Halloween Night Live, from my house

I'm in charge of handing out candy for Halloween this year, and since it's so cold, no one is coming. Like, I've opened the door probably 10 times. On one hand, this means that there's lot's of leftover candy for me to eat. On the other hand, this means that there will be a LOT of leftover candy for me to eat.

If you are reading this right now, like right NOW, you may have noticed that this post is being published while not finished. That's because.... *drumroll* ...... It's LIVE!

Just like the title says. >.>

Now, this would be a lot more interesting if people actually saw this while I'm posting and writing, so this is a telepathic message to all you people to READ THE BLOG. NOW.

...Yeah, okay, the main reason I'm doing this is because I'm bored. Like, really really bored. And I wanted to write a post, but I didn't have time to write something well planned out. Such as the second chapter of Elephants. (=.=) I supposed I'll have to post it after the weekend, then. *sigh...*

Let's see, something to talk about... Oh, right. Hallowe'en. I'm not trick or treating this year, as you can probably tell. I supposed this is around the age at which people stop going trick or treating. I went last year, as the paper bag princess, but I didn't go there year before that. And this year, I'm not doing anything. I suppose I look dressed up, though. I spent all of this afternoon painting my hydra/griffin sculpture for art, and I'm covered with paint. I even have some on my eyelashes. And I have an apron. Plus paintbrushes. So I look pretty artsy. : )

My hands haven't been clean for three days now. Today, it's just paint, but on Friday, there was glue and flour paste, and everything. Some newspaper, but that came off pretty much right away. Speaking of which, I went back to Tyrrell on Friday, and J. (sorry, I forgot his last name. ) commented on how my hands were never clean. Well, it's not my fault he always catches me on Day 1 afternoons.

Actually, going to Tyrrell was an impromptu thing. We met a bunch of DMCI's, and a few of them [Eddie, Hay, C.C. V.L, and SingYu] were planning to talk to our old principal for something, and I decided to tag along.We spent an hour? an hour and a half? there. Most of the time was spent on parkour.

Eddie wanted to learn some parkour skills, so we went around the back and SingYu started teaching us rolls. So, parkour, really isn't my kind of thing, [Read: I failed at rolling.] but it was probably worse for Eddie, because she's left handed, and all of us were right handed. After that, we moved to the front to try vaulting over the bicycle rack. See, the thing about parkour is that a lot of it is your mentality. You can't hesitate, or it'll throw off your timing. You have to believe you can do it, otherwise your body doesn't cooperate. And often times, you're physically capable of doing something, but you're to scared to try.

Case in point: vaulting. It's one of the easier maneuvers in parkour (or so I hear, since I really don't know anything about it), but it involves more guts than, say, a roll. To get started, that is. Kind of like handstands. There really is no easy way to do it. The bicycle rack is lower than waist level, so theoretically it's really easy to get over.

It took me a few minutes to convince myself I was able to get over it. Because, let's face it, watching someone else vault over something and attempting it yourself are very different. Once you start, though, it's really easy.

After a few vaults on the bicycle rack, I was confident enough to try the yellow gate blocker thingy. This came up to about waist height, which was "the perfect height for vaults." It also seemed a lot more daunting than the bicycle rack. I took a few practice jumps and a few minutes to work myself into it.

The thing about vaulting, is that while you're in mid air, and actually jumping over, you feel fine. It's easy. The hard part is right before you jump, because you can't hesitate. Another funny thing is that when you fall (yes, I did fall. Once.), you're not scared either. You kind of know that you're not going to land properly, and you have enough time to think "oops" and then put out your hands to brace yourself. And, yes, I did actually land another vault after falling.

So, all in all, Friday well spent. : )

Kay, it's already 10:00 now, so I'm going to stop writing. I feel like I haven't really covered everything I wanted to because I kept getting distracted, so I have these ideas floating around that I want to write about. That, and the second chapter of Elephants. It's almost all thought out, except I haven't typed anything yet. I have bits in my agenda. I wish I had more time. To do, like, everything. This was a really productive weekend (art, blog posts, geo) but I still didn't get around to everything that I wanted to. And I didn't even have that much homework.

Oh well. I should try more of these "live" things later on. Hopefully when people actually read them. Maybe even collaborative ones? Just some food for thought.

~Yaning

Getting Colder

OMG IT'S SNOWING!


Sorry, just felt the urge to point that out. :)


...Okay, fine. So I'll extend the length of this post. With what I think is the first snow of the (second half of the) year, winter is fast approaching. The days are noticeably shorter, and the mornings noticeably colder. I've always loved this white season like a true Canadian, but this year it's getting a bit annoying. Yet I can't seem to figure out why. Maybe its the lackadaisical previous winter that was far too warm to get anywhere. Or perhaps its the annoyance with my blankets that leave me shivering in the morning. Hopefully if I make a list, I'll be able to figure out what's bothering me.


Things I like about winter:


-Christmas: The festive mood rubs off onto me. And I like the pretty lights. And the sales.


-Boxing day: Again, I like the sales.


-Snow: I love the snow. Especially when its really powdery, because its fun to wade through. But packing snow is fun to play with/in. Fox, remember the turtle?


-Days when I walk outside in the morning and I'm blinded by the sun reflecting into my eyes.


-Clear, brilliant blue skies.


-Precipitation that doesn't get me wet.


-Iced puddles that are really slippery.

Things I dislike about winter:


-Mornings where its so dark and cold that I just simply can't get up.

-Freezing when I come out of the washroom after a shower.

-The fact that we never turn on the heating.

-The traffic.

-Changing shoes at school.

-Afternoons where it looks like I came back from school at midnight.

Hmmm... Nope. Still haven't figured it out.

-_#:(:\

Have I ever told you about my scars?

I scar really easily, FYI. Even very shallow scratches turn into faint scars, which is really weird, because I heal pretty quickly and I don't really bruise. And I don't usually pick at scabs.

Do you have any scars? Any that you're proud of? Any that you hate because they're really ugly?

I like my scars. More than I should, probably. My parents say that I should take more care of myself, because I'll regret them later on.

So, no, I do not have the luxury of hindsight (which is 20/20), but none of my scars hold any regret as of yet.

Plus, it's not like my injuries were casualties of carelessness or pure stupidity. [Well, maybe one of them. But it probably seemed like a good idea at the time in my two year old brain. I can pass it off as curiosity.] Often, they're connected to doing something I love, something fun and interesting, something that I'd already accepted the risks for.

:(: Left Hand; between the thumb and forefinger, two dots on either side of a crescent - looks like a happy face from one angle and an unhappy face from another; outside the kitchen of my house in China.

\ Right Knee; right below the kneecap, about an inch long; the Park at the Bridge.

- Right Palm; in the middle, right above my wrist; only a bit of it is visible - the rest is hard to see; the Bridge in winter.

# Right Knee; off to the side, where the joint bends; multiple thin scratches; Lake Superior Provincial Park, while hiking.

_ Left Cheek; along the jaw, almost completely faded; K.M.'s Marshmallow Party (fire + food + fun.)

It's weird, because scars are often very much a part of who a person is, but so many people try to hide them. I'll bet there are people who still haven't noticed the :(: scar on my hand, who've known me for a long time. Maybe they've noticed but didn't ask. Perhaps they're one of those people who think of scars are reminders of past mistakes.

As for me? I'll continue to wear them proudly, without 20/20 foresight.

~Yaning

Empty Space

Sung to the tune of Bubbly by Colbie Caillat.

I haven't posted in a while now.
It's got me feeling like a half-wit now.
Cause every time I stare at empty space,
Writer's block comes in and mocks my face.

It starts with a frown,
Stressed thinking and now
Wherever I search, my brain stays inert.
You make me fume
Please don't be so rude, you
Take your sweet time
Whenever you come.

The rain is falling on my window pane
So you decide to stay a little late.
Binding tightly to my right side brain,
You give me feelings that I can't explain.

It starts with a frown,
Stressed thinking and now
Wherever I search, my brain stays inert.
You make me fume
Please don't be so rude, you
Take your sweet time
Whenever you come.

What am I gonna write.
When you make me feel this tight.
I just… Hmmmmmm.

It starts with a frown,
Stressed thinking and now
Wherever I search, my brain stays inert.
You make me fume
Please don't be so rude, you
Take your sweet time
Whenever you come.

I've been stuck here for a while now.
Still got me feeling like a half-wit now.
Cause every time you hold me in your arms,
My mind goes blank, I cannot see as far.

It starts in my soul
And I lose all control
When I punch the screen,
The damage shows.
Cause you got me pissed,
Nine-hundred ninety-six
Wasted dollars…

Whenever, whenever, whenever you come,
Whenever, whenever, whenever you come,
Whenever you come, I'll always know,
Cause you make me furious, just for a while.

Yes, the first line was inspired by the first line of "Yet Another Actual Blog Post". I realized what a great fit it would be as soon as I typed it out.

Fringe

In the still of the night, she wakes up, and walks over to her vanity table. She sits down, picks up a hairbrush, and begins to run it through her hair.

~

Fringe; age 5. A straight cut right across, right at her eyebrows. Mother said it looked adorable with her bob cut, and annoying little Jack wouldn't pull her pigtails.

Braided bun; age 8. With a sparkly purple hairnet, she was ready to pirouette the night away as a sugar plum fairy on center stage.

Ponytail; age 12. Because she decided that maybe she wanted her pigtails pulled by a certain Jack Nichols.

Odango; age 14. The year she agreed with all her new friends that anime and Sailor Moon were cool, and that cosplay was awesome.

Dyed blue; age 17. Stacey had convinced her to do it, and she had gotten grounded for 5 months. It was only temporary, and lasted about as long as her rebellious phase.

French twist; age 18. Secured in place with a crystal ruby hairpin that matched her dress perfectly, she accepted the Prom Queen tiara with hair that was all the girls' envy. Not to mention a date that was all the girls' envy, a certain basketball captain [that may have gotten his coordination skills early on from all the practice he had pulling a certain girl's pigtails].

Fringe; age 25. She'd gotten it cut for the interview, the one that she didn't make the day she fainted in the taxi.

~

The hairbrush takes with it clumps of wispy dark hair. She begins to comb more frantically, ripping the brush through her hair, until there is nothing left to comb. She has no more tears left to cry, and her anguished sobs are silent to the world.

~

Fringe; age 29. That one night she was 25, she had almost lost hope. In the waiting room during one visit to the doctor, a girl not older than 5, who had a fringe that looked adorable with a bob cut, smiled and said, "Mommy says I'm sick, and to make me better, the doctors have to make my hair fall out. But it's okay, when I get better, I'm allowed to choose whatever haircut I want!"

She decided to fight. Today, she still undergoes treatment. While her hair grows back, she chooses many different wigs in different hairstyles to wear everyday. Her favourite one is the fringe.

OH MY GOSH. Finally. I've been trying to edit and post this since yesterday, and i figured out that the Zematta assistant gadget was causing the problem. I removed it. :)

Anyways, I'm not that great at writing any kind of fiction, and this post was a bit cheesy... but I tried. It kind of seems like one of those "Wings of Hope" entries. Oh well. Please tell me what you think, I'll take any criticism and try to make my writing better next time (if there's a next time).

Yet Another Actual Blog Post

Haven't posted in a while now. And I'm... definitely not procrastinating the next chapter of "Networking"... of course not. (Apparently, I have a two-time rule before I get bored. Why don't we take a vote, then. Should I continue that, or would you guys like to see something else?)

Random nerdy joke taken from science class: What do you do with dead people? You barium. Hahaha, right?


Ok, next one. It's a pun too. What is gin with water in it called? Hydrogen. Awesome, eh?

Yeah, I really need to think of something else to post about. I somehow lost all my ideas recently.

This is what you turn on when its dark. Electrolyte.

*Yawns* I'm actually quite tired right now. Even though I got the usual amount of sleep..

I saw Paranormal Activity today at school, because we hosted a movie night to support Kids Help Phone. I think I can honestly say that that was the worst movie I've ever seen. Like The Ring, it was a mystery horror, except it ended really suddenly and there was no connection with the ending and the clues. It was so obviously done just to make you pay to watch the sequel. And it wasn't even scary. The beginning looked rather comical because they had the same-ish filming style as The Office and Modern Family. And there were only two shock moments. And both were at the end. I was sitting beside D.H. in the front row and we and a few others were laughing most of the time. But then again, most of the audience was too. And I got free popcorn and volunteer hours, so I'm not complaining about my time spent. Speaking of popcorn, the kernels we popped tasted really good without seasoning or butter. Actually, they tasted better than the seasoned popcorn because the sweet and salty seasoning tasted like cloves (think grade six for Foxers) and the Cajun one just tasted like pepper. Both were kind of nauseating.

And once again, I have a headache, so I think I will stop writing.

Another Actual Blog Post

Guess what?

No, really, guess.

I had another Tuesday attack. [Yes, I realize that today is not Tuesday, or even Wednesday. However, that isn't the point and wow, this was a stupid interruption.] It wasn't a very devastating one, and nothing terribly dreadful happened, just a few events that were kind of unlucky, and fell on a Tuesday. But, see, they did fall on a Tuesday, and that's what counts.

Exhibition No.1

I forgot my French Horn in the trunk of the car the day before, so I had to take it with me on the bus (it was a late start Tuesday, FYI). This wasn't much of a difficulty, even though the case was a bit heavier than I was used to. Plus, I liked taking the bus. No problem, right?

Ha, ha.

No.

It turned out the case was a LOT heavier than I was used to.

This resulted in many things:

(a) people got annoyed at me on the bus because I took forever to move around

(b) people got annoyed at me on the bus because I took up so much space, and it was rush hour

(c) I lost my balance while the bus turned, and smashed into the side of a seat

(d) people got annoyed at me on the bus because of aforementioned smashing

(e) said instrument case emitted a loud bang that would've made Mr. R (the music teacher) cry had he heard it. [Don't worry, both the case and the instrument are fine - I suppose the case is just loud like that. On the other hand, my arm isn't. No pun intended?]

Exhibition No. 2

Again, the result of an ungainly instrument. I was walking down the stairs toward the music room, so that I could return it. I think I was walking a bit too fast or a bit too eagerly, because I crashed into the rail, (which was way too flimsy and bent a couple of inches,) and held onto the rail for dear life while the added momentum of the case made me slide a couple of stairs down. Good thing no one was there to see that. They might have gotten annoyed.

I have fallen down the stairs on a few occasions before (hey, maybe they were on Tuesdays!) and it is not fun. In fact, it is quite scary. If you do actually happen to fall down, you'll probably end up twisting your ankle, at least. (I'm exaggerating, of course. I only kind of twisted it.)

The good news is that I didn't fall, because as flimsy as the handrail was, it probably saved me from grievous ankle injuries.

Exhibition No. 3

I miss two buses in a row.

Again.

~Yaning

Elephants: Chapter 1 - an introduction

He ran his hand along the pitted concrete, the engraved edge of an L pressing into the tips of his fingers.

It had rained earlier, and the walls were slightly damp. He could feel moisture on his fingers. He took in a deep breath of post-rain air, and for a moment, he forgot why he was standing outside the house.

***

The next morning, there was a paper-wrapped package on his coffee table. He searched for a note, but found none. Without shaking the box - he'd long since knew better - he weighed the box in one hand. Then he went to his computer and emailed 4 words.

He spend the rest of the day admiring the contents of the package, and

Object Number 4,206 now sat on the topmost shelf beside the east window in what used to be his bedroom.

Butterflies

You are Stephanie Wainwright. You are 16 years old and you go to Glendale Academy. Your mom and dad are divorced, but you still visit him every weekend. You have a younger sister, Margaret, who always looks up to you. Your life is pretty good.

Your POI is Ashton LeBlanc. You don’t know this yet, but you will soon. He will be in your grade 11 chemistry class. He’ll sit exactly three seats to the right and two seats in front of you. And you two will be paired up by Mr. Fernwell, the chem teacher, to work on the end-of-semester evaluation assignment, on December 19 of your grade 11 year.

You’re probably wondering how I know this. Truth is, I live inside of you. I am the one who looks into your future and helps you find The One. Oh, my name is Mirah. I was assigned to you the day you were born. I have been waiting patiently inside you for all these years, waiting for the day when you would finally need me. Because I’m the one who will help you meet Him.

I picked Him out for you myself – it is one of my duties. The minute I saw him, I knew he’d be perfect for you. He is a little shy, but actually very outgoing when with his friends. He hates strawberries but loves blueberries, just like you. He loves the Beatles and Elton John. But you will find all this out as you get to know him, of course.

On the night of December 18, I will call to Headquarters, and my friends will be sent to come join me. Then, when the new day arrives, you will feel different – lighter, if I may. When you get to school, and Mr. Fernwell pairs you up with Him, we will all be flapping our wings as hard as we can, to make you realize. After that, you’ll feel us every time you see him. And then we can only hope it’ll be a happily ever after.

Yes, Stephanie. The fluttering you'll feel in your stomach the day you see him? That will be us.

A Poem Off The Top of my Head

I realized I wasn't keeping my promise to post more, so I'm going to write a random poem and see what happens.

---

How do you even begin to describe

The way it runs through your mind?

Like a silk avalanche,

A roller-coaster,

A seashell-studded-sky.

You're lucky if you catch it

Like a shooting star, it's rare.

Enjoy it while it lasts, because

You can never really tell

If you'll see it again.

It wraps its wings around you

Feathers glistening softly

Against your clammy hands.

Maybe it will stay longer this time...

Or maybe not.

But it's not one for quick exits

It goes out with a bang:

A firecracker of pain shot

Right into your soul.

You'll never really let go.

It leaves you blind and broken

But at least it's got a heart.

I suppose it lets you get back,

Sew yourself up,

Before it comes back a-knocking.

It'll wait until you're all right

Until it returns again.

Your worst nightmare in disguise...

A tiny white dove of peace

Can be the worst offering ever made.

---

Comment and tell me what the heck you think I'm talking about! (Because I don't even know.)

An Actual Blog Post

I don't really feel like continuing my story right now, so I've decided to just write about whatever comes to my mind.

First of all, IT'S SO DAMN COLD! The mercury in my house lurks at 12.5 degrees (Celsius, obviously). I don't know how it managed to drop so low. I'm shivering heavily, and I can't really feel the keyboard. And I have a headache too (stupid aspartame gum), cause I was intelligent enough to eat a piece just to see how long it would take until my head would start to hurt. At least I now have a reference of 40:17 minutes.

Right now, I'm finishing the last mooncake we bought. Such an Asian thing to buy them after the moon festival, and they were the cheapest brand too. We hoarded four boxes, and someone sent us one as well. I probably souldn't be eating too much right now, because dinner is coming soon.

We bought a pineapple a week ago, but nobody wanted to cut it, so now its golden brown. Excellent for maybe a cake, but I like my pineapples without the brown part. Oh God, that reminds me of the mangoes... (*facepalm*)

I should definitely be working on my geography project right now, but I really don't want to. It's the most monotonous assignment I've had to do this year. Unfortunately, I won't be able to get much done tomorrow, because my family is going to Waterloo for my sister's graduation ceremony. At least there's a field trip on Monday.

Oh, that reminds me. Science fair. I haven't thought of that for the whole week. And I haven't really started. Whatever. It's not like it's due soon...

I met a bunch of old friends from DMCI on the bus today. A.W. flirting via text as usual. He has like, six ex's now. It was fun talking to them. But at the same time, distant. It's weird to hear an unfamiliar teacher's name tumble out of your best friend's mouth. One that you've been enduring for five years, calling you things like Mr. Bubbles, and strangling your arms with his own.

Oh, yeah. Happy belated birthday, Teo! Here's a present for you!

You can unwrap it mentally and claim your imaginary gift! (I'm such a thoughtful friend, right?)

I can't go down the stairs two at a time anymore. Or, at least I can't go down my own staircase two at a time anymore. Whenever I try, this vague hopeless feeling overcomes me and then my vision blurs and I have to stop. It's like walking into a Dementor's range. Weird, huh?

The more I stare at said pineapple, the sharper its crown looks. And the more brown it seems.

Afterthought/Conclusion: I once read somewhere that dialogue writing is not so much a skill, but a gift. I now know why. "I feel angry!" ... "Why did you just yell at me really loudly and in front of the whole class?"

Networking Part 2

The same bronze door handle was gleaming in front of her. She didn't want to go in, but she couldn't leave either. Desperately, she filtered the thoughts in her head. Name? Come on! I've never forgotten a name before!

Suddenly, the lights went out. The voices in the chamber were silenced. She couldn't see anything. Urgent whispers filled the room, and she wondered what was happening. The door burst open and struck her side. She was almost knocked off of her feet as something went hurling by. She heard the stairwell exit open, and slowly close again. Was this part of the plan? She felt for the door handle and went back in. Her eyes starting to adjust, she spoke towards a shadow in front of her. "What happened?"

"No idea." The man's voice was fruity and he spoke with a slight accent, but she couldn't tell what it was. "I was going to the washroom, and the lights turned off. Then someone shoved me, and went through."

"Well, this is great. How are we supposed to do anything in the dark?" How am I supposed to find him in the dark? At least she now had an excuse. The lights flickered back on. She squinted from the intensity and looked around. Everyone was returning to their conversations, albeit a bit more flustered. She looked into the face of the man she had been talking to, and a connection formed. The description matched perfectly.

"Oh, I didn't get to introduce myself," she smiled sweetly. "I'm Anna Rightly and I work for The Timber Maniacs." She shook his hand, allowing hers to stay in his for just a bit too long.

"The Timber Maniacs? I've never heard of them."

"Oh, we're a new magazine. We publish for the small town of Timber. Mostly things about, like, travel and vacation, you know?" It was crucial that she flatter him. She handed him one of the business cards, presenting it formally with both hands. "And you?"

"Oh, my name's Darren, and I'm the creative director for Harlow Publishing."

"Really?! That's so hot. It's such a good company, don't you agree?" It was a complete lie; she'd never even heard of the publisher. Her eyes flashed him a big hug as she continued to woo the stranger.

"Yes, it's a very large firm. Well known in five countries."

Just then, her cellphone rang. She smiled artificially. "Excuse me for a moment." She thought she heard him utter something about the washroom, and she was so distracted with Rad's call that she barely noticed him leave. "Yeah?"

"You need to get out! Now!"

"What? Why?"

"Change of plans. The Eagles beat us to it. The lights went out, right?"

"Uh huh. What happened?"

"Turns out they knew we would be waiting for him today. They shut off the power supply and their agents grabbed the man and left. They know who you are. You must stop being Anna immediately. Withdraw and assemble at base by 22:00. Hurry!"

This made the woman blush furiously. She hadn't gotten the right man. "Wait, so they have him now?"

"Obviously. Just get the hell outta there!"

"Right." She walked out quickly, arriving at the elevator in seconds. Jamming furiously on the down button, she stared impatiently at the display. The lift was still on the fifth floor. Someone came walking briskly down the hallway. Her heart skipped a beat; there was nobody to witness what he might do to her. She continued staring at the closed doors, her hand on the hilt of her utility knife which was tucked into her pocket.

"Hey, you leaving so soon?" She turned around and was quite relieved to see the man she had thought was her target. But wait... maybe he was a body double, set up to eliminate her.

"Oh, yes. I've got to go meet some friends who are waiting downstairs." This excuse would hopefully drive him away.

"Alright then. Nice to meet you." He continued on his way back to the Memorial Chamber. The elevator grilles slid open, and she hurried in. Before they shut again, she caught sight of a tall man sprinting down the hall towards her. Too late... she thought, satisfied that something had finally gone right. She reached the ground floor and walked out of the hotel. She looked around for any taxis nearby, but none were in view. Her phone rang yet again.

"I'm out already!"

"No, it's not that. This Derek guy, he actually has a twin brother. They work together. The Eagles took the wrong person! But now, I need you to go back in and continue the honeytrap. You think you can do that?"

So that's his name... "Yes, of course."

"Alright. Good girl. You're room number is 340, right? Just keep him busy until team C moves in. And be careful. There are Eagle spies everywhere."

She hung up and turned around. Drawing a deep breath, she braced herself to continue the mission she almost failed.

Networking

This piece of writing is slightly different from most of my prose because I thought of it as I wrote it. As in, I came up with the title as soon as I clicked "New Post", and the idea formed promptly. So I'm making up everything more quickly than I did with The Meeting series. Hopefully, I can end it properly. (As I write this, the story is only in the third paragraph.)

Part 1: Somersaults

I reckon you'll be able to figure this out by yourselves... especially you, Grace! ;)
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He watched her. He had been watching for a while now. For some stupid reason, he was starting to notice all sorts of tiny things about her. Like the way her hips swayed slightly while she walked. The way she nervously chewed on her lip during a test (even though she knew all the answers already of course). The way her curly hair danced in the wind as she breezed past him. It angered him that he noticed all these things – they were supposed to hate each other. Heck, the whole school knew they were arch enemies! Besides the name-calling and cold retorts they threw at each other, there was nothing, nothing they even had in common! And he intended to keep it that way. So why did his stomach flip somersaults every time she breezed by?

***

The frozen December air clawed at every part of him as he stepped out into the thick snow. It was a horror of a day – a combination of snow and hail poured down constantly. A part of him wondered exactly why he was doing this; did he really give a damn about her? But his feet seemed to move of their own accord. And so he stepped forward into the blinding winter day.

He stepped into the relieving heat of the small boutique, shaking the wet snow off his jacket. The sweet smell of candy made him want to stay the day, but he knew time was running out. She was leaving tonight.

“A dozen of the best chocolate truffles you have, wrapped to go please.”
“One moment…”

Back in his dorm, he looked at the heart-shaped box sitting on his bed, with the shiny wrapping paper and bow on top. And at the letter he now held in his hand. Do I really want to do this?

Before he could stop himself, He tied the letter to the box, and headed up to the owlery.

H,
Maybe enemies are not what they seem after all.
Merry Christmas,
D

SC: Still

It's been a long time, but finally! This idea actually came... as I was about to go to sleep yesterday. It's not one of my greatest, but still. See if you understand what it means.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I am probably just a smudge in your memory by now – your life has gone on without me. But I know I still hold a special place in your heart, just like you do mine.

Though we spent such a short time together – insufficient, I would say – I could feel your love for me growing stronger each day. You carried me under your heart; our hearts beat as one. In the beginning, when I was weak, you nurtured me until I slowly grew strong.

Just not strong enough, it seemed.

On that fateful night, you fell asleep with me, your hand covering the place where I laid protectively. But I sensed something was wrong. I felt myself fading away; everything became white. I tried holding on, with the little strength you had given me the past months, but nothing would’ve been strong enough. I knew you felt the pain in your heart alongside me, but sleep kept you drugged enough to keep from stirring. I looked at you one last time, before rising up into the air, disappearing into nothingness.

From then on, I watched over you. We’d gone too far; I saw myself come out of you. I watched as you drenched yourself in grief and depression – it broke my heart what I’d done to you. Still, there was nothing I could do except watch.

I have followed your life ever since: you have a little girl, Clara, with a baby boy coming on the way. I’ve seen the way you make pancakes for her at breakfast; the way your arm snakes around her protectively before crossing the street. These wordless actions speak the world – motherly love.

I also see the times when you think no one is watching, and how your mouth turns down slightly at the corners. How your eyes narrow, unconsciously, a glimpse into the sorrow still locked away in your heart.

I could’ve been the first one. I could’ve been the one looking after Clara. I could’ve been the one changing diapers for the new baby. I could’ve… anything. But I didn’t. Now I’m just a distant memory. Because when I came… I was still.

Interviewed

I'm waiting nervously outside the door to the Space Resource Centre. Typed on a sheet attached to the window is the interview schedule.
Monday October 4
11:45 [Halalcohol]
...
...
...

Yes, I'm first. To be interviewed for a position I really want. Blankly, I pace around outside the door. A group of girls walk past me and enter the room. I recognize one of them as Jane, the girl who came to our class to ask us for applicants. We had to fill out a questionnaire and hand it in last Thursday. The girls came out promptly, confused as to why no supervisor was present.

Oh, good. It's just these three that will be interviewing me.

"Where are the teachers?" one asks.

"I don't know. If they don't show up, we'll have to do the interviews outside."

"Hey guys, nobody's in the room," says one of them, to someone behind me. "Can we see if we can do the interviews in the library?

I turn around, and to my horror, I see a group of tall, male, looming seniors making their way over.

WTF WTF WTF WTF SHIT. Are they ALL gonna be there? No, right? That's a waste of time… right?

I recognize two of them as volunteers who came on the Pinecrest trip, George and Bob. The other two are foreign to me. I'm too busy goggling at them to hear what they're saying, but eventually we make our way to the library. At first, I think I'm supposed to wait outside, but George beckons me in. We enter a small classroom inside the library called the East York Room. Everyone begins to move the tables around.

SHIT! There are seven of them! They're all going to be staring… and analyzing… and… and…

There's a broken chair in the room, and Bob gets an idea.

"Put the chair over there. He points across from the row of tables where I'm obviously supposed to sit. I realize immediately that this is one of those cliché interviews where the interviewers act all bitchy to try and scare their interviewees into making a fool of themselves or bursting into tears, or whatever.

"What's he doing in here?" Bob's voice cuts over the noise.

All eyes on me in the centre of the ring…

"Tell him to wait outside."

I gesture vaguely at George, who's sitting away from everyone else at a computer. "He told… He…"

Jane walks me out of the room. Great, I've made a wonderful first impression. I stare into the room through the wide windows, watching as everyone takes a seat.
Thirty seconds later, she comes back and opens the door. I attempt to walk confidently, but I probably look more like I have a back brace.

"Can I put my stuff on this table?" I look at Bob as I speak, because I have a very pressing feeling that he's the one who'll do the most talking. He shrugs and gives me an expression of indifference. Just as I expected. I do so anyways, and take my seat on the chair missing a backrest. Sitting straight up, I place my hands on my legs, moving very deliberately and mechanically. The whole time, my eyes are drawn to Bob.

"I used to think that Bob was a jerk, but he's actually really nice! He's really quiet, but if you talk to him, he actually cares." I remember those words from a senior at Pinecrest. I also remember some things I'd rather not.

"Bob went out with Kim… Yeah, they had sex at a party… He got blown by her…There was this other couple in the room, and they were breaking up, and the girl didn't notice them getting it on behind her cause she was crying so hard, and the guy told her to turn around, and she was like, 'OH MY GOD!'"

Pushing those thoughts out of my head, I focus back on Bob, who's reading my questionnaire. "I haven't always been interested in writing…" he says in a mocking tone.

FACEPALM

"Right. So, why do you want to be a writer for the TOPS Webteam?"

I regurgitate what I wrote on the sheet. "Love writing… blog… blah blah blah."

I get cut off as other questions come up.

"How many people actually read the blog?" He sounds very skeptical.

"We do." It was a stupid but defiant counter. I quickly add more details. "And other classmates."

"Do you have any experience with Web pages other than with the blog?"

This time, I have nothing to say. "No. Not really."

"Can you use Office?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like, can you use Word properly?" Again, mocking me.

There are students who can't use Word?

"Yes."

"Ok, so we will probably need you to come on TOPS night to help set up things for the presentation. Can you make it?" This time, Jane asks the question. And I'm so nervous, I don't even understand what she says, or when TOPS night is.

"Yes. I – I can make it." An automatic response. Well, I couldn't say "no", could I?

"Do you know how to set up projectors and other equipment?"

Uhhhhhhhhhhhhh… Maybe if you teach me, then I will? :D No…? :(

"…Well, not projectors specifically, but at my old school I was part of the –" At this point, I forget exactly what the team I was part of was called. I blame the nerves. "Stage… set-up…" (An hour later, I remember it was called the stage crew.)

"Ok. That's fine." Or something like that. I'm still too nervous to comprehend what they're saying. The girl speaks again.

"At TOPS night, since you're a student, people might ask you what TOPS is. What will you tell them?"

I know that I have absolutely no time to think, because a moment's hesitation would be enough to screw me over. To buy time, I start by stating the obvious.

"Well, I would tell them that TOPS is a great program that specializes in math and science, but, you know, it's not just for those completely devoted to math and science." At this point, my mouth catches up to my brain, and I say whatever I'm thinking. Just anything to avoid the awkward pause. "From what I've seen, people have gone on to become lawyers, for example, and because the learning pace is accelerated, it's challenging and great for study skills." Crap, what kind of ending is that? My answer was soooo lame…

Bob looks at the girl and nods expectantly, who replies with a smile. "Alright, so if you could be any fruit, which would you be?"

………………………………………………??????????????????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"Come on, hurry up!" Shut up, Bob. Uh………

"Just pick one!" I buy myself more time by repeating her. Banana?
Grapes? I almost ask the most retarded question of whether I can choose to be a bunch of fruits (of grapes, get it? A bunch? :D) before continuing my thoughts. Peach? Apple? Orange? Apple. Strawberry? Blueberry.

"Stop wasting time! Just pick!" Strawberry? Strawberry. Strawberry! Apple! Apple! Apple!

"Ok… If I were a fruit, I'd be a…" Strawberry, strawberry, strawberry, strawberry, STRAWBERRY!

"Mango." The word slips my mouth.

"Mango! Ok, why?"

It's pure BS time. I'm usually good at this stuff. But I guess I'm way too nervous to function.

"Because… mangos are exotic." Holy shit, did I just say what I think I did?

"Oh… Exotic, eh?" Bob smiles evilly. Everyone else laughs.

"Yes… exotic." I've no choice but to continue. "And no, I'm not thinking like that." This gets a laugh out of everyone. Trying not to think about Bob getting a blowjob from the very "exotic" Kim (if you knew her, you'd think she was "exotic" too, the way she dresses), I press on.

"Mangos are also very versatile."

"Oh… Versatile eh?" Everyone laughs again. Shut UP, Bob. Well, at least they're happy…ish.

"No, I'm still not thinking like that." More laughter. Are they laughing at me? I can't tell. Does that make me socially retarded? "And yes, versatile. Mangos can be eaten in a lot of ways. They can be added to sauces, eaten raw, put in salads, used to flavor meat…" Bob makes another shallow connection that I can't remember.

"Alright, thank you for applying," says Jane.

"I like mangos too…" That was the last comment Bob made as I walked out of the room, into the empty library. And that's pretty much the only ray of hope I have.

"I like mangos too…"

Dinosaur Eggs

Out of saran wrap windows,

I saw dinosaur eggs.

And where I walked,

Split a fine line between worlds

That thin boundary.

Out of saran wrap windows,

I watched the dawn.

Space between light and dark

Mist curling, far.

[This is a Really Pointless Poem that has a nice ring to it. I’d like to see what meanings you derive out of this, because I’m pretty sure it’ll be different for everyone. Mostly because it was really randomly written. And therefore has no intended effect. ]

I found these writing prompts online. And no, the prompt was not "dinosaur eggs." It just happened to suit being the title.

~Yaning

: )

Waiting for Inspiration to Strike

Argh... brain freeze. Not good.

Yeah, that's pretty much what's been happening to me lately. That and a lot of Computer Studies homework (which probably also explains why). But yes, as you can see, I am waiting for another *cough* brainstorm... who said brainstorms fall faster than hail?

So that's pretty much why I haven't been posting lately, or as often as I would like. But... a post - no matter how bad - is still a post right? Right.

Anyways, wish me luck... I'll try to think of something soon? Hopefully.

Banner Comparison (as requested by Grace)

New Banner

Since you guys aren't going to respond if I don't do this, the experimental banner will be put up. Please give any inputs regarding the style, colour palette, and etc. I'm planning on putting some kind of picture in the empty space to the right, but I don't know what yet. And none of you really gave any suggestions on style, I just went on and came up with that. FEEDBACKS NEEDED.

p.s. Of course this is messy I spent like 5 minutes on it. It's only the base of the idea.

Nuit Blanche

Yesterday, I went to Nuit Blanche with 6 other people. Let me say this first, before I start. Out of the 7 of us, only 2 people were able to navigate through downtown: K.Lee and me. Oh joy. So then we were stuck with baby sitting the rest of the handicapped for 4 hours. Anyway, some of the exhibits were amazing, while others piqued slight interest. First of all, we went to visit the exhibit at the ROM.

Anecdote time.

K.Ma decided to purchase a hotdog while we were waiting in line, outside of the ROM. The huge line was actually moving very quickly, and it wasn't even 5 minutes until we were inside the museum. Sadly, no one was allowed to bring food inside (for obvious reasons...) and so, she had to wait in the designated area where people with food and drinks are waiting. Here's the problem. We were already halfway in the museum, she doesn't have a cellphone, and no one was willing to wait with her. Fortunately, she had enough common sense to wait for us instead of going in and trying to search for us in the madness. (This is where you can laugh).

Resuming.

Anyway, after that we went along some road, which name I forgot, and stopped to see a Japanese exhibit. They, being Japanese, had a lot very interesting pieces. For example, videos of lamps being turned on, guys setting the pavement on fire, doodling on people's faces on the TV screen, and straight out doodles from a grade 1 notebook. Awesome.

So after that, we took the subway and got off at Dundas station, where most of the other exhibits are located. By then, it was extremely windy and chilly, and I was regretting wearing so little layers. After looking around, we went into a food court, where Lulu insisted on buying McDonald's. And then, J.Yu also decided to purchase some fries. Detour time. We mooched on J.Yu's fries while goofing off with our cameras. Fun fun fun >8D

After the little side trip at McD's, we spent the rest of the time roaming around Yonge street. We visited a night market, which was one of the exhibits, and I bought a few things. They were REALLY cheap. And the samosa I bought was killer. But then I choked on it.

Overall, it was pretty fun, especially the night market (which was my absolute favourite). But we kept on losing K.Ma because she was so small, and she didn't have a cellphone. Luckily she was wearing red.

"She's not allowed no come with us next time, unless she has a cellphone." - Lulu

I'm definitely going again next year :)

Halloween Haunt

Let me start off on a tangent, so it won't interrupt the post:

Art is possibly

THE most time consuming subject.

Like. EVER.

I've probably spent more than 10 hours on my assignment it this weekend. I would have spent more if I wasn't so short on time. With that out of the way, let me actually begin this post.

I'm sorry I couldn't go to Nuit Blanche - I already had a visit to the Halloween Haunt at Canada's Wonderland scheduled.

The most awesome thing about the Halloween Haunt were the rides - or, to be more specific, the lack of wait times for the rides. Things you'd normally have to wait +1 hour for had next to no lines. I've only been to Wonderland once before, and that was before the Behemoth was built, so lucky me got to ride twice. And I would have gone more, but we wanted to visit other places, too.

Most of the Halloween attractions were walkthroughs that had the same idea - scare people by creating a dark and sinister atmosphere and startle them from behind corners. With loud noises. So, after the first few (or, just the first one) you start to get used to being screamed at. What I liked was the attention to detail. They even had the scents right. Like, in this pirate themed one, it had a briny kind of smell, and in the barn yard one, it smelled like hay. And there we these "3D" ones that required glasses, except we went in without them, and it looked just as... trippy. They had ultraviolet lights and neon paint on top of black paint, which made everything look like they were coming right off the walls. By the end, my eyes were properly screwed up and all the lines and shapes just popped right off the walls. Oh, and the strobe lights didn't help. At. All.

In addition to the mazes was a live show. It was alright. Could have been more rehearsed. The acrobatics (or gymnastics?) was pretty impressive, and the singing was pretty good. I guess. The humor was... Well, let's just say that it was for people like Luxiang and Tom and Alex W. Oh, with the occasional Justin Bieber and American stereotypes thrown in. Ha, and a few "eye" puns. 'Cause there was this girl with an eyepatch. [Hehehe... Really takes the "Eye see what you did there" to a new level.]

Oh, and @ Grace, there were a lot of shinies. I don't know why they all go to places like Wonderland and not to school, but they were there.

~ Yaning

My Sincerest Apologies

I regret to inform you that I haven't been doing very well.

a) I completely forgot about Halalcohol's assignment. Well, actually, I had no idea what to write about, and therefore am considered a literary failure.

b) I haven't posted on this blog since mid-summer, because of my sister coming from Romania and because of school and because I didn't feel like it.

c) I'm not exactly doing the best job of keeping in touch with everyone, as sadly, the school year eats up all my time and I am therefore left anti-social and drowning in a puddle of my own loneliness.

(Don't make a short joke about that last one, Tom.)

MY POINT IS, if you have given up on me posting on this blog, if you thought I had disappeared off the face of the earth, if you were ready to scoff at my nerve because I even dared to write a response again, too bad for you. Because I'm still posting. I am. Even if it's about how little I'm posting or how I'm not posting at all.

C WUT I DID THAR?

If I think about something more interesting to write about, I'll let you know. I haven't given up on that last challenge, Halalcohol, but I'll get to it. In time. Don't you fret.

Cheers to that!