Tuesday, December 06, 2005

t'key ghee fa

Yeah. I wish.

I believe I need to write something like 3300 words for the next 25 days in order to hit my desired goal. Hmm. Do I have 82,500 words to say? Somehow, I doubt it. But we'll try anyway.

"We". Like I have a rat in my pocket or something.

I still need to go back to working on my story. It's been almost a week since I last looked at it. If I go much longer, I'm afraid I'll lose my interest in it completely, (it's happened before) and who knows when (or if) I would get it back again.

Last night I had some crazy ass dreams.

I was on the Lost island, and was walking along with Sayid, Locke, and someone else, who I can't remember. There was plenty of conversation, but, of course, now I can't remember any of it. I do remember that it was highly engrossing. We were interrupted by a rumbling in the trees. Locke bent down and picked up some rocks. A stegosaurus  (!!!!) emerged from the forest, running toward us. Locke hurled his rocks at the dinosaur, and it did about as much damage as throwing a stone at a school bus would do. The prehistoric animal continued trampling toward us, and we jumped out of the way in the nick of time as it barreled past us.

The dream jumped - or I don't remember what happened in between then - to where the four of us were now looking for food. Sayid, Locke, and other person were picking up the stegosaurus droppings and eating those. (Yuck!) They said that it wasn't very tasty, but that it contained plenty of nutrients, and there was nothing else around to eat, so...

I refused to eat dinosaur poop, believing that there must be something else to eat around the area. Locke picked up a couple of eggs (chicken eggs? Dinosaur eggs? I don't know) and asked me if I wanted to eat those instead. I said that would be great, and thank you. He pulled a pan out of nowhere, and the next thing I knew, I was eating some very tasty eggs.

When the dream ended, it was pretty much a promo for next week's episode of Lost. There was an announcer and everything. "Next week is the episode you Can. Not. Miss."
It appeared to be a Michael-centric episode, and it seemed to show that Michael had lost a baby on the island right before - or right after? - the crash. His ex-wife (who, in the show has died) was on the island, and either gave birth while going over a waterfall, or shortly before. Michael was shown holding onto a screaming infant that was going to go over the falls.

It was intense, but I remember detachedly thinking, "Oh, come on!! He loses his son AND a baby?!?"

Suddenly, I was no longer a part of the show, but was in my parents house. We were all watching the preview for next week, and were talking about the "baby episode", when suddenly my dad went batshit insane. He started screaming at my step mom, throwing objects, and acting completely unreasonable and very very scary. I was trying to calm him down (I have no idea what set him off) but he then directed his anger at me.

Right before the dream ended, he calmed down and apologized, but man, that was freaky.

Well, now I have to go watch the Maury Povich show. Which I will never be able to watch the same way again, due to South Park. "Oh yeah? I'll crap in Maury's pants! Whatever! I'll do what I want!" Heh.


It is freaking COLD out side. And we're still two weeks away from the official start of winter.
Note to self: when we revert back to nomadic, hunter-gatherer type of lifestyles - make sure that we travel to places that are warm. But not too warm. Because I can't stand the heat, either.

I think it's time for a bunch of questions. Because that builds the word count, and because I can not think of anything else to talk about right now.

I have been wanting to do this bunch of questions for a while. All of the following questions are movie titles. Hooray!

<b> Who's Harry Crumb? </b>

<b> What's the Worst That Could Happen? </b>

<b> Are We There Yet? </b>

<b> What the #$*! Do We (K)now!? </b>

<b> Who Framed Roger Rabbit </b>

<b> What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? </b>

<b> O Brother, Where Art Thou? </b>

<b> Shall We Dance? </b>

<b> Guess Who's Coming To Dinner </b>

<b> Car 54, Where Are You? </b>

<b> Dude, Where's My Car? </b>

<b> Where Were You When The Lights Went Out? </b>

Undoubtedly, there are a gabillion other movies I could use, but I'm not in the mood to go researching them now. In fact, I'm pretty hungry right now, so maybe I'll go have lunch, even though it's only 11:16.


Back in February of 1989, when I was 13 years old, we lived in Utah. A friend of mine, whom I will call Brian Haney, because that was his name, was older than I was. He had gone snowmobiling many times, and asked me to come along with him. My parents agreed to let me, and so off we went.

Once we got there, (or maybe on the way, I don't know) Brian informed me that there was an age restriction. You had to be 14 years old in order to get one of the snowmobiles from the ski resort we were going to. That wasn't a problem for Brian, since he already met the arbitrary age requirement. I, however, still had four months to go. It was agreed upon that I would just lie, since they never asked for proof of one's age - besides, how exactly could I provide proof? I didn't have a driver's license. So. When I filled out the form, I wrote that my birthday was either that day, or a few days before. (My brain initially thought that this was on Feb. 14th, 1989, but I just looked at that was on a Tuesday, which probably means it wasn't then. Feb. 14th, 1988 was a Sunday... so maybe I got the year wrong. And maybe it wasn't even February 14th at all, but for some reason, that date is sticking in my mind. So I think I put that my birthdate was the 14th of February, rather than the 14th of June, but that the actual renting of the snowmobile might have been some date later in February. [shrug] Sorry the story is so crap, but that's what you get when you have such a poor memory like I do.)

Anyway. I lied on the form, it was accepted, and we got on our snowmobiles and began to follow our tour guide. He instructed us on how to operate the snowmobile - the accelerator on the right handlebar, the brake on the left.
Everything was going great. Our group of about ten snowmobilers were all driving along, following a premade path for the machines that wound through the forest. I saw a squirrel zip across and was feeling pretty ecstatic about the whole snowmobiling thing.


I smacked the snowmobile into a wooden pole, crushing the front and pretty much making the machine undriveable.
My head whipped forward  and my helmet hit the handlebars. The seatbelt pulled on me and my shoulders were sore for about a day afterward. I remember I actually thought - and may have even said out loud - "I am dead."

I wasn't, obviously (unless this whole past sixteen years have been the delirium dream of a dying preteen on a snowmobile in Utah), but it's funny that I had that thought, because I WISHED i had died.

I don't remember much else about this story. I do recall that Brian laughed at me, and that our friendship pretty much dissolved shortly after that. (He really was sort of a prick. Who laughs at their friend when they get into an accident?) The damage ended up being paid for by my dad, and it was about $500 to get it repaired.
I don't know that anything ever came of my age deception, or if the snowmobile people even ever found out. Of course, I had more pressing concerns at the time, what with having wrecked a very expensive piece of machinery and all, but. Yeah.

No real point to that story, and I don't know why I was thinking of it the other day, but I don't believe I've told it in my blog before, so ...now I have.


Our computer at home only has 48% free space left in its memory. Which totally explains why it is running so slow. I bet there are plenty of programs that we could delete in order to free up more room. Or, we could be American about it and just buy a whole new computer...


I hate money.


Well, apparently I'm about half way to the three thousand goal so far. Boring!

A female employee who works in Master Control - she got hired in that department after I had already left, so I haven't had much interaction with her - called in on Sunday. It was like 30 minutes before her shift was supposed to start, and she called her relief, telling him that she was going to kill herself.
She was reportedly very drunk while on the phone, and sounded very stressed. (Obviously.)

The guy she called talked to her for about an hour, trying to calm her down. He called his supervisor, who called HIS supervisor, because nobody had her address anywhere. Her address is in the HR computer, of course, but HR is locked, and nobody could get hold of the employee who has the key.

Eventually, her resume was found in the Master Control Supervisors office, and her address and phone number were on there. Hoping that it was still accurate, the number was called, and there was no answer. They called the apartment offices of where she lives and made them aware of the situation. The apartment manager called the paramedics, who broke into her apartment and discovered her passed out and very very intoxicated. She was revived, and the paramedics passed on the info to the apartment folks who called the Master Control Supervisors back to let them know she was okay.

Her days off are Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. Calls to her home have not been answered.

From what I have heard, and from the little interaction I have had with her, this is extremely out of character for her. The main belief is that she is not answering her phone due largely to embarrassment over the entire ordeal, but I am still pretty worried about her. We'll have to see what happens on Thursday, I suppose.

I just hope that she doesn't get fired over this. That would piss me off majorly.
Of course, I also don't know the entire story. I've been getting all of the above info 3rd hand and have not yet talked to anyone directly involved, so [shrug]. Another semi pointless story from me, I guess.


And, now another work day has come to a successful close. And, yet again, I have not done diddly squat on my story. Don't I know that I only have six more months to complete it before it "happens"? Well, technically, that isn't true, since it "began" back in the 1960s. But still.

I'll send this off, and then later add in the xmas story sentence. I hope that there are explosions in today's installment. Explosions or robots or time travel. That would be cool.


Amy said...

This entry is pretty great, but I hope that isn't it.

The word is "javus." I'm so serious.

CosmicAvatar said...

Who laughs at their friend when they get into an accident?

Probably the sort of person who has become desensitized to watching accidents of that nature on home video shows and don't seem to realize that the genuine ones probably freaking hurt. I cannot understand how they can show those kinds of things and think they're funny.

Poor drunk suicidal woman. I hope she's OK.

Also, stegosaurus! Dude!