Let Dreams Be Dreams

So, interesting dream last night, and all these college essays are reminding me how much I enjoy creative writing…

 

I found myself in a mystical land. The grass is extremely pretty. There is a castle sitting on a cliff by the shoreline. Very happy place, Disney like. A tree near the castle has branches spread out like a hammock and in that hammock lays a statue. I walk towards the castle, of course I’m a disembodied mass as this dream occurs in the third person, unlike some books we know, and I see that this statue is made out of chocolate and is actually the mascot for Burger King.

“The King” lays in a seductive pose. Head propped up on one arm, other arm hanging loosely by his hip. His legs are open, the feet are touching, both knees are bent, but the leg on top is upright, forming a triangle-shape with his legs. Out of nowhere I am transported into the ocean abroad and I am on a ship. There is a couple, Bell(a) and the Beast. But of course the rose is no longer an issue so now the Beast has changed his name to Edward. They are deeply in love with each other and are sailing along to form a kingdom of their own. They see the castle and head for shore.

Right when they anchor in, The King poofs out of nowhere with his queen and three children and challenges Edward and Bell to a challenge, or rather just Bell, if he wins, he keeps Bell as his maid, if Bell wins, she can leave with Edward. But there’s a catch, the whole time Edward is restrained to the one cabin on the ship.

Yeah my dreams are a bit trippy, so I missed all the competitions and perhaps the most vivid part of my dream is Bell’s trek back to the ship. For some reason it is a beautiful day out as the end of all Disney movies are, but the dock to the ship is SUPER windy and it’s ridiculously hard to Bell to make her way. I’m pretty sure during this part, five hours of real life time passed, but who knows. But Bell is struggling her way to meet back with Edward, but Edward has no idea what’s going on, he’s just sitting in his little Captain’s lodge sullenly hoping that Bell(a) wins the competition. Of course Bell is screaming for Edward, but her voice is blown away with the wind.

Finally Bell(a) and Edward are reunited and they hug. The feeling of love permeated the atmosphere so much and my disembodied third person felt engaged. The hug so tight, so lasting, then…. “OHHHH, it’s been a hard day’s night, and I been workin’ like a doogg, it’s been a hard day’s night, I should be sleeping like a loggg.”

And I wake up, the feeling of love, now empty, but the song still playing in my head.

'When I'm home, feeling you holding me tight, TIGHT, YEAH'

- The Beatles

 

Yet Another College Creative Prompt

Although it may appear to the contrary, we do know that people have a life beyond what they do to get into college. Tell us about an experience you have had outside of your formal classroom and extracurricular activities that was just plain fun and why.

 

            I awoke from my car-ride slumber to see the bright blue sky looming overhead. The two-hour car ride to Ogunquit, Maine was finally over. The anticipation of the fun-filled day ahead of me manifested itself as I stepped out of the car, stretched my limbs and let out a gleeful shout. I grabbed my stuff out of the trunk as the other three other cars in our group pulled into the parking lot. I could see the joy in all of their eyes as they piled against the windows to look at the stunning blue sky and the crowded shoreline.

            I smiled and waved at my friends as the minivans drove by, but then I kicked my flip-flops off, ripped my T-shirt off, and ran towards the beach, sprinting top speed, screaming the whole time. To my dismay, the notorious stories of the Ogunquit beach’s icy waters had slipped my mind, and as I took my first steps into the water, the shock hit me hard and I lost my breath and froze in place.

Unfortunately, in my excitement, I did not hear or see my friend Chris running directly behind me the whole way. As I splashed into the frigid water and stopped suddenly from shock, Chris was unable to stop himself in time and ran straight into me knocking me face-first into the freezing liquid beneath forcing out another scream. Chris behind me laughingly apologized and helped me to my feet and I walked as quickly as my frozen feet would carry me back to dry land. I quickly took out my towel and wiped the liquid nitrogen off my body and put my T-shirt back on as I attempted to warm up.

The whole group had watched my embarrassing, unintentional ice water dive from the parking lot. So as I walked back towards them to pick a meeting space on the beach, everyone was laughing at my clumsy antics. But I knew everyone was laughing in good fun and I could not help but laugh along with them as I told them what had happened. Of course my interpretation was sure to include my highly dramatized thought process and whatever else I felt made the story funnier.

Though my plunge into the water was painful, I felt that my sacrifice had been penguin-like. Just as penguins hit their companions into the ocean to test for potential danger, I was the scapegoat to see if the waters were safe. Since I had come back out alive, the waters were deemed predator-free. As people inched towards the water for the rest of the day, they did not make the same mistake I did, and they slowly waded their way deeper into the water.

As the day progressed, I spent more time sun-bathing on the beach with my friends as we dug holes and built sand castles. I was reluctant to head into the water as my first experience was slightly scarring, but the gigantic waves, the excruciating heat, and above all the urgings of my friends compelled me towards the scary sea. Nearing the water, my heart began racing as I thought of the hypothermic conditions. But as I started riding the waves with my friends, the various competitions we created on the spot blocked most nerve endings in my extremities. With my friends around it was almost impossible to remember my drastic first entry.

Although my to accidental water test was the most exciting event, the other memories I hold from that beach are not lost. Every moment I spent on that beach will always hold a special place in my memory because I went with my church youth group. We are a close-knit group, and everything we do together is always fun. Whether it be going to the beach or just mindlessly watching television, being around the people that I love trumps everything.

Tufts "Optional" Creative Essay

Yes yes, LYF retreat post was promised. But I guess I lied.

So seeing as how I had to write a creative essay while applying to college. I'll post it here as well.

"Tufts develops leaders who will address the intellectual and social challenges of the new century. Since critical thinking, creativity, practicality and wisdom are four elements of successful leadership, the following topics offer you an opportunity to illustrate these various characteristics. We invite you to choose one and prepare an essay of 250-400 words. (And it really is optional!)"

Yeah mos def. Optional college essay, freaking liars. But I enjoy creative writing, so whatever.

"7. Use one of the following topics to create a short story:

a. The Spam Filter"

            Filper’s eyes quickly opened as he peered into the vast openness in front of him. Nothing in sight. The day slowly dragged on and his eyes began to droop, but he still vigilantly stood his post. As the hour neared seven in the PM, he took a shot of his notorious coffee and coke mixture. The time had come, where his post as the spam filter would be put to the test. Seven was the hour of the highest traffic of spam. Filper was fashioned by the greatest spam filter programmer ever. He could filter ten thousand emails per second and read one million words per minute, but speed was not of the essence in his job. The quality of his filtration out weighed anything.

One spam e-mail into the sacred inbox could have devastating effects. That naïve e-mail user could possess a lazy finger and click on every incoming message without reading the subject, “FREE ROLEX WATCHES!!!$@#$^&!!SCAM!!!!”  After opening the offending

e-mail, he would realize that it was not from his boss Joe, though it was from Joe123@spam.com, and see that it was spam. And of course everyone hates spam, the e-mail type at least, so he would marvel at the “stupidity” of those spammers who placed a link to stop the spam in clear sight. Unaware of the fact that the link was actually a switch to the endless torrents of relentless spam, he would click to “stop” future contact link. In doing so, he would open the flood gates of spam hell.

            This hypothetical situation kept Filper on his toes whenever spam rush hour neared. In fact, Filper almost worked himself into a spam-lust as he imagined all the filtration he was to be doing. The satisfaction of directing those terrible e-mails into the deep, dark folder labeled “Junk Mail” could not be matched by any other activity. Being a spam filter is what Filper was born to do, it was his calling. He poured his attention to the fields ahead of him again and when the first sight of an enemy appeared, his filtering began, his test of endurance. As his skill was put to the test, his user logged on and this spurred Filper on even greater, his leader was watching him at his best. Then, as if in slow motion, his king clicked on the junk mail folder opened the first email and clicked the “unsubscribe” button…

Word Count: 403

Enjoy!

Up and Coming...

A reflection of the happennings at LYF Retreat is on its way. Of course after Hamlet's sanity is discussed in three "well-thought-out" paragraphs...

The finished product

Leave an e-mail. It will be sent... (unless I deem you "unworthy")

and by unworthy I mean until I check my blog again. I'm not some comment whore, contrary to what some beleive.

In the mean time, enjoy this music.

Here

Here too

Here be Three

More music will come as I check for comments.

VBS Long Essay Super Draft

“I have to go to the bathroom Peter,” I said as I made the universal little kids’ bathroom signal.

“Okay hurry up! Come on!” replied Peter, the teacher assistant for my class as he led the way to the bathroom. After I unloaded my bladder I quickly hurried back to the main sanctuary where the worship was being held. I loved jumping, singing, and dancing around with the one hundred other kids who were also attending my church’s annual Vacation Bible School (VBS).

As I returned to the sanctuary the band was playing one of my favorite songs “Whose Side are You Leaning on?” and I let out of scream of glee and I mimicked the motions the worship leaders demonstrated. As the song played on, I noticed that one of my fellow campers was not as enthusiastic as I was and instead of dancing along with the rest of us, he was sitting bored on the floor staring blankly.

Determined to get him involved in the song, I naively walked up to him and start nudging him and unknowingly annoying him to no avail. When the song called for a leaning motion, I would put all of my weight onto him and lean. I thought that by making him part of the motions that I would get him involved but the next thing I knew, I was in a full fledged 3^rd grade headlock. I had not thought of the possibility of violence and being probably a full thirty-five pounds lighter than my adversary, I was in no way to escape easily. But with his arm nearby and my fast thinking brain, I opened my big mouth and bit down hard on the soft arm of my fellow camper…

Since that dreadful day of having the salty arm of my once-enemy inside of my mouth I have not failed to return to VBS almost every year. The camp has been with me for pretty much my whole life and has significantly shaped my personality. From seeing the cooler youth helpers and taking them as my role-models to being one of the cooler youth helpers who is a role-model, I have grown into the man I am today.

[Insert non-existent college essay-worthy personality traits and self-reflection here]

Now as I am entering the next stage of my life I will still never fail to return to volunteer every summer at my church’s VBS and hear the words that I myself one uttered. “I have to go to the bathroom.”

- - - -

Worth finishing?

Vocalistic Breakage Scholarliness

Hello again my devoted readers. I am proudly bored of my summer vacation so here I am remembering that I can busily enjoy myself for a bit and provide all of you with perhaps 5-10 minutes of entertainment to help alleviate the dull days of summer. But be not discouraged I will provide some more outlets of temporary enjoyment at the end of this post.

“ROCK!” The sound echoed through the transparent plastic drum shield of which Dalziel was rocking out behind. The little children wearing different color coded matching T-shirts screamed along with the music. This cult-like T-shirt wearing was called Vacation Bible School, VBS and Dalziel was playing drums for their worship as well as being a TA for the 2^nd oldest kids of the camp.

Dalziel was to assist Eberhard in his teaching along with Mahalia. The days rolled on and Dalziel did not really expect to be too well-liked by the campers. He was never very good at working with little kids so he was not as active with the kids as Eberhard and Mahalia. Sure the kids would do the random things that they do such as renaming him Charlie (the Turtle) or Goat among other things, but Dalziel was just awkward when it came to interacting with kids. The kids seemed to love Eberhard especially and would always attack him and climb on him, they did this with Mahalia as well but not quite near as much as they did with Eberhard. For his personal bubble being kept in tact, Dalziel felt happy and sad at the same time. He was glad that he could have his moments of nap time when his help was not needed, but also sad that his campers did not really like him that much.

Then Wednesday arrived. The day of the water games, and by water games I mean randomly running around and owning people in the face with water. Dalziel knew before hand that Mahalia would be leaving at around 12:30 that day which was conveniently right when the game time was scheduled to end. With this in mind, during the day before water games, Dalziel was scheming along with Eberhard to push Mahalia and all the other girls into the pool and soak them. The water soakage was bound to be boys versus girls because at this age, the children were not really attracted to the opposite gender, but had more of a hate/slight attraction relationship with each other. So it was to be 4 male campers and 2 male staffers versus 12 female campers and 1 female staffer.

The time of execution neared and the kids filed semi-organized into the courtyard where the gallows were stationed. They sat down in a circle where they obediently listened to the games coordinator. He had planned 2 preliminary “moistings” before the real marinating was to begin. The kids were dribbled with water as the hot sun beat down on them overhead. Towards the end of the 2^nd game, the kids were on the verge of explosion when the games coordinator ran to the hose and sprayed all the kids down and started screaming. Madness ensued and the previous scheming was forgotten for a small period of time. Then as the Spartans were quelled for a bit, the plans re-emerged in their brains and the pushing and pulling towards the pool commenced.

After all the fun was to be had, Dalziel and Eberhard had each been dunked around 4 times, but Mahalia had been dunked a whopping 10-12 times. For all the madness that had occurred during the games, it was no where near the madness that was to happen during transition time.

As all the kids were wet, they needed to change out of their wet clothes. Seeing as girls will be girls, all 12 of them went into the bathroom and changed all at once. The guys, being guys, went into the bathroom, saw that the stall was broken and decided to change in the classroom together. The girls finished relatively quickly and all filed out of the bathroom fully dressed. The guys were taking forever inside the classroom and Eberhard was faithfully guarding the door as the 4 boys slowly changed. As the girls waited outside the classroom, they began to get restless. Then Eberhard made the mistake of putting his head in to check on the progress. The 12 girls saw that the door was ajar and all threw their bodies against the door pushing and screaming, “WE WANNA SEE!! AHAHAHAHAH!” Eberhard who knew the progress inside saw that one of the boys was stark naked under the table and held strongly against the mass of girls who were experiencing their new found hormones. This excitement they could not contain! 1^st going to the bathroom in groups and now boys! =O NO WAI! But alas, the bigger and stronger boys Eberhard and Dalziel protected their fellow males and held the ground with Eberhard holding the door only slightly ajar and Dalziel pulling 3-6 girls off the mass from the back.

This attempt of the obstruction of privacy was the most exciting and surprising part of VBS and for the rest of the week, Dalziel got a little bit closer to his campers and was dead tired. But that did not stop his midnight excursions into the wonderful land of Johto and Kanto…

That’s all for now, I may start making stuff up or posting up drafts of my college essay up here sooner or later. But some temporary respite from boredom is found here http://www.kongregate.com?referrer=littlestsun . Random flash games, do some achievements get some points, level up and all the while if you sign up with that link give me points too! =O yes this is what I have degraded to.

Gamers Un-ited

Now that my gaming “career” is “over” I can reflect on what kind of twisted world I have just left. Or should I say, that Dalziel has just left =O

- - - -

“LOL I PWN YOU NOOB!” typed the despicable little nerdy boy with 5 inch thick glasses who spent all of his time inside in a dark room that was illuminated by the bright liquid crystals of his 24 inch LCD widescreen monitor.

“That’s it. How retarded are these kids who flame each other over the internet because they’re unhappy with their real lives. They spend all their time inside a dark room that is illuminated by the bright liquid crystals of a 24 inch LCD widescreen monitor” thought Dalziel as he threw his headset at his 24 inch LCD widescreen monitor. He had had enough of this enormous waste of his time.

Years Dalziel had spent in front of his bright 24 inch LCD widescreen, and all those years had gone to waste. He hated the more “hard core” aspects of the gaming world. When the leagues came and he and his friends attempted to make it big and to be the best, after it was all over, there were separated by the ridiculously numerous channels in vent and might as well have been worlds apart. Gaming was supposed to bring them together, not tear them apart. When the league play dissipated though, all was well, times were good, and friendships were strong. But right when the league came back, words were shot, times were bad, and friendships were being tested.

With all this in mind, Dalziel could not think of the reason why he kept coming back to the same villain who had ripped him apart and glued him back together again so many times. When Runescape lost is allure where did he turn? He turned to Gunz, Gunbound, Rakion, WoW, Rohan, Silk, Maple, TF2, Portal, Hellgate: London (biggest waste of money ever), DoTA, D2, and Rose just to name a few. Why? That was his only question. What sadistic nature embedded in Dalziel kept forcing him to keep his head under the water when all he really needed was the precious oxygen 2 inches up?

With the chain of words he had heard over and over again many times, “I pwn you noob!” it finally hit him. He had awoken to the crisp smell of the coffee that no one really drank. All those posers who thought they were being classy with their Starbucks cups in hand sipping their “coffee” never really drank coffee. Their drug of choice was sugar and cream, sugar and cream with a touch of coffee. The reason he had been holding his hand in the roaring fire had been to help him forget the problems of his life. Instead of using drugs and alcohol like the average teenager, Dalziel had gotten creative in his method of madness. Since he was a Christian, drugs and alcohols were a strict no-no, so instead of physically numbing his body with his mind, he took the path that left the body directly unharmed.

Though the body was left out of the direct line of fire, the mind in turn received of more focused beam of the numbing effects, this escape of the mind was so powerful that it drove the whole being into an addictive crazed state. Instead of wanting to always be out of the house and chilling with people in person, this beam of power was a magnet that always sucked Dalziel into the world of the internet. For the moments he was in front of his 24 inch widescreen LCD, Dalziel could forget all his problems and not deal with them. He could push them to the very outskirts of his brain where he would all but remember them.

But as the years rolled on by, Dalziel’s brain began to evolve. No longer would it succumb to the magnetic force of the 24 inch widescreen, it slowly developed a resistance to the drug. This resistance force tried to exert its dominance as the new alpha male many times before, but Dalziel was not strong enough. The addictive chemicals had seeped into his fat and when there were no more intakes, it would eat a bit of the chemical-laden fat and Dalziel would feel the cravings and relapse.

These stoppings and relapsings had been occurring on and off, and with them as the resistant strain of Dalziel brain grew stronger, bouts of depression would accompany these cycles making them even deadlier. Then another variable was thrown into the mix and things became even more dangerous. This variable was highly unexpected but very potent; few know the dangers of this unseen renegade variable. To this day, Dalziel is still unsure about this lonesome explosive variable, but he has moved on with his life and gone through the intense rehab known as his will power.

Dalziel’s one true source of power in his life stems from within his own body. The only problem with this power source is that it is fails easily, with any pressure or perhaps a new but similar renegade variable, it collapses into a little ball and assumes the fetal position until it finds its lemons and stares the foe down into a little corner where it then consumes the offending’s soul.

- - - -

“Sometimes solutions aren't so simple.
Sometimes goodbye's the only way.

And the [S]un will set for you,
The [S]un will set for you.”

Revelation hits like a little girl

I have officially quit gaming hard core style. Games are no longer fun to me and I have just realized that games were actually my escape from the world. In an extreme illustration, games were my drugs. I would “use” because I could not deal with all my pent up emotions and would just game into numbness. Now I guess I’ve grown resistant to this strain of gaming known as EVERYTHING I HAVE EVER PLAYED which is basically everything known to man.

Now that I have finally quit the games/drugs, I hope that I will be a more open to share my emotions/talk to people. To all my gamer friends, which is like all my friends from school, even though I doubt any of them read this, this may sound like the end, but if you look closely at the word choice in the beginning, I said hardcore style. This does not mean I am completely closed against gaming because I’m pretty sure it’s going to be pretty hard for me to relapse like an alcoholic unless some amazing game comes out (COUGHD3COUGH) in the next 3 years. But even then, I will never go back to where I was before.

And also now that I have so much more free time on my hands, I will need to find a new hobby. What I am thinking of right now are basically, guitar, working out and getting ridiculously jacked Chuck Norris style on a total gym pro, reading a lot of random good books, writing more short stories for your reading pleasure, and chilling more with people in real life which doesn’t really work so well during the school year. Another option which I guess has always been there but never kind of neglected to the extreme is Frisbee. I’ve been on the team ever since freshmen year and yet, I still suck. Well I guess I don’t suck compared to the really bad people on the team, but seeing how I’ve been playing for 3 years now, the level of my skill is ridiculously low. So I guess I could become the all around awesome kid who no longer games his pain and emotions away into numbness but instead tackles his emotions and feelings head on in the face like a wave. Whatever waves life may throw at me, I promise that I will no longer ride the wave and give into the numbness of just riding it calmly back. I will run with my head held high and stance strong and dive into the ocean of the world and defeat it. I will prevail.

With all that said, I will probably need some of your help in keeping me on my feet. Sometimes I may be feeling quite tired from the extreme cold of the waters of life so I may need a friend to huddle together with for warmth and energy to get back out there and keep on fighting. Therefore, you should start talking to me again on AIM or whatever you have previously tried to contact me with oh so many years ago. I realized that since I was always gaming without an away message, I would receive many a chance to talk and share about my life, but I would be too enveloped in the allure of a stupid game to notice. To many if not all of you, I apologize for my gaming having shunned you away from ever getting to know me better and I ask you now, please, please do talk to me. I really do want to get to know you better. You can also remind me to not game.

Speaking of all these waves… the beach today was pretty fun. Running chest first and slamming into those huge waves at Ogunquit could not be topped. Yes the water was freaking cold at 59 degrees, but I manned up and took the hit and did not pull a Ryan Fung. =P Sitting in the car seeing people dance and wave at the ridiculously baked women in the trunk was also quite amusing if not the high light of sitting in the car. I also shared some quality time with my techno raver buddy sharing headphones. To all of you lame kids who did not go, you all missed out on my ridiculously chiseled bod. So since next year is my last LYF beach trip you don’t want to miss out! If you don’t go next year I’ll have to start charging for looks/feels. Just ask Chris Huang, kid was all over me strangely enough.

Hello World...

Just dropping in to say that I am still here but am waiting for myself to become less lazy and actually kick my butt into gear and write a story. Kinda just bumming around for now. Letting summer take its droll effects on me as I sit here and absorb the laziness of summer that will soon be replaced by the burning, fuming scent of a college common application essay being written and rewritten.

With all that said. Hello world.

"But I could not recall
A more perfect fall
Cause when I looked up into your eyes
It didn't hurt at all."

Pyro Meet Sheer Stupidity/Peer Pressure

Dalziel found himself celebrating his birthday with his friends at his house. He was very last minute in his planning and found himself calling people up at the last minute and asking them if they could come. It was the Saturday of the 1^st full week of summer, Dalziel spent most of his time going around to people’s houses and chilling, but when alone for the small snippets of the day, would simmer in his own thoughts and become saddened by the massive void of free time that seemed to pervade throughout his whole summer.

He had tried to get a job long ago in March, but the silly company took forever to respond and Dalziel went through many actions in attempts to raise the company’s awareness of his availability. When June swung around, Dalziel found himself desperate and also applied to Staples. Still simmering, Dalziel needed to find a way to un-isolate himself and surround himself with the company of others.

Thus, this last-minute “birthday party” was thrown together. It all seemed to be going well, a decent number of people showed up, they arrived and chilled in the basement for a while. Playing Wii for a bit, but then after awhile, the allure of the Wii started to wear off and the party moved upstairs and outdoors; out into the driveway of Dalziel and his street style un-used basketball hoop.

Dalziel never was really interested in basketball, but he still enjoyed watching his friends play and screaming at the amazing and not so amazing moves pulled off by his friends. But then after another small window of time, basketball started to get boring as well so as Dalziel walked around his garage in an attempt to find something to do, his eyes passed over the Poland Springs Bottle filled with pure ethanol; a highly flammable substance. So Dalziel went inside to find some matches or a lighter. After futilely rummaging through the drawers in his cabinets, Dalziel remembered that his dad had kept some sort of “special” matches from a high class restaurant in the china cabinet. Dalziel grabbed the matches and the alcohol, and walked back out onto the driveway where his friends where still playing basketball. He moved down the driveway a bit from where they were playing, poured some alcohol on the driveway, and threw a match on it. The ethanol immediately burst into a deep red/orange color. The strange color of the flame mesmerized Dalziel as he stared wonderingly into the depth of the fire.

As the ethanol started to burn out, Dalziel quickly poured some more out into the pile and then realized that he was messing up his driveway. So he ran inside and got a cup of water and doused the ground on which he had been burning. After the dousing, Dalziel realized he was burning the special matches like no tomorrow, so inside the house he went in search of a candle to minimize the usage of the matches. He emerged once again with a lit candle in hand and headed to the back of the house where not as many people could see their exploits of the pyro nature.

As they explored the wonders of the ethanol and the mesmerizing nature of fire, Northrop came outside to spectate the happenings of the afternoon with fire.

“Yo Dalziel, why don’t you try putting some alcohol on your hand and lighting it on fire. It doesn’t hurt,” suggested Northrop.

“I’ve seen it done before, but you try it first!” As Dalziel was saying this, Northrop had already grabbed the bottle of ethanol and opened it.

“No thanks, you try, it won’t hurt!” said Northrop as he doused Dalziel’s hand with a dollop of ethanol. The battle of what to do inside Dalziel’s head was short lived but multifaceted. Light his hand and fire and see some awesome pyro activities as well as some awesome “street cred” or light his hand on fire and burn terribly. The lure of the awesomeness of this hand on fire won in the end and Dalziel slowly inched his hand closer to the burning candle. As his hand hovered one foot over the candle, Dalziel let the pool of alcohol loose and pointed his hand down toward the flame. As soon as the 1^st drop of alcohol reached its ignition temperature the flame raced towards Dalziel’s hand instantaneously and one foot above the candle, Dalziel’s hand was ripped back due to reflex and then shaken violently. The sound of fire whipping and burning in violent wind was echoing inside of Dalziel’s head as he tried to desperately shake out the alcohol fire on his hand. The whole time, Dalziel’s friends were sitting their observing the stupidity of Dalziel as he had tried to simulate the fantasy world and casted a fireball.

From merely observing Dalziel’s fireball remain on his hand, Dalziel’s friends could tell that Dalziel was no mage. Mages did not burn their hands when trying to cast fireball. So Dalziel finished screaming as the last of the alcohol was burned up and quickly sprinted inside to run his hand under cold water… Never again would Dalziel experiment with fire on his body, the pain of the burn flowed powerfully through the whole left hand of Dalziel. This unbearable pain was reminder enough for Dalziel that fire was the ultimate enemy of biological beings…

So my hand was burnt quite severely and one would expect that it would still be extremely painful as there was fire on my hand, but miraculously, I feel no pain whatsoever in my hand. I thank God that he has healed me and also thank my parents for being involved in the healing ministries and praying powerfully in the spirit to ease my pain. Any questions feel free to vent/IM/call. Amen.

Bored #1

Yes, so, I’m kind of bored right now. So I’ll write a random story. And here begins the randomness.

Dalziel was running out of time. The clock was ticking away and as its illustrious hand reached the not so illustrious 0 mark of the timer, something big was bound to happen. Tick Tock went the clock. Ticking and tocking, the clock spent its days hanging on the wall, peering over the room as an overseer peers over his slaves. Only the clock did not have a whip in hand, he was satisfied just pointing at numbers all the days of his life; or rather the length that his heart lasted him. Once in a while, after his heart gave out, Mr. Clock would sit like dead meat on a hook, but alas, Dalziel would notice the stench of Mr. Clock’s rotting corpse and perform open-heart surgery in a matter of seconds and resuscitate Mr. Clock from his dark days of death.

For this, Mr. Clock felt an extreme attachment to Dalziel. All this love that Dalziel showed him by looking at him lovingly and saving his life when needed was just so rainbow styling to Mr. Clock and for that he was sure that Dalziel was the man of his dreams. But of course before Mr. Clock could spend his days together with Dalziel, he had to undergo a sex change because he was sure that Dalziel was not gay. Mr. Clock spent many hours of his days pondering how to achieve this seemingly impossible task; he would have to undergo such a rare operation all without using his hands. His hands were bound to their circular path as Mr. Clock suffered from extreme obsessive compulsive disorder (OCD). If Mr. Clock stopped moving his three hands around for even one second, he would lapse into a deep sickness from which he could never recover even with the magical life-saving hands of Dalziel.

Then one day, as Mr. Clock was sleeping, he felt the pull of something strange. He was being lifted off the hook that bound him to his mundane place on the wall. This force was very strange to Mr. Clock; a bit frightening and exciting at the same time. Then when this strange power finally ripped Mr. Clock off the wall he neared the source of this magnetic force and saw that it was a super massive black hole. Hands still pointing and moving, Mr. Clock thought this was the end. He would never see Dalziel again, and about that he was correct…

Dalziel’s sleeping time ran out. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and rolled onto the floor where Ladridia lovingly licked his face to Dalziel’s complaints.

“Ahhh… stop Ladridia!” exclaimed Dalziel in disgust. He rewashed his recently washed face with water instead of dog saliva and as he brushed his teeth, thought of the strange dream he had. There had been lots of clocks and some strange personification of these clocks. He thought nothing more of his extremely abstract dream, but unbeknownst to Dalziel, his dream would have much importance in the days to come. By thinking about the dream while awake and kicking, Dalziel had unknowingly fulfilled the prophecy of the magical land of the clocks. Dalziel’s day continued without event and the thought of his dream never entered his head for days. He lived life as he normally would, extremely routinely. Wake up, go to school, sleep in class, wake up for snippets, copy frantically what was on the board, go back to sleep, eat lunch, go home, game with friends on vent, do homework, eat dinner, talk to people on AIM/surf internet, go to sleep, and repeat.

Then suddenly, while Dalziel was sleeping, he felt a strange presence in his room. He thought he was dreaming so thought nothing of this new aura in his room, he continued sleeping and enjoyed the softness and warmth of his pillows. He rolled over and shifted to find a better position, but as he did so, he kicked the hand of this new person in his room. As his foot connected with this strange hard substance, Dalziel realized that this was no dream…

He was suddenly wide awake and he grabbed the nearest object that could serve as a weapon. His natural-born survival instincts were kicking in as Dalziel clenched his metal flashlight tightly. He slowly stumbled out of his bed and headed toward where he had heard the intruder scamper... As he neared the pile of potentially dirty laundry, his heart started beating harder and harder, “ba-dump, ba-DUMP, BA-DUMP… THUMP!” Dalziel’s heart leapt straight out of his chest and lay still-beating in the middle of the pile of the now bloody laundry. Dalziel fell over lifeless onto the pile but in so doing, he landed perfectly so that his still-beating heart was shoved back into his chest and he awoke again with a huge gasp of air that filled his lungs so much that his lungs burst and he died yet again… Dalziel’s lifeless body lay rotting on the floor but then the clock climbed out of the corner and returned that favor that he had received so many times. He performed surgery on Dalziel and resuscitated him to life, after that simple action, Mr. Clock picked Dalziel back up and placed him back into his bed. Mr. Clock summoned forth his super massive black hole again and with one last teary-eyed look back at Dalziel, jumped back into the whole and left Dalziel to live his life.

Dalziel awoke the next morning and felt an odd pain in his chest but coughed a few times and thought nothing of it. The pain subsided and Dalziel walked into the bathroom past a small, mangled battery on the floor with a note attached. “You saved my life so many times so I thought I would return the favor…” Dalziel thought nothing of the note and tossed the battery along with the note into the trash can and proceeded to brush his teeth…

The Morning of Unfortunate Events

I apologize for the long delay in this new episode in my blog, but alas, the gaming skin is hard to shed, especially when you hang out with a bunch of other gamers. But I have cut back I’d say a good 50% on my gaming time compared to my olden days, so I’d say I’m making decent progress. Though whether or not I want to quit completely or just leave it where it is at this lower margin, we’ll see. And seeing as how my polling scarce polling last night was not sufficient, and I’m writing a new blog now, I’ll put my poll right here.

What makes my stories interesting? I know I have a unique writing style that makes it interesting to read, but topic-wise, what is the most appealing topic? Stories of my past “romantic” flings (though there are basically no more of those as the gas mask has expelled all the numerous possibilities given my extremely, ridiculously, handsome physique =P)? Or stories of just random funny days? If both are interesting, then I guess the only remedy is if I live a more exciting life…

But enough with the future, we’ll move back into the present and commence with my story…

Yet again we meet Dalziel being his sleepy adolescent self, rolling out of bed to the petulant sound of his 10 minute auto-snooze cell phone. This 10 minute auto-snooze feature would prove itself to be a terrible “feature”. The previous night had been a particularly eventful night as Dalziel’s whole family was together for the first time in a long time as both of his brother’s had returned home from college, but alas, this unity could not last. Northrop was headed off to Korea the next morning at 5 A.M. to spend time with his girl friend =O. So although Dalziel was not directly speaking to either of his brothers, he felt the need to stay up as a means to acknowledge the fact that he would not be seeing his brother again for another month. Or he was just using that as an excuse to stay up late…

So that very morning, Dalziel’s parents were leaving early also to send off Northrop to the airport so they would not be home when Dalziel awoke to relentless sounding of his 10 minute auto-snooze super feature cell phone.

*insert “Energize.mid”* “oh crap 53! Dang it! I’m gonna miss my bus” Those were the 1^st thoughts running through Dalziel’s mind on that one fateful morning. He sprung out of bed like a fully-loaded air soft spring, ran to the bathroom while taking off his PJs, washed his face and combed his crazy morning hair, all done while taking off his PJs to save time, ran back into his room, shoved his still sounding 10 minute auto-snooze feature phone into pocket of his back pack, got dressed, grabbed his iPod off its docking bay, and ran out the door sprinting full speed [under the beaming rays of the sun after a flying piece of plastic] (limited inside joke).

So Dalziel reached the bus stop and the normals were not there, but luckily, Dalziel lived on a large hill and the bus would have to come back down the hill in order to get to school and thus, Dalziel often boarded the bus while it was descending the hill. Dalziel took this morning to be just another morning where he would be doing just that, boarding the bus while it was heading towards the school down the hill, but as Dalziel inserted the headphones into his welcoming ears, Bus 23 pull up the hill…

“The hell? I ride bus 14? What’s bus 23 doing here?” pondered Dalziel as the bus turned into his neighborhood. “OH HOLY CRAP! INTO THE NEIGHBORHOOD MEANS ELEMENTARY SCHOOL KIDS! WHICH MEANS IT’S…” Dalziel whipped his left arm out of his back pack straps, swung his frayed, green L.L. Bean backpack around his body opened the pocket where the 10 minute auto-snooze feature phone lay awaiting it’s demise…

7:55

“No freaking way… one hour late…” Dalziel sprinted full speed back to his house, punched in the garage code to open the door back up, ran upstairs with Ladridia hot on his heels barking her furry little head off, grabbed his wallet with his license in it, and jump down the last 8 steps of the stairs, grabbed the keys out of their basket by the door, and jumped into the car. He deftly whipped out his cell phone while starting the engine and dialed his dad’s office so he would know that he was driving to school. No answer so Dalziel left a simple message as he backed out of his drive way going 20. Dalziel floored the acceleration for the 3^rd time in his short driving career and reached the school in half the time than usual, the one set back was that the junior’s parking lot relatively near the school was completely full so Dalziel drove up the hill only to see that that parking lot was also full. The last option was the K-Mart about half a mile away from the school.

Dalziel pulled into the parking lot and could not find a spot on the small lot closest to the school so he went down the hill and parked in the back corner of the dreaded “lower K-Mart”. The place where the lowest of the low’s of those who drove to school parked. By this time, Dalziel had calmed down considerably and he slowly waltzed the half mile to school and walked to his locker where he disposed of his belongings and walked to the front office to get his tardy slip, this one fateful day would be on Dalziel’s record forever. This was the only tardy/absence Dalziel had received thus far into his junior year at high school… to make matters even worse, the late slip lady informed Dalziel that if he did not want a truancy from his class, he would have to bring in a note, but to this day, 7 days later, Dalziel has still not handed in a note but he has also not received a truancy note. Dalziel hopes that this matter will clear itself out, but he highly doubts it…

Now remember, leave a comment, answer the questions in the poll that was horribly placed at the beginning of this wonderful story. Thank you.

One last thing before I go. AFTER, I repeat AFTER you fulfill the poll, read this. It may be a bit “racy” for those younger readers, but I do say, it is the best thing I had read in a long time.

Riddle #1

New type of writing in testing, I will write stories from the perspective of some random noun and you, the readers will have to guess what it is! 1^st person to guess correctly will receive something from me. As of now, that something will be a hug? Maybe a quarter? Or maybe… you won’t get anything but the satisfaction of winning… you’ll have to wait and see! Answers can be accepted either via AIM or Comments. That way I have a way of telling from the timestamps I receive.

The small clatter and thump of Rogelio’s head onto the glass surface of the curved precipice awoke himself and his numerous companions. Last they knew they were sleeping soundly in the dark pouch of their cave, but this new environment didn’t look too bad. It was well lit and the floor was extremely smooth. Then before they knew it, Rogelio and his companions were being drowned alive! There was a strange whitish substance that came pouring out of a huge gaping hole that appeared out of nowhere! The waterfall of this white liquid seemed to be eating his companions alive as with each contact, there was a loud CRACKLE/POP. Rogelio tried to run away, but he could not. He and his friends were packed in like sardines in a can. He had no choice but to accept his grisly fate to be consumed and melted by the strange liquid.

He closed his non-existent eyes and gritted his non-existent teeth as he braced himself for the gigantic wave of the substance. To his surprise, the cracks he felt ripping through his body did not kill him, all they did was scare the living daylights out of him as he could not control the gases escaping his body. It was as if he had eaten a LOT of beans and kept releasing explosive farts the ripped through the air and created a small gun-shot explosion.

So Rogelio just sat back and tried to imagine that he was swimming in the ocean and tried to tune out the explosive CRACKS coming from his and his friends’ bodies. But then suddenly a strange silvery UFO attached to a stick hovered into his vision and started descending rapidly. He tried to franticly swim away from the offending object as it dipped under the surface of his new ocean and began lifting his friends up and away.

Rogelio successfully evaded the first couple of dips, but on the 6^th dip… his luck ran out. He was abducted along with 20 of his friends and they all went cracking and screaming into the gigantic cave that the UFO was taking all of his friends. The mouth of the cave was lined with squarish stalactites and stalagmites that were lined up perfectly, but inside the cave, it was symmetrically and evenly smoothed over with tiny bumps lining the floor.

Rogelio thought he was safe, but soon the opening of the cave began to close out the daylight and he could no longer see his surroundings. To make matters even worse, the floor started moving and pushing him towards the now moving stalactites and stalagmites! They were so perfectly aligned that there was virtually no room between them as the cave started moving around. Rogelio’s fate was sealed, he was crushed by the vicious stalactite/stalagmite combo and pushed down the waterfall in the back of the cave where he would sit and rot until the fishes came to eat him bloated corpse…

What is Rogelio?

What Can I Say? The oddities revolt!

Yeah, I’m sorry to say, but the previous idea submission was not flowing with me. I’m terribly sorry to say that I cannot bring myself to write off of something else. As of now I think the only things I can have fun and be involved while writing about is something I think up myself. =\ No hard feelings.

So more fiction to come, or maybe it isn’t fiction… decide that for yourself, this story I’m sure could go either way.

THWACK! “THE HELL ARE YOU DOING SLEEPING IN MY CLASS?” Dalziel awoke with a start and also a size 13 shoe-shaped mark on his face.

“SINE, COSINE, TANGENT!” shouted he with the shoe protruding out of his forehead.

“Oh, very good, you WERE paying attention. Now we can get on with class, but seriously? What would you do if I started sleeping during class, here let’s try now… … … … … … … … … … Not very productive huh?” Dalziel’s math teacher was going insane, he had always told stories of beating the crap out of “day dreamers”, but he never suspected that the left shoe of justice would rain down on his unsuspecting body, let alone his beautiful face. He was sure that the mark left from the shoe would be felt and seen for the next few days. What would he say to his mom? He couldn’t tell her what actually happened because Mr. Noeth would get fired and no one would want that. Noeth was the most epic teacher in the history of his school. Getting him fired would not look good and there would probably be more shoes of smaller sizes flying in his direction if he reported this horrific incident.

Dalziel attentively took notes for the rest of the period, but he was well aware of the many wide-eyed stares he was getting, or rather, the shoe-shaped mark on his face was getting. After class ended, Dalziel packed up his belongings and walked out the door caressing his now-scarred face.

“Dude, how’d that feel?” asked Gamaliel

“Meh, not too bad, just a bit sore, I guess I’m kind of in shock right now. He always tells stories, but I never thought he’d follow through with those insane plans. I mean honestly, why didn’t he just get me a cup of coffee or something. A freaking shoe to the face? Who does that?”

“Mr. Noeth does that, obviously. Pffft. And you’re in Honors trig and you can’t make that simple deductive reasoning? Downs much?”

“… no you…” was Dalziel’s curt reply as he split into another hall ready to attend Spanish Class. Heading into Spanish class his teacher quickly noticed the strange demarcation that covered the majority of Dalziel’s once handsome face.

“Qué pasó Dalziel?”

“Nada, nada, solo mi incapaz de andar.” So in his five minute walk to Spanish class, Dalziel had devised an ingenious plan to deal with the now-bluish mark on his face. He would claim that he was walking around outside to cut through the traffic of the over-crowded halls, not paying attention to where he was walking, and he fell over and unfortunately there was someone running to catch a football and he stepped on Dalziel’s face, hard. At this point, Dalziel was falling asleep again, probably from the slight concussion he felt coming on with the violent shoe to the face experience.

THWACK! “DALZIEL, ESTÁS DORMIENDO EN MI CLASE? NADA DE ESO!” Dalziel couldn’t take it anymore; he had had enough this with his ridiculous teachers. Two shoes to the face in one day were enough to drive him over the edge. He reached into backpack for this “special” friend whom he brought to him everyday just for days like this… slowly he pulled out his iPod, plugged in, and zoned out. After achieving the Zen he needed to fall asleep, he awoke with a start to the “Energize.midi” of his cellphone…

“The hell kind of dream was that?” thought Dalziel until he felt an odd aching pain that seemed to cover his whole adolescent, acne-scarred face that was the complete opposite of the one in his dreams… but only to some extent…

Trailer / Spoiler

Alright, so I promised something on Saturday, but since I forgot I had Iron Sharpens Iron today, I actually had less time than I thought to do random stuff on Saturday. So this will be a small window into the story that will be coming up, say the 1^st paragraph or so. Iron Sharpens Iron was pretty cool though, bunch of guys just coming together in Christ, cool to witness, good workshops, the usual conferencey type feeling. We’ll see if I put any of it to use.

Disclaimer: fiction follows this line.

Dalziel was excited that someone new was coming this visit his neighborhood. He lived in the neighborhood with not many people around save his two brothers and his best friend. Everyone else was a very elderly and did not ever leave the house as if the light of day would scar their skin forever. At this point in time, Dalziel’s mother was feeling contrary to how she normally felt. Instead of pulling Dalziel away from girls, she was feeling a need to quickly get Dalziel and his brothers married and out of the house. Despite this fact, Dalziel’s father was feeling similar to the typical Mrs. Dalziel.

The coming of this new guest was so big that even the people from the nearby neighborhoods were gathering together in Dalziel’s small section of the world and were getting ready with all their best clothing. They were planning on having the biggest block party Dalziel’s neighborhood would probably ever see. Everyone was excited especially since it seemed as though in Dalziel’s neighborhood and the surrounding ones, there were only guys. In other words, this guest visitor would be bringing in outside people that would change the “sausage fest” atmosphere that constantly surrounded Dalziel.

Apologies

Dear readers,

I am sorry to inform you, that my posts will probably be not as frequent as I had hoped, or at least not as frequent until school winds down, I recover from my sickness, and/or Frisbee games/practices stop being so intensely awesome. On a lighter note, I have had my first idea submission via AIM, so I do have something I can write about. I am pretty sure that the populace that reads my blog will find the topic very “juicy”, but due to reader discretion, I cannot reveal the idea. I hope this will not keep you up late at night, but if it does, you can always try and find out who submitted the idea and ask them, or you can just wait until I start writing it, probably Saturday. But until next post, I bid you… good eats! …errr… good night!

Love,

Dave Sun

Randomness

Today is the day, where I am flat out of ideas, and therefore I will just start writing random crap in a story format, whether it be true or not, you can decide that for yourself. But remember if you EVER, I come up with an idea that may POSSIBLY be interesting in ANYWAY, please do comment and tell me. Or talk to me on AIM/vent if that’s how you swing.

Dalziel awoke yet again to the sound of his cool cell phone alarm that actually isn’t very cool. He rolled out of bed onto Ladridia who was whining to be let out into the back yard so she could pee out all those warm yellow liquids inside of her bladder and then be fed after. But of course Dalziel being as sleepy as he was and needing to complete his morning chores, Ladridia’s whining was ignored as the warm yellow liquids inside Dalziel’s own body yearned to be released into the wonderful world of the septic tank just as Ladridia’s own liquids yearned to mix in with the bacteria living and re-spawning in the dirt.

So the warm yellow liquids got their wish, and the bacteria lining Dalziel’s tongue and teeth got what they deserved. After a night of eating away and causing bad breath inside the warm, moist environment of Dalziel’s mouth, they needed to be stabbed to death by the one hundred or so sharp plastic bristles of Dalziel’s tooth brush which were coated with the poison of Sodium Fluoride. After all the living organisms inside Dalziel’s bacteria infested body that needed to be dealt with were dealt with, he ran down the stairs and then, and only then, did the last organism make its cry. His stomach was amazingly empty, but since he was only half-awake, its cry was not yet strong enough to fully awaken the hunger factor to its full potential. Dalziel knew this fact well, so well that as he grabbed his one piece of buttered toast, he also grabbed a hand full of snacks which he would consume/inhale during 2^nd period.

So Dalziel’s school day happened with no occurrence, but after the school day was over, he had Frisbee practice.

This was one thing that Dalziel looked forward to. Even though he was on the B team, he was the glory player of the B team. He was known as the agile “Tiger-Ninja Man” to his coach, but to his fellow team mates he was “Sun-Sun” and “Chickadee-China”. But really, he was not often called “Chickadee-China”, this only resonated its voluptuous sound waves when this one certain Bertram “Broface” was feeling playful.

He was the “Tiger-Ninja Man” to his coach because during games he would often sprint down towards the flying disc, leap gracefully into the air and pounce on the disc slamming it into the floor where it belonged when thrown by an opposing team. Dalziel did this often enough, but only because he was on the B team, he was sure that in the higher leveled play of which Dalziel would some day reach, the disc would not be so kind as to float so slowly through the air for Dalziel to swat.

So Dalziel finished Frisbee practice uneventfully, but tired as usual. Life goes on Obla Di Obla Da.

Extremely short post in comparison to the others, but I ran out of ideas and couldn’t think of any good made-up stories worth my time and I also got home at like 7 today, but enjoy what’s there.

First Dance

I thought of one good last memoir type writing, and then I think I’ll writing pure fiction from here on out. But not to worry, I’ll still write memoir type entries whenever anything exciting happens in my life. Oh but wait… that means I won’t be writing anymore memoir type entries… =( We’ll see how my life goes. Play it day by day here Dalz….Dave…

For this story, we delve back into Dalziel younger days. No longer is he in high school pumping out the calculus and AP chem, but he is now back in junior high, living out his naïve little life to his hearts content.

It was almost summertime and Dalziel had no plans out what he was going to do with his long free time. So his mother talked to all the other Asian mothers, and tried to find some good camps for Dalziel to attend. Her search was well rewarded when this popular camp was referred by the other Asian mothers, New England Chinese Summer Youth Camp, which is now to be referred to as simply, camp.

So upon hearing this deliciously long name, Dalziel was filled with dread, “Chinese camp? What do you do? Sit in a classroom and learn Chinese all day? Hell no. I’m not going to any Chinese camp.” But after he conferred with the children of the mothers his mother had talked to, his fears were completely dispelled as they all seemed to enjoy it very much and this year would be their 3^rd year attending.

So Dalziel gladly decided that he would attend this so-called Chinese camp. When he arrived he met up with his group, all kids around his age, and he was surprised to meet his friend Jagjit. From this point on Dalziel spent his time hanging out with his group and Jagjit. He attended the classes which they had been assigned, having fun in every single one of them. And to his surprise, they were speaking very little Mandarin if any at all. This was the single greatest camp experience Dalziel had ever had!

Not only was Dalziel surrounded by other fellow Asians, but he was also surrounded by fellow female Asians as well! Now that his mom was not around to keep the “anthrax” away, Dalziel could mingle and flirt to his hearts content. His 7^th grade hormone were running wild and he quickly became close friends with every member of his camp group, everyone, not just the men, he became friend with all the females as well.

Dalziel felt as if he had finally experienced the joys of being with girls, but he was not yet ready for the thrills he was yet to experience. On the last night of the week long camp, Dalziel found himself for the 1^st time, sitting in Jagjit’s room, applying wax liberally into his hair attempting to mold his hair into the perfect shape. He was preparing himself for the end of the week dance! No matter how nervous Dalziel was, he was excited to attend such a glamorous event as he had spent all week bonding with his fellow group members, but now he could chill with some of them in a “club” environment.

The dance was everything and Dalziel had expected and more, blaring music, flashing lights, and pretty girls. The night continued on, and Dalziel kept to his circle of guys rhythmically bending their knees and bobbing their heads to the music. But lo and behold, a slow song was bound to appear on the scene, and as it did, a low sounding groan echoed across the room as the populace of the dance floor cleared off to the sides to make room for the minimal couples.

Dalziel was unfazed by the slow song as he expected that no one would ask him to dance, but being as inexperienced as he was, he did not know how extremely, extremely, ridiculously good looking he was, and he was unaware of how all the ladies went crazy over his hot bod and cute face.

Being who he was, Dalziel stood nonchalantly staring into the abyss and was extremely surprised when he saw a girl he did not know walk up to him and say, “Hi, I’m Marissa, I think you’re cute. Wanna dance?”

Dalziel, scared out of his mind, but too hormonally driven to deny such and opportunity, slipped out a quiet, “Sure…” As the song commenced, Dalziel did not know what to do, but as he was following this Marissa girl out into the dance floor, he glanced around and saw what the other meager dancers on the dance floor were doing and got an idea of what he was supposed to do. He awkwardly grabbed onto Marissa’s waist and held his arms at a 120 degree angle and slowly swayed back and forth to the music. One thing Dalziel did not catch from his quick observation was where the dancers’ eyes were placed. He had no idea where he was supposed to look, he thought that if had actually knew who this Marissa girl was, he would be looking at her, but since he did not know her, he would glance around at the other dancing couples, glance at Marissa, who also seemed to be in the same dilemma as Dalziel, and then quickly glance away at another dancing couple.

After what seemed like an endless swaying back and forth, the song finally came to an end and Marissa said, “Was that your first dance?”

“Yeah…?”

“Wow! You’re pretty good at dancing!”

“Thanks.”

“Okay bye, cutie!”

“Bye…” Dalziel slowly shifted back into his normal crowd and the night continued on and Dalziel danced with a few more girls before the night was over. At the end of the night, Dalziel feet were killing him from four straight hours of standing, occasional dances, and knee bends. He was content with his life at the moment as he had finally had his 1^st dance, not to mention the other four or five he had participated in. Dalziel would never forget this dance nor would he forget the wonderful times he had had at NECYSC. He was determined that he would return the next year, and that he did.

Year after year, Dalziel tried to attend this camp again, but finally after three years of attending, Dalziel’s mother finally realized why he loved this camp so much: he was free to interact with all the girls he wished because she was not there to keep him under her enormous gas mask and away from the girls who emitted the deadly toxins.

To this day, Dalziel has still not returned back to the wonderland of NECYSC, but he has grown up and his mom has finally realized that her gas mask no longer applies to Dalziel as he has outgrown it and she no longer keeps him away from girls. For that Dalziel is glad.

Eventfulnessless

Guys, I was serious about my running out of ideas. If you wish to see a post up everyday, as I know many of you do and I thank you for your continued interest in my writing, SUBMIT IDEAS SO I HAVE STUFF TO WRITE ABOUT!

So, before I continue with my LAST idea, I must insert this disclaimer to ease the minds of my readers…

Disclaimer: The following day did not actually happen, but it is a compilation of many snippets of days to make one big exciting day.

Now that business is taken care of, I can commence the writing!

Dalziel slowly climbed out of bed as his cell-phone alarm clock relentlessly played its “Energize” song over and over again in endless loops. He slowly turned the alarm off, headed off to the bathroom where he brushed his teeth, a habit which he had just only started a few months earlier as mentioned in the previous post. So, yes, Dalziel was actually brushing his teeth, now to skip other random boring details, he got on the bus after a small sprint as he rounded the corner to see his bus just pulling up.

So Dalziel entered school that morning, tired as always, but he was confident in his sneakiness that he would be able to sleep through his 1^st two boring and unimportant classes. During history, gladly they were watching a movie, but Dalziel’s seat placement was horrible to find a good position to sleep in. He was in the 2^nd row right in front of the teacher’s desk so he could not find the right angle in which he could position himself to hide from the teacher and sleep peacefully. Eventually, he slowly edged his desk over at a slight angle so he could place his head onto his desk and still be perfectly behind the student in the 1^st row. Dalziel was pleased with his ninja-ness and quickly fell asleep to the low droning of the boring black and white history movie.

As time passed on and Dalziel continued sleeping, he was unaware that the teacher had noticed that his hair had disappeared from his vision. Obviously since Dalziel was sleeping, he could not hear the teacher slowly walk up and sit on the side of the classroom from where he could survey the whole class. And since Dalziel sat in the 1^st column of chairs right in front of the teacher’s desk, he was in plain sight of the teacher who sat there quietly observing Dalziel’s back rise and fall rhythmically as he was fast asleep.

Then all of a sudden as if Dalziel had just been hit with a quick-attack from Pikachu, he snapped upright and rubbed the sleep away from his eyes. Then he noticed a presence behind him that was shaking, he turned around and saw his teacher sitting on the side of the room from where he could see everything and from where he had obviously seen Dalziel sleeping his class away. His teacher was stifling a chuckle, a stifled chuckle that scared the living crap out of Dalziel, he was sure his old crafty (<=someone notice the slight allusion) teacher had something horrible in store for him, but tried to hide his fear.

Then to his horror, his teacher walked back to the VCR and paused the video. With this break in class, Dalziel was sure that his teacher would do something horrid, but nothing happened except the ringing of the bell. Dalziel was saved, but as he left the room he glanced at his teacher who was chuckling to himself and looking at Dalziel with a slight glare in his eyes. Dalziel quickly walked out of his horrid history classroom and headed over to his statistics class which he thoroughly enjoyed.

His statistics teacher was a hilarious, bald man. And to accentuate his bald head, Dalziel was sure that his teacher waxed it carefully every morning. As Dalziel took his seat next to Alcaeus, his teacher walked in carrying his normal “Wisconsin” mug full of coffee, it seemed like every other day, but Dalziel was in for a surprise; a surprise much more shocking than that of his history teacher sneaking up on his sleeping body…

Okay I lied; there was no amazing surprise in Dalziel’s statistics class, but seriously. This is what happens when I run out of ideas guys. It’s boring for you to read, and slightly frustrating for me to write, but I will try to continue to in the life of Dalziel with basically no plot for your entertainment.

So the day went on, Dalziel went to Chem class, went through with the lab with the normal random discussions. Gamaliel whipped out his infamous “Ssswhhsshhhssss”s at every turn, and laughed hysterically at every single one no matter how extremely unfitting they were. For example, Tallara said, “What’s wrong with this salt?” (no she really didn’t , but I know you get it), and Gamaliel responds with a hearty, “SSSWHHSSHHHSSS! AHAHAHAHAHA LOLOLOLOLOLOL!oneone!!11!eleven!!1!!”. At this point, the rest of the lab bench just sat there watching Gamaliel laugh his silly little head off at what he thought was his own ingenuity, but really the lab bench was in awe at how hard Gamaliel tried to pull off “sswhhshhss’s” at every turn even when they don’t work.

Now we skip math class because there is no way for me to articulate the hilarious chaos that happens in Noethre’s class.

So onto Spanish. No matter how funny Sr. Davalengle was, when he got to actual class, he was boring to no end, so Dalziel often slept in his class as well. Dalziel had gone through Spanish class sleeping in plain sight many times before without incident and Sr. Davalengle seemed not to care and always seemed to only call on Dalziel while he was conscious. But this day was different, inside Sr. Davalengle’s hilarious little mind, he had developed the perfect plan to surprise Dalziel and crack a joke at the same time!

As the class went over the exercise together, Dalziel slowly drifted off, but Sr. Davalengle waited until he was sure Dalziel was fast asleep, just like Snorlax without a pokéflute on hand. Now when he was sure Dalziel was out like a light, he said, “Dalziel! Número tres, por favor!” (Dalziel! Number 3 please!), but since Dalziel was sleeping, this sound did not register in his brain. Again, Sr. Dalziel reiterated his choice in a respondent to the question, “Dalziel! Number three!” but yet again, Dalziel’s sleeping brain did not hear the sound waves emitted by his teacher. Finally on the third time, Dalziel’s brain registered the sound and sent the message quickly to his eyes to open and respond to the inquiry. He awoke and sleepily said, “Sorry. Lo ciento. Qué número?” To this Sr. Davalengle burst into dance singing, “Ohh, it’s that time of the day, where students sleep in class!” the class erupted in laughter and life went on.

Sorry for the disappointing post guys, but I’m flat out of ideas as of now. So I leave you with a link to techno music.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fCV1fv-Ef_w

The Day of Unfortunate Events.

So, guys. My idea pool is running a little low, I have enough ideas left in my head to last maybe 2-4 more days, not including today, but 2-4 days is not very long. So start posting random ideas in comments and you will see if they are used or not, you will not find out if your idea was used or not until I actually write a story and you see it posted. So if you ever think of an ingenious idea that you think that I can make interesting, please feel free to post it. The worst idea is the one you don’t suggest, so anything that comes to mind.

Now that that little announcement is over, we can continue on with the next adventure in Dalziel’s exciting, drama-filled life. Last we had left him with the lingering taste of some poopy silver nitrate in his mouth, but that had been covered up and dissolved into the large amounts of random snacks Dalziel was eating and swallowed where it would then be digested and turned into REAL poop. The taste was so unique, that Dalziel is sure that he will not forget the taste anytime soon, not until he becomes a senile old man who yells and little kids for no apparent reason.

Now, onto the story…

It was just a normal Sunday morning. Dalziel was waking up to the more melodious beeping of his new-found alarm clock with many different functions. He had moved into his brother Northrop’s room after Northrop had moved away to college. Well he hadn’t really moved into Northrop’s room by choice. When his older brother had come back home for Thanksgiving break he was bringing home some special people, and by special people I mean special to him ;D. So Mama Dalziel decided that since Northrop’s old room was only one wall away from the master bedroom that these special guests would not feel comfortable sleeping a wall away from the owners of the house. The simple solution to this problem was to move Dalziel out of his current room and into Northrop’s old room.

Dalziel was not totally against moving into what had used to be his room many, many years before. In fact, Dalziel had Northrop had switched rooms numerous times. Thus Dalziel never had to decorate his room with his own posters and other funky additions that make a room personal. Northrop, being the lazy person he was, would never take down anything from the walls of his old room, and Dalziel just inherited the decorations with no complaints.

So back to that Sunday morning: Dalziel was awakening to his new and improved alarm clock that also doubled as his cell phone and watch. He groggily shuffled into the bathroom and waited his turn to empty the liquids the night had left in his bladder. After leaving his morning’s waste its place, he shuffled back into his/Northrop’s room and decided what he was to wear that morning to Sunday service. Half-awake he picked out his nice pink striped shirt and khaki pants. Dalziel always liked looking nice on Sunday mornings, he was brought up dressing up on Sundays and there was nothing wrong with looking your best when going off to meet the one you love.

An analogy to help illustrate this belief: if one were to say, meet a special someone of the opposite sex (or the same if that’s how you swing), one would like to look his or her best. One would not want to in anyway repel this special someone by wearing pre-ripped jeans because that special someone would probably be repulsed by the fact that someone paid $100 for something that he or she had bought for $1 and worn down into the “fashionable” look after years of use. If one really wants to wear old-looking pants, you are welcome to bring any pair of new jeans to me and I will wear them for you for a few years, and I will return them to you in their full $100 glory.

So Dalziel got all dressed up for Sunday, brushed his teeth and completed all the normal morning routines that people should do. But in fact, this brushing teeth thing in the morning had only entered Dalziel’s life about a year before this dread-ridden Sunday morning. Dalziel had used to believe that brushing teeth in the morning was just something the toothpaste companies had invented to get people to use more toothpaste and this would in turn, make people buy more toothpaste as they consumed more toothpaste in a daily basis. But his views had changed after this topic of his not brushing his teeth had been insulted by someone who he held in a special light. This got Dalziel thinking more about his personal hygiene and then he realized that the tooth paste companies were not just money-hungry people looking to gyp people out of their money. Every morning when he awoke, he would feel that disgusting feeling in his mouth as if someone had just took a crap in his mouth. Unlike the silver nitrate experience of his life, his mouth actually did not taste of poop, but it felt as if someone had; there was the same textural feeling. And then ever since that fateful day, Dalziel started brushing his teeth every morning and he had one person to thank.

After the normal prep, Dalziel sat waiting in the kitchen for Northrop to finish up as he could not drive yet. As Northrop came slowly traipsing down the stairs, Ladridia went ballistic as she normally does; running around in circles, barking her little head off, but all this chaos was easily solved with a simple stomp on the floor and a menacing, “Ladridiaaa?”. So all was quiet and peaceful as Northrop and Dalziel got into the car for the normal twenty minute drive to church.

But this was no normal morning anymore... With Northrop driving, the normal twenty minutes was cut by a quarter into fifteen minutes. And also since Northrop did not feel “normal” parking in the back of the church where the English service was held, all this unnatural occurrences just because Northrop was home… All these out of the ordinary things should have tipped off Dalziel that something else out of the ordinary was bound to happen, and that’s just what he got.

Dalziel was stepping out of the car, he reached for his bible with his right hand, stepped out of the car right leg first, and then as soon as his left leg cleared the car, he began to close the door with his right hand with the bible in it. As he was doing so, his left hand was lagging behind the rest of his body and as the door came back to meet its counterpart of the car’s frame, it was so desperate to be reunited with its partner that it dragged everything in its way back to the car with it. Unfortunately for Dalziel, the pointer-finger of his left hand was in the path of the lust-driven car door and was dragged into the dark crevasses that surround the cracks of a door.

At first Dalziel thought he could just quickly slip his finger out from the crack, but unbeknownst to him, but knownst to car, his finger was jammed snugly in place with the door fully closed.

“AH! HELP! AH!”

“What!? What’d you do?”

Opening the door and quickly clutching his left finger, “CRAP! Ah… I… Just slammed my friggin’ finger in the door.”

“HAHAHA… are you serious?” looking at Dalziel’s mangled finger, “HOLY CRAP KID! YOU DID! AHAHAHA! ARE YOU OKAY?!”

“Yeah I think, it just kind of hurts…… a lot…” the blood started pooling on top of Dalziel’s finger and the two brothers rushed towards the church building for some immediate first-aid kid attention.

“Good mor - ooh that looks like it hurts, go to the office for some bandaids,” were the first words out of the morning’s welcoming usher. The two brothers then continued into the office where Dalziel quickly grabbed a tissue and held it snug over his profusely bleeding finger. Northrop was busy looking for the first aid kid and a bandaid large enough to hold all of Dalziel’s precious fruit punch with cornstarch solution inside his body.

At this point Dalziel was feeling slightly light-headed from the shock and perhaps from the blood he had lost, even though he had only lost probably a few ounces by then. He promptly sat down as Northrop continued riffling through random cabinets in search of the magical heavy netherweave bandage that would restore 3400 HP to Dalziel’s battle-ridden body. (No not really, but you get the idea.)

Finally one of the administrators of the church came around and with his experience in Chinese safety tactics, found the first aid kit in no time and Dalziel was able to properly bandage his wound and apply an excessive amount of anti-biotic. Thus, this fateful day was one that will not soon be forgotten in Dalziel’s life. To this day, his left pointer-fingernail is still not the same. Yes, it has grown back, but its normal shape and thickness has been altered with, perhaps this small deformity will be with Dalziel for the rest of his life to remind him of the hilarious yet embarrassing plights of his younger days…

Chemistry...(what type of chemistry? ;D)

Yeah, so now that Dalziel’s adventure in Jr. High land are over, we can move forward a few years and meet up with him in High School. Namely his AP Chemistry class where is completing a lab practical… Actually… due to a complaint of a die-hard fan, I am now changing all names to something that flows better with the stories, seeing as all of the names I have been using are basically randomly random names, I will try to stick with either something I make up, or just a random other name…

Ok, never mind… I just spent like 5 minutes trying to think of a different name for our main character and could not think of on that is palatable by my standards, back to my random weird sounding names that are not palatable to some certain “white boys” and by “white boys” I mean Tommy Yan… yeah, that’s right, a real name just appeared on my blog! =O

So Dalziel found himself half-sleeping, half-awake in chemistry class as he often does. Not only was it chemistry class though, by far he enjoyed his chemistry class the most, but Dalziel could not find the strength in his body, namely his eyelids, to stay awake, he would survive through class as a zombie. He would never be fully awake unless something was especially exciting, but he would never be fully asleep, except for in elective classes that do not really matter.

So there was this one incident in which Dalziel found himself being wide awake. Often times under similar circumstances he would find himself wide awake and relatively active: Lab time. Dalziel thoroughly enjoyed lab very much. Not only was his lab bench an interesting bunch to talk to, but he enjoyed the actual chemistry labs despite their academic focus. He enjoyed mixing chemicals and obtaining many different products and especially those awesome colors that are oftentimes a result of a well-done lab experiment. Dalziel was typically quite normal in his chemistry labs, following the rules closely, but still leaving enough room for him to have fun. Not wasting his effort in achieving the perfect 5.0000000mL measurement as he knew from his experiences at his dad’s office that such a precise measurement would have little to no effect on his experiment.

But this one day, Dalziel found himself in a very odd situation… instead of loosely following the rules and safety conditions of the lab procedures; he was going completely against them. He was putting these potentially dangerous chemicals… INSIDE HIS MOUTH! But of course the estrogen-infested part of his lab bench was in protest of his highly unorthodox ways, but that did not stop him; Dalziel was feeling adventurous!

So the reason Dalziel was being completely unorthodox in his actions was because of the ridiculously complex vagueness of this particular experiment. The students were given a list of 15 potential chemicals they could receive. Of these 15 they would receive 10 and would have to properly label. Some of these candidates were NaCl – table salt, C₆H₁₂0₆ – glucose (sugar), and H₂O – water. These three candidates were obviously easily distinguished by taste which is why Dalziel found some unidentified liquids and solids near his mouth.

His first taste-test had been a very effective test. He had observed the different solids they had gotten, picked out one that looked like NaCl and cautiously poured out a few crystals onto his lab book. Then out of the blue, he quickly swooped down, like an owl to its prey, and sucked up the minute crystals as if he were a vacuum cleaner. To his half-expecting tongue, the taste of salt reached his tongue, shot up to his brain and registered on his tongue and from his life’s experience he immediately registered the taste as NaCl, common table salt. Thus, the lab group had identified its first salt within a matter of seconds with no chemicals involved other than the offending NaCl and the saliva which coated Dalziel’s tongue.

The next obvious tasting candidate was either water or glucose, as all of the solids had no resemblance to glucose, so either his lab group did not have glucose in their selection of 10, or it was in solution. Dalziel and his lab partner, Gamaliel, decided to take their chances and try to find either water or glucose by taste, but the complimentary lab group, which consists of those certain people who shall remain unnamed because I do not want to find more names, objected to these “stupid” boys risking their precious tongues in search of the wily water and glucose. So Dalziel and Gamaliel decided to sit back and relax for a little while as the girls conducted their highly precise, meticulous chemistry experiments.

Then something unexpected happened; one of the girls, Tallara, was fed up with the orthodox ways of living her chemistry lab life! She finally motioned for Dalziel and Gamaliel to work their taste-bud magic and find out what the chemicals were with a simple “Can you just… you know *motion towards mouth*…”

“Hells yes!” was the hearty reply. So now, the boys had to come to a decision, there were 5 liquids left, and the girls were having trouble with two of them, who would get which test tube. Whose tongue would potentially be scarred for life? Gamaliel took his chances 1^st, with a small dab of his pinky into the test tube; he acquired the liquid ready for taste-testing. He quickly stuck his tongue out and dabbed his tongue with the slightly moist finger.

“That is not water!” exclaimed Gamaliel as he darted towards the sink for water and a paper towel. Now came Dalziel’s turn to take a shot and become the pawn in the lab group’s quest in search of the devious water and sugar… He uncorked the test tube which he had chosen, placed his finger over the top and inverted the test tube so he could obtain some liquid. He then slowly stuck out his tongue and slowly moved his finger closer to his tongue. As the liquid reached the vicinity of his nose and he could not smell anything, Dalziel was slightly reassured that he had chosen wisely and would not be scarred for life. But little did he know that the chemical on his finger would NOT taste like water, and WOULD leave a dark brown mark where it came in contact with his skin.

“Ugh! Definitely not water!” Dalziel briskly walked over to the sink and paper towels just as Gamaliel had before him. He rinsed his mouth out over and over, but the offending taste would not be cleansed! It was as if someone had taken a crap inside of his mouth and had spent the time to wipe the feces all over the inside of this mouth so it would take a long time to clean out. Dalziel dejectedly walked to his lab bench, moist paper towel applied to his tongue in an attempt to mask the taste of poop in his mouth. Despite his attempts to overpower the taste, he could not do so without food on his hands. And seeing as how he had forgotten his lunch money at home, he could not purchase any vittles to clear the taste.

Dalziel tried to continue on with lab and hoped that the taste would slowly dissipate from his mouth, but 5 minutes later, he could taste the silver nitrate as if he had just put it on his tongue. So he looked around at the rest of his lab group and asked, “Anyone have food so I can get rid of this terrible, TERRIBLE, taste?”

And it’s late now, so Dalziel got a fiber bar from his lab group and he completed the lab without placing anything else near his mouth. Oh and by the way, he was luckier than Gamaliel who tastes HCl- Hydrochloric acid.