(no subject)

Kids today, huh? I'm kind of intrigued how the country will keep running once we run out of people who know what they're doing. Likely as not, it won't, at least, not as well. China or some such will overtake us as the dominant world power, and we'll degrade into something akin to a flag-waving Europe.

Nothing I can do there. What I can fix is cleaning up my landfill of a room. I seem to have an inability to keep it clean while it's not located in a far-off dorm. Must be that education thing I'm hearing so much about. Side-effect, or some such. Or maybe the forced social interactions. Yeah, that's probably it, I think.

It's amazing who you run into on the street these days. Seems I can barely go outside without running into and old highschool buddy, or similiar. And they're all going to CSU, it seems. How perplexing is that? I didn't know I had that magnetic personality. Eh, they know where I live. 806, Westfall. Bring a bottle, we'll party.

Oh, some -real- angst. I'm turning 21 in about 4 months, and was so looking forward to boozing it up in my room, with the door open. Turns out the school's revoked that policy, and I can't get my drink on in the dorms.

Well, shit. I'll just have to close my door. Idiots.

  • Current Mood
    apathetic apathetic

(no subject)

Well, it seems as though college is starting to rear it's ugly head once more. Would-be students across the nation are giving it an off-hand glance, and a sneer, before returning to whatever it is normal college kids do during the summer. I haven't got a clue. Perhaps they drink themselves to death. You know, as a warmup.

As well, I'm starting to glance over my shoulder, out my window, half-expecting to see Education itself float by, eyeing me. Then again, I stay up too late every night as it is, so things I see shouldn't be taken to seriously. I've got a few loose ends to work on, and those same old lingering doubts that take pleasure in devouring my insides. Just like everybody else. I should be fine.

I think about it, and I can't find any distance, and oddly, nor any famiiliarity with college, in my first year, at least. It was just so out of my league, and beyond my experience, that I was left looking somewhat startled, and bemused, when it was over. Along the lines of 'what the hell what that?! Did you see that? Whoa.. I mean, it was all.. yeah! You know what I'm talking about, right? It was unreal!'. Essentially a bad acid trip, but without the wonderful world of blue shapes. No worries, I'm just working on speculation with the acid thing.

Last thing I said, as the elevator doors closed, albeit slowly, was 'Hey, Melissa? Read my journal?'. From what I heard later from my old roommate, she took it home with her. Small place called Craig, upstate. Wouldn't really be that far a drive, I suppose. Then again, me and driving to meet people doesn't seem to happen. It's probably not all to blame on my jeep, either. Probably should get the stickers on that thing updated.. Where's my sharpie..

I totally missed the point of that last paragraph. Suffice it to say, I'm rather antsy about the whole upcoming year. Sure, I've been around the block once already, and seen the mistakes that you can make that first year. I'll likely be the oldest, wisest ass on the floor. I hope the RA asks me for some words of wisdom. Things like 'Don't fuck anyone the first week.' and 'Go to class, even if you don't think you need to' will be paramount, I think. Maybe just 'Don't drink in the halls.. for awhile.'

You know what those bastards did? They took away the 21 and older privilage of drinking in their dormrooms, the very year I was turning 21. Bah, humbug. Guess I'll just have to cope, and drink without hanging a sign on my door saying 'We're Boozin!'.

Let's get a little angst out about women.. what the hell is the matter with me? Girls start talking about lingerie, and antsyness from their perspective, and I go all to pieces. At least when nobody's looking. You'd be proud, dear journal, if you saw me feigning a look of intellectualism while the air force chiqa showed me way, way too many pairs of underwear. I mean.. yee gods.

~rubs eyes~ It's early, and I've been grazed by that 'productivity' bug.. The one that made your parents occasionally clean the whole house, or some crap like that. I did a bit of laundry earlier, though I shouldn't have stopped there. It'll hit me again soon, and I'll shave, and get my lazy ass a haircut, soon.

I wonder how different they'll all look.. or how different I will.

  • Current Mood
    anxious anxious

(no subject)

You know what's great about these journals? It gives me the ability to say what I want, how I want.. And it feels like I'm still talking to myself. That's one of my bigger faults, getting out my true feelings, and this is certainly a useful medium for it. The mentality around journals being private, secret things just allows me to speak as I see it, without worry of others reading.

Even though they do. Yet it still works, so huzzah?

Current events? I know everyones' dying to hear about my day, and what happened, and if Sharyl is really having Don's baby, even while she's got amnesia. Let's get it all organized in my feeble brain..

..Hrmm.. alrighty. The Cabin.

I went into the thing totally unprepared, naturally, getting about three hours of sleep the night prior, before I was carted off into the deep hills. If you can find a place called "Kremmeling" in Colorado, you're close to that out of the way garden spot. The road in has names like 'Upper Valley', and 'Hell Hill', and such interesting, rock-laden jeep trails such as that. We didn't even get there until quite late, after we spent most of the day buying essentials. Bread, meat, eggs, chainsaws. The four main foodgroups.

My little brother has hit that "I'm independent, I don't need help" stage, which I think you go through twice. First at four, then at fourteen. Damnable evolution just amounts to a headache to me. He looks up to me for some reason I can't fathom, so I blame genetics again. I'm definitely not the greatest role model in existance. Sure, I don't smoke, don't drug out, don't skip school.. but if he emulates me, he'll find himself a lonely, sorrowful person in the end. S'where I'm headed, anyway.

Foreboding aside, we got through the mountain towns without being kidnapped by hermits, and went through gate after gate to reach the domicle. My grandfather doesn't stinch when he builds. The cabin's about thirty years old as I understand it, and could probably take a meteor collision. Even if the world around it was destroyed. Yes, a cabin floating in space, forever. Damn thing's probably airtight, for all I know.

We had to get the water turned on, of course. (Oh, of COURSE!) So we strolled through the pitch blackness, and found the supply, a steel barrel driven into the dirt next to a stream. The ground around it was filled with gravel, so we got some nice filtration, even. It was bone-dry, of course. We spent awhile moving rocks and diverting the stream nearby, which like everything water-based around here, was getting low. We passed the reservoir that supplies Denver earlier that day. It reminded me of the Grand Canyon. The water was so low, islands in the middle of the lake were now just a walk through damp sand from shore. Sobering image.

I had to climb down into that damn well to get the right pipes covered and uncovered (Can't leave them open during the winter, or they crack with ice in them). Ancient spiders and a single cinderblock in the black muck at the bottom were my companions, before I could finally lift myself out. We diverted the stream with some creative moving of rocks, and dirt, and moved on to the next disaster.

The propane tank. Really only needed them for light, heat, and the stove, of course, but.. well, I like my luxuries. I had seen 'Gone in 60 Seconds', so I was a bit wary about messing with the thing. It turned out there was alot of air in the piping, so nothing turned on until we left the gas on awhile. I kept getting images of the cabin's roof lifting off in a fiery eruption, but no such luck. Bedtime, finally.

The next morning, I had far too many eggs, hashbrowns, and bacon. I didn't get to cook, something I accel at, on occasion, but no complaints. I didn't really need SIX eggs, though. Gah.

Down to business, we broke out the new toy, a heavy duty chainsaw with a 20' blade (Size does matter, apparantly). I learned more about them then I would need to, barring a string of messy murders, but I gained a newfound respect for Ash, Housewares.

Woodchips flew everywhere, ants came boiling out of rotted wood, and we likely scared a few fish in the nearby river. Some beavers in that river had had their dam destroyed by some errant hillbillys, a few years earlier. They had built another one in nearly the same spot, we discovered. I was pleasantly amused. I'm actually quite handy with a 'saw, apparantly, as I went through a downed tree easily enough. Logs for the campfire were easily dispatched, and I went to tackle a nearby stump.

God, what a bad idea that was. Hard, dry wood met me, along with an ant nest near the base. Three cuts were all I needed, but I had to refill the gas and chain oil twice before that thing went down. Lunchtime, and the heat was getting bad.

So what do we do? Go after this tall, leaning tree, right next to the cabin. Unlikely it'd fall in the next hundred years, but it was more then mostly dead anyway, and looked unsightly. Triangle cut on the side I wanted it to fall on, and I handed the 'saw to my younger sibling, with a 'you gonna cut this thing down or not'? I -try- to be a good older brother sometimes.

He went for a straight horizontal cut, and the weight of the tree suddenly came down on the chainsaw blade. He tried to rev the thing again, but I avoided that disaster by turning the thing off. We tried pushing the tree over, but no such luck. Our spare chainsaw came into play, then, and we managed to get the weight off the big one long enough to extract it.

We pushed that thing down with the jeep's front bumper, as I recall. It just did NOT want to fall. Made a god awful racket when it fell over, too. Branches everywhere. At least I was in the jeep when it went.

We made it out reasonably early, all of us exhausted, and back to the city. It'd started raining, which was bad, considering our way out's namesake of 'Hell Hill'. When that thing is dry, it's still greasy. When it's wet, you can't even stand up on it. So we booked it. I didn't forget my keys, at least.

Back to the world of showers, relaxation, and no fucking mesquitos. Back into AODrama, the annoyance that seems to never go away. I sort of wish people would learn that, in the online world, this rule applies: 'If you want someone to not exist, just ignore them.' Catch-all solution, isn't it? I would make it the rule, but naturally, noone listens to the guy with the goofy alias.

College looms.

  • Current Mood
    blank blank

(no subject)

Family life, once more. Apparantly I'm to be snatched away for some indeterminant amount of time, to go repair barbed-wire fencing out in the middle of nowhere. My grandfather's cabin needs some cleaning, considering it hasn't been vaccuumed since it was constructed, and the cowboys nextdoor to the property cut the fences to let their meat makers graze on his land. We do have gates, but apparantly inbreeding is rampant in the hills. I'm debating a warning shot the next time they pull that, but somehow, they still give hicks dynamite. I like the cabin too much.

Trip wires and claymore mines, now there's an idea..

  • Current Music
    Mario Piu - Communication

(no subject)

Well, that was very nearly religious. I'd forgotten what it was like to sweat that much.

I declined to eat this morning, as I'd learnt my lesson of the other session. So I went into the heavily crowded dojo with a case of nerves and a bellyful of water. All in all, probably not the worst thing I could have had.

Helluvalot of folks there that day. Even the instructor I saw fight at the tournament I attended, early summer. The guy's half a hand shorter then me, but I saw him flip a man onto his own face with nothing but his legs. Very impressive.

We went through the blocks, kicks, and punches, methodically and repeating as needed. Our warmup pushups, crunches, and jumping jacks were all repeated a bit, as we did things incorrectly. "Heads up!" "Together!", and the like. People made mistakes, were touched on the shoulder, and down they went for more pushups. The instructors told us that if we made a mistake, to make it look like we hadn't. Maybe four seconds later, in a defensive motion (#6), I stepped on the asst. instructors' foot. Apparantly he didn't notice. Lucky me.

The higher-ups filed out, and began doing all sorts of strenous things outside, giving us newbies more room. We went through the 8 blocks, our punches, kicks, and kempos. Apparantly my 'Kya!' suffices, as I heard no complaints. Probably scared some kids, as I tend to get that faraway, intense look when I'm concentrating. I'd like to think I was quite menacing.

Finally, dripping sweat from face, arms, hands, chest, we were told to meditate, eyes closed. It was easy to lose track of time with all the endorphins running through my system, and my breathing was under control, soon. We sat a long while, before they began calling names, then questions. "What is one of the principles of Shaolin?" "Dragon", or "Leopard", or "Snake", and the like. Much sense of motion around me as the instructors moved silently.

Finally, from the front.. "With your eyes still closed.. if you feel you have earned the right to your next level, remove your belt, fold it in three, and put it behind you."

This rather threw me for a loop, and I was slow in thought as, being me, I attempted to weigh my successes vs, say, stepping on the sensei's foot. Finally, as I heard a flurry of belts being undone around me, I undid my own. It's difficult to fold when you have your eyes closed. Finally it was silent again.

"Open your eyes."

A certificate of achievement, and a folded yellow belt lay in front of me.

"Take the belt, wipe it over your forehead, and tie it around your waist."

Completed quickly enough, I settled back onto my heels, listening intently. Those guys can intimidate, I will admit. We rose, were congratulated (I shook Super Sensei's hand.. wow.), and then dismissed.

Hell of a day, considering a cop tailgated me to the dojo, and my license stickers were still out of date. Stupid jeep.

  • Current Mood
    exhausted exhausted

(no subject)

So you think your bad day was pretty respectable? Well, siddown, junior, let me enlighten you.

I wake up at the crack of noon, the evening prior spent lounging online, doing little more productive then crash my computer trying to play my graphics-heavy game, or look at scantily-clad women prance around in mpegs. Truly unproductive, and a waste of valuable resources, namely my time and energy.

Groggy from the get go, mumbled words of the day prior come back to me, in the form of 'go to karate at 7'. Sounds fine to me, I'm beginning to like the practice. Very relaxing, and focusing, to stare at yourself while you go 'HAI!' at.. yourself.

Shower, shave, manage to look somewhat human.. grab some chow which was provided by loving sibling, who would drive to Safeway to buy an extra toothbrush right now. The amusement that is teenage drivers. I gobbled down a burger, fooled about chatting online, then went to practice.

Wander in, there's maybe fifteen people in various get ups. Only the instructor, myself, an' one other newbie are in white, as apparantly black is popular. Hell, it's always popular.

We bow to the flag on the wall, then to the sensei, then each other, and sit down to meditate. Feelin' good, enjoying the vibes, all that Zen stuff I hear so much about. I could meditate on a subway, on New Years.

Then sensei says those amusing words to her cohort, who grins at us. 'Warmup! Jumping jacks!'

Okay, we're good. Jumping jacks I can do. Twenty-five, easy.


Hah, bring it on, man! OneTwoThreeFourFiveSix...TwentyFourTwentyFive! YAH!


Grf! Grf! Grf! Grf! Grf! Grf! ....YEAH!

"Frog jumps!"

Hah.. hah? Touch the ground, jump as high as you can, then touch the ground, high as you can.

One.. Two.. Three.. grk.. gak.. grkkk.. gaaaahhh.. etc, etc.

Whew. Got through that.


Oh, fuck.


Thus the evening progressed, predictably, until finally we'd finished. I'd jostled myself into a sweaty frenzy, and by the time we'd finished, inside of ten minutes, I was blinking rapidly, and breathing hard through my nose. We got down into low knee bends, and look, the room's getting a bit shaky. Wow.

As I recollect, the guy next to me glanced over, and muttered if I was alright. I said 'fine', and fell over.

Woke to the sound of aerobic-type music, and the sensei peering at me critically. I made it outside to the curb before I started vomiting my fast food into the gutter out front, as they'd just cleaned their carpets, and I didn't want to get my uniform all messed up anyway.

So, there's Q, lying on the wet paving of the sidewalk, in the fetal position, as the rain comes thundering down, the disturbingly reddish gunk drooling from his lips, and nose.

But he kept his uniform clean!

..Driving back home was a pain in the ass, however.

My sibling's suggestion of ordering pizza didn't get a standing ovation, either, upon my return.

  • Current Mood
    nauseated nauseated

(no subject)

No whiny, self-centered bastion of internet paranoia and mindless hostility can compare to the antics of one's younger sibling, out in public.

This has been your moment of Zen.