I really just needed to share this picture. It was on one of AOL's news centers. If you just glance at it...
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
scandal
I really just needed to share this picture. It was on one of AOL's news centers. If you just glance at it...
oh, what are men to rocks and mounains?
The woods were amazing monday. After every rain a mist would settle just below the brambles. It was spectacular. 60 degees in Febuary, wow. What a wonderful gift is a warm day in winter.
Monday, February 18, 2008
The Great Catsby
While reading The Great Gatsby for school my friend, Abigail, decided her next pet will be named Gatsby. I think it's a wonderful name for a dog, it will be the name of my first dog. While discussing this we caught the attention of my English teacher who revealed to us that she, and several other english teachers, also feel Gatsby is the perfect name for a dog. I wonder what such a creature would look like? The instumental Airedale of the novel? Well "undoubtedly there was an Airedale concerned in it somewhere, though its feet were startlingly white," still "a dog that'll never bother you with catching cold." We could stick to the "Great" adjective and go with Great Dane. Maybe a poodle, mixed with something ordinary, lik a pug. Pugapoo?
Thursday, February 7, 2008
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Album cover (yay, it finally uploaded!)
Go to……
1. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Special:Random The first article title on the page is the name of your band.
2. http://www.quotationspage.com/random.php33 The last four words of the very last quote is the title of your album.
3. http://www.flickr.com/explore/interesting/7days The third picture, no matter what it is, will be your album cover.
4. Use your graphics program of choice to throw them together, and post the result as a comment in this post.
(Don’t forget to follow the Terms of Use at Flickr and provide a link back to the page at Flickr.)
http://www.flickr.com/photos/76226776@N00/2211191563/
Sunday, January 20, 2008
S.O.S. v1.4: Of Secrets and Sliderules
sorry...
Dear Marc,
Upon finding this, you must have found that it occupies the place of your now missing sliderule. I apologize for taking it, along with various other items among your belongings. I've neglected the favor of making you a list simply because I am not sure what i will need on my journey. I travel south to a place you may well know. Actually, it is thanks to you that I will now be enrolled in school as Marc Redstone the Second. I appreciate all you have taught me these few years. You have done me many services, but I need to ask you for one more. My father will be distressed at my disappearance. I must ask you to send word to him that I have eloped. That prospect will make him very happy as well as keep you and Mammy out of trouble. Tell him it was a rich handsome gentleman like he always wanted for his only daughter. You might even suggest it was by your friendship I came to know this gentleman of repute. This might finally sway father to sponsor you in your dream of moving west. I hope to see you again, but as for now know that you have sponsored my dreams; Marc's, rather my, studies begin in two weeks. Forever in your debt, and forever your friend. -Dot
"That's it!" said Marc when he finished? "You can't just ride off like usual and make me pick up the slack!"
Dot faltered at his uncharacteristic agressiveness.
"I at least deserve a better explanation, or one last conversation, you owe me that much Dot... there is so much I've been wanting to talk about with you.." said Marc, falling back into his usual submissiveness.
Dear Marc,
Upon finding this, you must have found that it occupies the place of your now missing sliderule. I apologize for taking it, along with various other items among your belongings. I've neglected the favor of making you a list simply because I am not sure what i will need on my journey. I travel south to a place you may well know. Actually, it is thanks to you that I will now be enrolled in school as Marc Redstone the Second. I appreciate all you have taught me these few years. You have done me many services, but I need to ask you for one more. My father will be distressed at my disappearance. I must ask you to send word to him that I have eloped. That prospect will make him very happy as well as keep you and Mammy out of trouble. Tell him it was a rich handsome gentleman like he always wanted for his only daughter. You might even suggest it was by your friendship I came to know this gentleman of repute. This might finally sway father to sponsor you in your dream of moving west. I hope to see you again, but as for now know that you have sponsored my dreams; Marc's, rather my, studies begin in two weeks. Forever in your debt, and forever your friend. -Dot
"That's it!" said Marc when he finished? "You can't just ride off like usual and make me pick up the slack!"
Dot faltered at his uncharacteristic agressiveness.
"I at least deserve a better explanation, or one last conversation, you owe me that much Dot... there is so much I've been wanting to talk about with you.." said Marc, falling back into his usual submissiveness.
Sunday, January 13, 2008
S.O.S. v1.3
I'm terribly sorry, this is a historical soap opera ;). I have seen and held an actual sliderule. I must qualify as an archiologist now. Research has suggested that the ancient people, engineerious computerlous, might have worn them on their belt loops around their habitat of college campus.
Unfortunatly for Marc, though Dot had once dreamed of the place she found herself now, that dream had long since been replaced by those of real and substantial value. Being a quick girl, she decided she should give him back his sliderule-and that is what Marc found as he leaned forward. Dot regained her balance and finished her pillage while marc remained, once again, debilitated. "Are you going to let me have the sliderule?" she asked, or do I need to steal one?"Coming out of his stupour, Marc could only ask why she needed one to begin with. Gaining momentum, he sent a biraid of questions at her, not pausing for answers. Lacking the enthusiasm to counter his attack, she merely handed him the note she had written for him hours earlier.
Unfortunatly for Marc, though Dot had once dreamed of the place she found herself now, that dream had long since been replaced by those of real and substantial value. Being a quick girl, she decided she should give him back his sliderule-and that is what Marc found as he leaned forward. Dot regained her balance and finished her pillage while marc remained, once again, debilitated. "Are you going to let me have the sliderule?" she asked, or do I need to steal one?"Coming out of his stupour, Marc could only ask why she needed one to begin with. Gaining momentum, he sent a biraid of questions at her, not pausing for answers. Lacking the enthusiasm to counter his attack, she merely handed him the note she had written for him hours earlier.
S.O.S. v1.2
I think I get it now! No soap, radio!
Holding the shovel high above his head, Marc crept towards the young man invading his room. He was flitting about, stuffing things into a bag. Flitting he thought, just like Dot. His walk too, just like Dot's. His arms slender, just like Dot's. His thoughts carried on in this little red ridding hood fashion for sometime and he suddenly found himself behind the intruder undetected. To his credit things eventually clicked: for at the moment he should have struck, he realized that it was in fact, Dot. However, to his detriment it took the terrified look in her eyes as she turned to see him poised for attack to bring comprehension to his face.
"yo, y , d, sh, ah..." he spluttered ending in a whimper. Realizing that her life was not actually in danger, Dot ignored him. Marc only commenced coherent communication when Dot picked up his sliderule. "Not that" he said rushing to reclaim his most cherished possession. As they tussled for the implement Marc's superior grip slackened for he found himself in the place he had been dreaming about for weeks, a few breaths aways from Dot's lips.
Holding the shovel high above his head, Marc crept towards the young man invading his room. He was flitting about, stuffing things into a bag. Flitting he thought, just like Dot. His walk too, just like Dot's. His arms slender, just like Dot's. His thoughts carried on in this little red ridding hood fashion for sometime and he suddenly found himself behind the intruder undetected. To his credit things eventually clicked: for at the moment he should have struck, he realized that it was in fact, Dot. However, to his detriment it took the terrified look in her eyes as she turned to see him poised for attack to bring comprehension to his face.
"yo, y , d, sh, ah..." he spluttered ending in a whimper. Realizing that her life was not actually in danger, Dot ignored him. Marc only commenced coherent communication when Dot picked up his sliderule. "Not that" he said rushing to reclaim his most cherished possession. As they tussled for the implement Marc's superior grip slackened for he found himself in the place he had been dreaming about for weeks, a few breaths aways from Dot's lips.
Sunday, January 6, 2008
S.O.S.
I can proudly say I don't watch soap operas (including battlestar galactica) and therefore have no idea what one actually sounds like. This is more like a story in installments. Rest assured it will probably never be completed.
She felt the face that had haunted her everywhere the light reflected: still flat, ordinary, masculine and dirty. This face that had held her back so long was now her ticket to a new life. With that inspiration her hands dropped to the knife and lifted the cold handle to her jaw. Bracing herself, she pictured the quick slash that would lead to a new identity. Over and over again her mind saw hair cascading to the floor in a glorious stream, heralding her arrival at independence. Counting to three she tried it for real. The knife slipped and fell to the ground, narrowly avoiding her hand. Trying again, hot with embarrassment she started sawing away. As smooth as it looked, her hair still would not cut like butter. Thoughts of inadequacy crept in the space left by this blunder. Knowing she couldn't finish out this day if she didn't believe it was possible, she chased them away and focused on the task at hand. Sitting in Papoo's study formulating a plan, Dorothy had known this seemingly trivial step would be difficult. Sitting here hacking at her most prized possession with no guidance but the rippling reflection given by the stream she realized she hadn't known at all. Even through her tears she felt a growing sense of freedom. With every stroke she was moving. Moving towards freedom, moving from safety, moving towards apathy, moving from the superficial, moving towards the future, moving from the past.
She felt the face that had haunted her everywhere the light reflected: still flat, ordinary, masculine and dirty. This face that had held her back so long was now her ticket to a new life. With that inspiration her hands dropped to the knife and lifted the cold handle to her jaw. Bracing herself, she pictured the quick slash that would lead to a new identity. Over and over again her mind saw hair cascading to the floor in a glorious stream, heralding her arrival at independence. Counting to three she tried it for real. The knife slipped and fell to the ground, narrowly avoiding her hand. Trying again, hot with embarrassment she started sawing away. As smooth as it looked, her hair still would not cut like butter. Thoughts of inadequacy crept in the space left by this blunder. Knowing she couldn't finish out this day if she didn't believe it was possible, she chased them away and focused on the task at hand. Sitting in Papoo's study formulating a plan, Dorothy had known this seemingly trivial step would be difficult. Sitting here hacking at her most prized possession with no guidance but the rippling reflection given by the stream she realized she hadn't known at all. Even through her tears she felt a growing sense of freedom. With every stroke she was moving. Moving towards freedom, moving from safety, moving towards apathy, moving from the superficial, moving towards the future, moving from the past.
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