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.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
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Unfortunatly for Marc, though Dot had once dreamed of the place she found herself now, that dream had long since been replaced by those of real and substantial value.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.
Friday, December 21, 2007
10 random things (meme)
10 random things about myself- that you might know
1) I think the most pleasnt sound is falling rain and the most pleasnt silence is falling snow.
2) I suck at runescape
3) I love imaginary numbers; 4i is my favorite. (and by love, i mean very bizarre and very very strong attatchement)
4) Never broken a bone- I drink my milk!
5) I love to wear the color red.
6) The colors yellow green and orange are perfect together(usually)
7) My nailpolish is currenly an interesting shade of turqouise. I was told it was such a nice color that it detracted from the derivitives on the board. I was also told that same day, that my moving hands resembled beetles, those gigantic blue-green ones from the summer.
8) On the subject of colors, I hate the phrase Roy-g-biv
9) On the subject of the rainbow, I am very sad we are moving past that chapter in physics
10) On the subject of physics, I am about to shoot myself. (not really)
I tag all who read this.
1) I think the most pleasnt sound is falling rain and the most pleasnt silence is falling snow.
2) I suck at runescape
3) I love imaginary numbers; 4i is my favorite. (and by love, i mean very bizarre and very very strong attatchement)
4) Never broken a bone- I drink my milk!
5) I love to wear the color red.
6) The colors yellow green and orange are perfect together(usually)
7) My nailpolish is currenly an interesting shade of turqouise. I was told it was such a nice color that it detracted from the derivitives on the board. I was also told that same day, that my moving hands resembled beetles, those gigantic blue-green ones from the summer.
8) On the subject of colors, I hate the phrase Roy-g-biv
9) On the subject of the rainbow, I am very sad we are moving past that chapter in physics
10) On the subject of physics, I am about to shoot myself. (not really)
I tag all who read this.
Friday, December 14, 2007
T.V. show
AS a child I was only allowed to watch PBS. As a teenybopper I rebelled and watched every piece of worthless programing. As a teenageer I enjoy to watch PBS. There are so many wonderful characters and shows from that station, that the challenge of picking one seemed impossible. I think though, there really is no contest, nothing can beat MAGIC SCHOOL BUS. Every thing about that show is absolutly amazing. The chacters were my friends growing up. I am convinced this show completely molded my life. It can unviel the joys of science to someone who can't even say "photosynthesis" yet. Even the theme song rocks! yes- most definatly time to take a ride on the magic school bus.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
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