An Addiction?

I've used the word, "Mayhaps" at least 4 dozen times in the last three days. Is this wrong?

Electric Light Awesome

Does nobody listen to ELO anymore? I brought up their song "Telephone Line" last night in a conversation with friends and acquaintances. Nobody had a clue what I was talking about. Has my generation no appreciation for the mellow electronic pop of the late 70's?

Mystery Solved

I discovered, through careful, meticulous detective work, that the pillows belong to my old roommate. I of course suspected him initially, but he denied it. Finally, when confronted with evidence to the contrary. He recanted. He is currently repaying his debt to society. The pillows will enter the witness protection program.

Mystery

Someone left a bag of pillows in my apartment. I don't know who they belong to, only that there are two pillows, each with a different pillowcase, in a blue nylon bag. Did they appear out of nowhere? Are they relics of a an alternate timeline which has bled into ours? Did a time traveler leap into our time only to leave his pillows, necessary for time travel, in my apartment? Who can say?

An Error

I realize that this may bring me some enemies, particularly among those of you who are Red Lobster fanboys (and fangirls), but I don't like seafood. I just don't. It's gross. So,you can imagine my dismay when I opened up my cabinet this day to find that instead of the delicious soup I thought I had purchased, I had inadvertently bought a can of clam chowder. My dismay was palpable. I don't know why anyone would want to palpate dismay, but it would have been possible in that moment. Stupid clams and their stupid chowder...

Spicy Food Can Answer Many Questions

If you're ever in doubt, throw a pepper in the air. If it fails to come down, you have gone mad, so don't trust in anything.

- Gregory Maguire, "Mirror Mirror"

Illumination

My lamp broke the other day. First, it blew the circuit in my room. Then, I replaced the light bulb. The lamp then proceeded to make a disturbing number of popping and sizzling sounds. I disposed of the lamp, and bought a new one just like it, but grey, instead of the original's white color. The old lamp now lies dead on my floor. I'm wondering if I should have a funeral for it. I'm not sure who would be an appropriate speaker, though. Thomas Edison is dead, so maybe I'll have someone speak from behind a picture of him. I don't think it would be appropriate for the new lamp to be there, though.

The Past

I sometimes wonder why I wasn't born in the 19th century. I would have been great as some sort of idle member of the British gentry. I could have lived off of investments worry-free and spent the bulk of my time pillaging archaeological treasures from other countries. The Tromphlin wing of the British Museum, anyone? Although I probably would have died of cholera before the age of 30, so maybe it's a good thing that I'm here and now. I'll just have to do my pillaging somewhere else.

The Eleventh Month

I'm never sure how to feel about November. I get nothing from it other than a sense of blandness. It's not threatening like say, April, (cruelest month, anyone?) but still, unsettling. Maybe it's because November itself doesn't know if it belongs to Fall or Winter. Or maybe a pilgrim killed my favorite childhood pet.

Ghoulish

In honor of Halloween, I'm listening to songs like "Witchy Woman,"
"Werewolves of London," and "Dead Man's Party." Rock on, friends, rock on.

A Disconnect

There's something I realized today in my fiction workshop. I used to pride myself on writing dialogue, and I'm not bad at it especially for comedy, but when I write fiction, I've discovered that I do much better leaving dialogue out completely. That's probably why I can't write comedic fiction.

The Future Is Clear

Yesterday, a bunch of people thought I was sick and sent me nice notes and even a bowl of soup. Today, I woke up with a cold. Apparently, I've somehow fallen out of the normal time stream. Again. Dang.

Precipitation

I love rain. I'm hearing it fall outside my window right now. Awesome. also, when it rains, it's not hot outside. Anything that makes it not hot is fine by me.

Haunted

So, we spent most of Saturday filming some scenes for our movie in the old Utah County Jail. When we first got there, it was creepy enough and when we weren't working, we spent some time wandering through the place. I can't say that I've ever been in a real life haunted building before, but a Provo police officer who we were using as an extra in the movie told us that the building had had a morgue in it at one point and that when it was a jail, the prisoners always used to complain of strange and frightening things. Needless to say, I was loving it. When we finished filming, we took one of the cameras and walked through the place with only a tiny flashlight and our cell phone lights. The footage is hard to see, but maybe we picked up some good stuff. Charan did find a mysterious toy in one of the rooms that freaked us out. Aside from that, the only ghostly experience was when Joel, Charan and I had a dead bird appear out of nowhere in the room we were investigating.

The Knife Thrower

So, I just read this short story collection. I really wish I could write this well. I was really impressed, especially with the story about the man whose friend marries a frog. Great, great stuff.

Missing History

So, for a class, I'm supposed to write a story detailing a missing part of the life of some historical figure. I'm thinking that I'll do something about Karl Marx, but I'm not sure what I want to write about. Karl Marx didn't go on many adventures. Maybe I'll write something about him getting food caught in his beard.

Writer's Block

Right now, I should be working on a screenplay. Yet, I am not.

Pants

I got a late birthday gift yesterday. It was a book about pants. "Fascinating!" You say. Yes, yes it is.

Caps And More Caps

I'm Going To Capitalize The First Letter Of Every Word In This Post. Why, You Ask? I'll Tell You. For Spite.

I Didn't Sleep Well Last Night

I think Shakespeare knows what he's talking about.


Sleep that knits up the ravelled sleeve of care
The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath
Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course,
Chief nourisher in life's feast.
- William Shakespeare, Macbeth

The Things We Do For Spite

I was thinking today of all the things in my life that I do or don't do simply because I don't want to give another person the satisfaction of seeing me doing or not doing them. But in the end, doesn't the other person control the outcome, even if they don't intend to? Probably. Yet at the same time, spite can be lots of fun.

Dream Writing

I apparently wrote a script while I was asleep last night. When I woke up, I had an idea in my head that I wrote down before I did anything else. People tell me that it's pretty good. I'm kind of weirded out by the whole thing, but who can argue with results?

Art

I miss painting. I used to paint and do a lot of visual art in High School. However, it's been a long time since I was in High School. I think sometimes of going and buying some oil paints and just going at it, but I don't know what I would paint anymore. Sadness.

Flemish Delight

I've never been to Belgium. Granted, I've never been anywhere else in Europe either, but when I tell people that I've never been to Belgium, it fools them into thinking that I perhaps have my own sinister reasons for not going there.

I Have Been Snubbed

...by the following celebrities:
Donny Osmond*
Michael J. Nelson
Bill Corbett



*To be fair, Donny gave me a high five today, so I don't know if he counts anymore.

The Penguin Wasn't Mentioned in the Epilogue

“Courage is like a large fluffy pillow. If you tear it to pieces, you’ll see that it was nothing but a bunch of feathers.” – Donald Gladstone III

Tales

I like fairy tales. They're just a lot of fun.

Ouch

I burned my hand earlier. The story behind it is complicated, yet not at all interesting. My brother, who used to live with me before he got married, decided that proper cleaning of a George Foreman Grill involved scraping large portions of the teflon off. That leads us to today, where I find the chicken that I am grilling stuck to the grill. Using a knife and fork that I had set aside for the prying of chicken from grills, I managed to pry the top part up, with a few shreds of charred meat clinging to it. As I wrestled with the chicken stuck to the bottom part, I pushed the grill against the wall and knocked the top part down on top of my hand, burning me. It hurts, but not a lot.

How to start...

I'm never that good at beginnings. Sometimes I start and then don't finish. Other times, I don't like the beginning that I've made, so I go back and make a new one. This would be perfect if I were a video game character. I'm not though. Also, does anybody really remember the beginning of anything? By the time the end comes, the beginning has been defined by the end and the middle. Maybe a good beginning can only work without a middle or an end.