I Was a Gullible Child

A Youtuber I've been watching recently did a show based on what they used to believe. I thought it was an interesting idea, so I'm going to some the same thing.

1) When I went to the dentist, I thought that cavities were little bugs or germs that ate your teeth. I had no idea that cavity meant a hole.

2) Now I must have known this before, but yesterday I just realized that there are 31 days in July. I thought the months went 30-31-30, and because August has 31 days, I automatically thought July had 30. Since then I've been taught the knuckle trick, where the knuckle is a month with 31 days, and the groove between the knuckles is a month with 30 or less days. However, I've managed to convince half the people at work that there are 30 days in July...

3) When I was younger, my aunt gave my sister and I some of her old toys. One of them was a barbie that had hair that grew. All you had to do was turn a little dial on her back. There wasn't much left when my sister and I got it, but we thought it was endless. So we cut all the hair off. Later, I tried to do the same with all my other barbies, thinking that their hair would grow back. It didn't.

4) Because my dad used to play Hockey, for some reason I got it into my mind that he played professionally. I asked him once if I would see him on TV, and the said that he would be on very late at night. So that night, when I was at a sleepover at my friends' house, I told them that we had to stay up late to watch my dad play hockey. Of course, we had no idea what channel or what time, and we probably fell asleep early.

5) I also believed my dad was part of the Beatles. He was a huge Beatles fan, and when I was really young he would sing 'Close Your Eyes' (might not be the title of the song, I can't quite remember it). It was also around this time I would go around the house singing the chorus for 'Yellow Submarine'. All day. Every day. I'm now realizing that I was not only gullible, but very annoying...


The ironic thing is, I can remember the point when I realized Santa wasn't real. I was probably around seven or so, and I was playing with the doll house I got for Christmas. I think it was in the summer, so probably about six months after I got the doll house. Then it suddenly dawned on me I had actually watched my dad make part of this doll house. Now I didn't think that my dad was Santa, or worked for Santa. As far as I can remember, I just kind of thought 'hey... Santa didn't give me this.' Then again, I could have been traumatized and just repressed the memory...

But for the record, I never believed in the Easter Bunny. My dad had tried to claim he saw it once, but I just laughed at him... I did believe in the Tooth Fairy though, and I still find it amazing, and kind of disturbing, that my parents could reach under my pillow to take the tooth and place a coin without me waking up. Imagine if it was a murderer?

A Choice

After over a week of being divided between the two schools, I think I've made a choice.

Kwantlen and UBC both have their merits and downfalls, of course. They're both difficult to get to, though Kwantlen seems to be a little easier. UBC is prestigious, but for a creative writing major, does that really matter? There are writers that never went to post secondary for writing, and have done fairly well. So the actual course doesn't matter all that much, and that's pretty much the only thing that was drawing me toward UBC.

There has just been so many complications with UBC. First is the $250 fee to accept their acceptance. Then I would have to take at least one class in the fall or winter semester to stay as a new applicant at the school. This makes sense, but I would have to pay for a winter class now, rather than later. I cannot afford that now, as I just paid off my tuition for one class at Douglas, and UBC is much more expensive. Not to mention there are very few classes that are open now that I'm interested in. I think there was one Latin class, but it was three days a week for one hour. It feels like such a waste to go all the way into Vancouver for one hour every day, when the commute one way will take twice as long.

So as you might have guessed, I've picked Kwantlen. My mom has already told me that she's okay if I don't go to UBC, but I tink my dad will be kind of disappointed. But I'm not going to pay an outrageous amount of money for a degree at UBC that I can get at Kwantlen for a lower price. Not to mention I don't have to pay for my winter semester at Kwantlen now. I can't even sign up for Winter courses there until later. It's much more like my current college, so the transition will be easier.

Not as Boring as I thought

As I'm going through my school conundrum, I've been having some people offer their own opinion by response to one of my posts. You know what this means? People other than my friends and family are reading my blog! I feel accomplished.

And while we're on this topic (sort of), I would like to introduce one of my friends who has been having much more fame through her blog and Deviantart account. Meet Vanessa Wong, an amazing artist and make up enthusiast, who has recently celebrated having 400 watchers on Deviantart. On her Deviantart page you can see her amazing artistic ability. She's recently started getting into digital drawing, and so far everything looks fantastic.

Although she hasn't post much on her blog, what she has done is very entertaining and enlightening, most specifically in the field of make up. And, much like me, she enjoys Legend of Zelda and other similar video games, which she'll talk about from time to time.

And to all my readers, if you have a blog that you want me to read, just leave a comment. I can't read it if I can't find it, right?

Digging a Little Deeper

As I mentioned on Monday, I have a copy of the first story I began to write. Actually, it's the second copy, the first is still in my little black notebook, which I also have, and may share later. Anyway, bear in mind this was started probably at least eight years ago...

Vivid green eyes stared into their exact double. They blinked at the same time, their eyelids drooped simultaneously and snapped back open without a pause. When two rain drops slithered over one set of eyes, the other pair shifted their gaze to the tousled up golden hair. The reflected eyes followed. With a sigh of annoyance, Arica pursed her light pink lips. Rain pounded down on the window, speckling her reflection, her only companion in the small carriage, aside from her cousin. Lightning burst from the dark rain clouds, followed closely by a loud peel of thunder, accompanied by her cousin's loud snore. With a roll of her eyes, Arica threw her pillow at him.

            “Damien, shut up that racket!” She hissed and bent down to scoop up the pillow. When she glanced back at Damien, his green eyes were open and staring at her.

            “You know, you're not exactly a silent sleeper either.” He commented before shifting in his seat in a vain attempt to find a comfortable position on the rock hard carriage seats. After a few seconds of squirming around, he settled down with his back to Arica. The snoring started up soon after. Sighing again, Arica placed her pillow under her head. She closed her eyes and her reflection copied without hesitation.

            Darkness engulfed Arica as she looked around wildly. Where was she?  Slowly shapes emerged, trees, boulders, grass, a brilliant red… sky? She looked up into the slow swirling flames. No heat emitted from them, not a wisp of smoke or the crackle of flames. Wind swirled around Arica, whipping her hair around.

“Hello…” It seemed to say in a breezy voice.

“Who are you!” Arica called into the air. No reply. She started to call again when the world started to shake. Trees crashed down, dirt was flung everywhere and the sky, so calm before, seemed to rage to life. A tree fell down close to Arica, sending another toppling over, right onto her. Her scream caught in her throat as branches covered her like a hard and prickly blanket.

A Glimpse at the Past

I didn't forget this time! I just kind of procrastinated... Anyway, I'm tired, so I'm going to treat you to the first several paragraphs of a novel I had started years ago. You should know that I've scrapped this version and started working on a newer one not too long ago (Okay, a couple years ago...), but it's always fun to go back and look at what I used to be. I have stuff from even farther back, but that's even more embarrassing.

            Thick black smoke curled around the floor just outside a large wooden door, followed a few seconds later by a loud bang. A serving girl scurried past, apparently not all that surprised by the explosion. The door slammed open, and a young man stumbled out, coughing hard. The smoke settled on everything it touched, forming a thick layer of soot. Another serving lady appeared around the corner, holding a wet towel in her hands.

            “For you, my lord.” She said quietly, and then hurried off once the man had taken the cloth. With a sigh, he scrubbed his face clean.

            The young man had dark brown hair, just long enough to brush his shoulders, without having to be pulled back. His dark blue eyes were red from lack of sleep, and no doubt from the black dust flying around, and his clothes could have come from a wealthy merchant, with a plain white shirt embroidered at the cuffs and collar, and brown tight fitting breeches, with even more embroidery.

            “Again?” An amused voice asked from down the hall.

            “I just can’t seem to get it right, father.” The younger man said in a resigned tone. “Everything I try, it blows up or does nothing. Every combination I can think of. It just does not work.”

            “Don't give up, Tanlar; I'm sure you will get it soon.” The older man, Lord Eiad, patted Tanlar on the back and gave him a joyful smile.

            “But it’s hopeless! I have been trying and trying for over a year now. Nothing I try has worked!” Tanlar threw the towel onto the ground, where an unseen servant hurried to pick it up. Already there were maids running around the two men, cleaning the walls and floor from the black dust.

            “You know you can’t say that!” Lord Eiad said growled as he let his anger get the better of him. Tanlar pursed his lips and looked pointedly at the mess around him with a raised eyebrow.

            “Fine, I will work on it for one more month, if I haven't finished anything by then, I will give up.” Without waiting for a reply from his father, Tanlar stormed off back into the room, slamming the door shut behind him and raising another small cloud of black dust.

Happy List

I did it again, I'm sorry. I have a terrible memory. Today I'm going to a co-worker's baby sower though, so I don't have time now to write anything new. Not too long ago though I answered a few writing prompts, so I'll just post those for today.

Make a list of everything that makes you happy now

-A pleasantly warm day followed by a cool night

-Getting off work when the sun is still shining

-Being in enough shape to walk up a hill without wheezing for breath by the top

-When the radio at work plays good music for once

-Getting all my plans for school in order

-Having those plans disrupted upon finding out I’ve been accepted into UBC

-Organizing my book shelf to accommodate new books

-Finally getting better at driving standard (soon I’ll be able to drive on hills!)

-Wasting a whole day playing video or computer games

-New movies showing up on Netflix that I would actually watch

-Knowing that The Hobbit: Part 2 is coming out this year

-Re-watching Lord of the Rings for the hundredth time

-The sound of rain (even if it is just the sprinkler)

-Finding out I’ve earn 86 cents of interest after six months of having a tax free savings account

-The anticipation of reading a good book

-Fantasizing about the creation of a Wheel of Time movie

-The thought of having one class when school starts (and being able to meet new people)

-Earning more money than I spend

-Being able to sleep under a duvet rather than a sheet

-Remembering that I’m having my second piece published in the Douglas Anthology

-Imagining that my dreams of becoming a writer will come true (even better if I become famous)

-Waking up to find that my dreams of being late for work are only dreams

I feel uneasy about…

My future. I think it’s a fairly common thing to feel uneasy about. It’s one of the few things we cannot predict accurately. No matter how much we plan and work to make everything perfect, all it takes is one small change and everything will crumble. I’ve taken a dangerous path for my future, a path that requires me to overcome obstacles that I’ve put there myself. I might have help starting this climb, but near the end it’s all on me. I cannot rely on anyone to push me forward or pull me up, though on occasion someone might extent a helping hand when I fall to the ground. I could have taken an easier path, but where’s the fun in that? Why should I take the gentle slope when I can climb a cliff? Sure, I might fall and break some bones, but when I get to the top, the achievement is that much more important. I could never bring myself to work a job I hate, sitting at a desk all day answering phones and typing e-mails. Even if it means sitting at a desk all day typing words that I may not even use. It’s the end that matters, that little light at the end of the tunnel that I will reach for when in the middle of the gloom. No matter if that light is a sputtering candle or the brilliance of the sun, at least it’s something.

What is your favourite taste and why? What memories does it evoke?

As a very picky eater, this isn’t very hard, though it is rather ironic. I favourite taste would have to be chocolate mousse, despite the fact that I’m not a big fan of chocolate. I don’t eat it in chunks, such as in solid bars of chocolate, or Smarties or M&Ms. I do love it in ice cream form though, but mostly as chocolate mousse. It’s very light and fluffy, and doesn’t feel like I need to be eating it with something to wash it down with. Mostly I love it because my grandma used to make it from scratch. She would buy a massive block of chocolate, and make a whole bowl of it when we had family dinners. Even if I was stuffed from dinner, I would always have at least two platefuls of her chocolate mousse. It’s one of the things I miss about her; her amazing cooking (especially with sweets and desserts). I haven’t had chocolate mousse in ages, as the only way I know how to make it is from a box, and it’s just not the same. Maybe someday I’ll root out a homemade recipe.

I feel helpless when…

There is a spider or bee near me.

Alright, in all seriousness, when someone is sad. I have no idea how to comfort people. My best cure is to make people laugh, and sometimes that’s not appreciated. I understand that sometimes people just have to be sad, such as when they’ve lost a loved one, and cracking jokes to make them smile is just wrong. But I don’t know what else to do. I’m a naturally happy person, and when I am sad, I suck it up and put on a smile. But obviously you cannot tell someone to just ‘suck it up’ after their grandma has died. So what do I do? I guess I could give a hug, but that makes me awkward, and still doesn’t do much. Hugs aren’t as magical as they’re portrayed in movies. I hate talking it out, because often I can’t relate to why someone is being sad, and I just end up nodding and agreeing. Oddly enough, people still come to me to talk about it. I suppose it’s because I like to rant, so they think I’ll be good to chat with? I cannot solve relationship problems; I’ve never even been in a relationship. I cannot do anything when a loved one has died, and I can’t bring back friends who have moved away. So what is there to do?

My Adventures Working at Starbucks

Normally I don't talk about work, because a lot of things can be misconstrued and taken in a bad way, but today I'm going to write an amused list of everything that has happened to me in the last couple days.

1) Yesterday, around 10:00 am, I sliced my pinkie finger on our tape dispenser. It was about to fall, but I managed to successfully, if painfully, catch it. The teeth where the tape is ripped cut my finger though. When my manager returned from whatever she was doing, I held up my finger and calmly stated "I think I might need a band-aid." (By this point the bleeding had stopped, and it's been perfectly fine since)

2) I started today thinking it was Tuesday. I was looking around at all the date stickers, and couldn't figure out why there were so many Monday stickers, and why those products that not been thrown away. I would quickly remember that it was Monday, but a few minutes later would forget, and get confused all over again.

3) Later today, while making a drink, I was pumping raspberry syrup. As is often the case, it splashed up and out of the cup. I didn't think it was too bad until I started to make a drink on the espresso machine a few minutes later, to find drops of raspberry syrup on the machine. The syrup is about five or six feet away from the espresso machine...

4) Not long after the syrup incident, I was making a fresh pot of coffee. While trying to put the bin of coffee filters away, I managed to hit myself in the face, thus knocking my glasses off, which fell into the garbage can. I promptly burst out in laugher and nearly began crying.

5) I got home a little after 11:00 am, and realized I managed to get raspberry syrup in my hair. When I got changed, I found raspberry syrup on my chest, where my shirt was covering the skin. The saddest part is that I only made two drinks with raspberry syrup today, and now it's showing up everywhere.

Needless to say, I'll be happy to get some more sleep tonight. Maybe I'll be a little less clumsy wen I work on Wednesday.

A Fork in the Road

As most people my age will understand, I've been having a lot of questions and debating about school. More specifically, what school. I've been going to a small community college for the past two years, since it's really close to my house. Unfortunately, I can't get past my second year in my creative writing degree there, so I have to transfer to a university. Lucky there are plenty of universities around here, but that just brings up the problem of too many options.

I've limited it down to two universities, both of which are a fair distance away and will require a lot of transit. The first one is a very high quality and very expensive university. It's also the one my mom went to, so naturally she's pushing me toward that option. The university is called UBC, and it has a fairly good creative writing program.

The second university is Kwantlen, and has only recently been upgraded to university status, so it's less expensive and easier to get into. It also happens to be directly related to the program at my current college, so it would be easier to finish my degree there.

I applied to both, just in case, and I heard back very quickly from Kwantlen. It was accepted pretty much because of the connection between the two schools. I would have to finish off a couple courses in my second year before going into my third though.

Then tonight, right after getting home from work, I found an e-mail from UBC saying that I've been accepted! It says that I've been accepted into the bachelors of arts program, but I'm not sure if that means that creative writing program, as I'm supposed to send in portfolio to be review, which I didn't do because I was waiting to be accepted into the university.

Now I just have to chose. Kwantlen is less expensive, but a degree from UBC is just worth so much more. Then again, how much is a creative writing degree really worth? Writing isn't all about learning, there has to be natural skill, which a school cannot provide. Either way, I'm going back to my college for one class in the fall, so that I can get my associates. By this point, I'm considering taking the winter semester off to work, and to try and figure out where to go.

If anyone has any opinions, please speak them! I'm terrible at making choices.

Distractions

Dang it, I got distracted by Youtube videos and forgot it was Wednesday. Today it was a ton of Lord of the Rings out takes and bloopers. Very entertaining. However, I also worked the opening shift at work, and later went to the eye doctor. So guess what! Time for a rant!

I've been really excited to go to the eye doctor lately, because my eye sight gets continually worse every year. I thought I was at -7 already, but it ends up I'm only at -6.25. That's still pretty bad though! Now I've been meaning to get a pair of prescription sunglasses for a long time, but I've never had the money or time... or effort. Today, right after getting home, I went straight to Clearly Contacts to look for sunglasses. I found some nice pairs for a good price, but for some reason it wouldn't let me get them at sunglasses. So my mom and I called them to see what was up. Ends up I am too blind for sunglasses. That's right. My eyesight is so bad, they will not make lenses strong enough for sunglasses. I can get regular glasses, but there is something with sunglasses. The sad part is, I'm sure that part of the reason why I'm so blind is because I have not worn sunglasses for years. Probably for at least six years, maybe more.
So I'll head over to Costco when I have time and see if they have anything inexpensive there. I'll probably end up spending about $200 on a pair of sunglasses though, since I need them prescription.

And now the second part! I may have mentioned this before in another rant, but I really hate how people with glasses are portrayed in movies and TV shows. If we lose our glasses, we do not walk around like zombies, with our hands out in front of us to make sure we don't run into anything. We can still see blurs, and a blur will generally mean there is something in front of us. We may say we're blind, but we can still see well enough to know the difference between a hallway and a damned wall. Now on the other hand, if we drop our glasses in something with a lot of texture, such as dirt, then yes, we probably will have to grope around to find them. (depending on how bad our eye sight is, and how well our glasses blend in with the ground) Normally we would be smart enough to know the general area where they dropped though, and will not stand up to look for them, therefore stepping on them. It's like people with glasses are portrayed as the smart ones, and the second the glasses fall off, they lose all common sense.

And now, I need sleep. I've had way too much sugar and not enough sleep...

Halloween in... July?

Sorry for missing the Friday update (right after I had commended myself for barely missing any updates). We had family over on Friday and Saturday, not to mention it was my friend's birthday party on Saturday night. So it's been a little hectic... And I'm forgetful. And since I'm being lazy today, I'm just going to post a very small short story that I had written for a spooky story contest. It's really not that scary, since I would probably give myself night mares if I actually tried to write a scary story...

“You, over there. Yes, you. Come here.”

A young woman hesitantly walked over to one of the bright tents of the travelling circus, a spindly young man standing in the doorway wearing a grin.

“You’re the fortune teller?” She asked upon catching a glimpse of the inside of the tent.

“I am indeed. I can see into the catacombs of your mind and life. Would you like a peek?” He stepped back into the tent, holding the door flap open for her.  Inside were jars filled with small, dead animals, floating in a sickly liquid that made them look only asleep. The scent of herbs and spices barely overpowered the smell of death.

“Now now, what an interesting future you have.” He purred as he circled around her. “So many possibilities, so jumbled in such a short time.” He reached forward and made as if to pluck something from her head. He stretched it out like a string and investigated the invisible thread. “Such a bad choice. Oh no no no, you should not have come.” He looked up from his reading, the light casting odd shadows over his face and turning him into a living revenant. With one quick motion, he snatched up her hand, tracing with one long finger each line on her palm. “So short, so short. Faded like a dream…” He trailed off into silence, then looked down at her, a malicious smile creeping over his lips. “What is your name?”

“Abigale.”

“Well Miss Abigale. Welcome to our show. Would you care to join it?”

“I don’t think I would make a very good carny.” She stated nervously.

“Oh, no need for that. We have a wonderful display of phantasms. So lifelike, almost as if they were real humans.”

“I think I would rather go home.”

“Oh but the show is about to start.” He grinned and pulled back the door of the tent.

Off in the direction of the big tent, a blood curling scream rang throughout the circus.

“They call me The Jinx. My fortunes are not very fortunate.”

Update!

I meant to post this like, 200 views ago, but happy 2,000 views! It's been almost a year since I've started this blog, and I'm just surprised that I've managed to keep to my three post a week schedule (mostly). I know that many of the views are probably people stumbling over the blog and moving on, but I also know that a lot of friends and family read many of my posts, so I'm really happy that I have not bored all of you yet. Hopefully I'll keep up with the entertainment, and maybe direct more of my focus toward writing instead of rambling. However, I've learned that posting stories and poems online means that I've published them, so to preserve the first publishing rights of any future publishers, I'm going to stop posting most of my writing. I will try to get writing exercises up still, like the ones I've been doing, along with any poems or stories I know I will not be trying to publish, such as the one about my grandma.

So yeah, that's just a brief catch up and thank you for everyone. Now I'm off to visit my grandma (the live one).

Happy Birthday, Canada!

Alright, belated birthday. I didn't even turn my laptop on until about ten minutes ago. I've barely been in the house today, and any time I have been home, I've been downstairs, away from my laptop, where it's cooler. Because summer finally arrived. So instead of doing a Character Conversation, I'll do a list!

Why I Love Canada (tacky, I know.)

1) We love to make fun of ourselves by mocking how polite we are. It's a good thing! I would much rather be a polite but submissive person than some arrogant ass hole.

2) We're known for our friendliness, rather than our moronic leaders, overweight and dim witted citizens and history of violence. *coughamericacough* Sorry, that was uncalled for... some moronic leaders, a couple handfulls of overweight and dim witted citizens and action movie violence.

3) it's beautiful. All I have to do is walk for  few minutes and I'm in the forest. A lot of people aren't so lucky, but most cities in Canada (or at least BC) make some effort to provide green space, even if it's a park in the middle of high rises and office buildings.

4) Everyone loves us... Okay, that's probably a hyperbole, but it's true to an extent. When you go travelling, if you're showing off a Canadian Flag, then people are more likely to be friendly to you. I guess this goes alone with being known for our friendliness.

5) Everything is so diverse. I guess technically everyone is an immigrant, even the first nations. But you look around now, and there are so many new immigrants, and new cultures. There are so many that these groups of cultures have pretty much become Canada. (Again, at least in BC. I cannot speak for anywhere else) There isn't really one specific culture that's considered Canadian. There are stereotypes, of course, but that's not a culture.

6) The weather is so neutral... Okay, it was... Kind of. There were thunderstorms, but at least I could sleep! Now it's summer, and the heat is unbearable. (It's like, 25 degrees or something...) I cannot image living in a climate that stays this hot for half the year or longer. I must be one of the only people that would be more than happy to live in a more northern climate to get away from summer.

7) Poutine. Nuff said.


And now I'm tired, so although there is more I could say, I'm going to head off to bed.