Friday, August 04, 2006

Blogaday day 5!

Is it really day 5, or day 4? I think it's 5. I'm too lazy to check, so happy day 5!

It's getting much later than I'd like it to be. Very recently I've been endowed with the realization that I need more sleep. I've finally been feeling responsible enough to go to a bed at a decent hour when I know I've got a morning practice the next day. It's been nice though, more sleep means a healthier me. Case in point: I should have been to sleep a while ago.

I've suddenly become a little bored with writing this. I know, it's only been a paragraph. But do you ever feel like I'm writing the same thing over and over again? I sure do. Never any new writing styles, never any new news. It's all the same in the end:

  • Recap of frisbee friday
  • invitation to next frisbee friday
  • Cross country woes
  • Cross country hope for the future
  • Random thought of the day
  • "but really, things are good" paragraph
  • Some closing remarks
So there you have it. Sorta getting tired of it. Maybe it's just blogaday wearing me out. I need to think of something original, and fast. Maybe a little paint will lighten the mood.
















Sorta fun.

I was really lazy today, and that doesn't feel too great. I don't like being lazy, I like to be able to look back at a day and think of how much good stuff I did. Therefore, tomorrow I'm not going to be lazy. I'm going to go work really hard at cross country, and I'm going to get some history done. I'm going to play raging at frisbee, and not be lazy.

I went on a little bikeride by myself tonight. I really really enjoyed it. I went on the parkway, on some of the routes that we run alot as a team. It was amazing to see how fast I flew through the scenery, how quickly I got to the end. Runs that take an hour took me no time at all, it was a pretty good feeling. I went out just after sunset, so by the time I got home it was dark. The temperature was just awesome, everything looked nice, smelled nice, was nice. It was a quality ride. I'm gonna start going on more rides after practices and stuff. It's decent exercise, and it's just really relaxing. If anybody wants to come, what the heck, come along.

Why does America smoke? I don't think that we should. The world would be a much better place if the tobacco companies were all dead. Sure, it'd be a big hit to the economy, but it'd make the whole world healthier. I honestly believe that the tobacco companies are evil, I'm not going to beat around the bush. I'm sure there are some good honest people that work for them, but I'm really confident that the people on the top are evil. How else could they peddle a product that is ruining the world?

That's the next step. We've got to erradicate smoking. Little steps. Sure, smoking is a pretty big step. But really, the national guard has gotta go blow up some buildings or something. That'd make the nation's average lifespan go up 5 years. That'd make everyone smell alot nicer. We'd run faster. Our brilliant thinkers would live longer and think clearer. In all seriousness, what's the deal with smoking?

Oh right, it's ruining the world.

With no offence to smokers or whatever, don't come blow up my mailbox. Just, really, c'mon now. I don't understand it. I love my lungs. I'm never gonna smoke. I wish that our country didn't.

How about a little more paint?

















I sort of like that one. Don't know why. But it's an adventure.

So, the whole fiction thing that's been making the rounds has been pretty fun. I've enjoyed reading it. Until recently I've stayed out of it, but it's just too much fun to pass up. Last thing I wrote was of terrible quality, but I had a very good time writing it. Therefore, I'm embarking on a new little journey. I don't know how this is going to turn out. This is simply an experiment. I'm doing this for a couple reasons.

One, I've got a few more blogaday days to fill up, I need junk to fill with.

Two, heck, if I've got to write I might as well have fun with it.

Three, why not?

So here we go. Don't expect anything. But first, a disclaimer.

Most stuff sucks. Not really and all, life is still good, but most stuff just generally sucks. That's the whole idea. You can't have the good stuff without the bad stuff. What makes good writing good? Well, it's better than the bad stuff. What makes an athlete fast? he's faster than the competition.

So, most stuff sucks. When one of my friends makes something good, it's cool, and unexpected. The truth of the matter is, I expect most writing to suck.

However, everything I've read recently has been good stuff. Nick's saga has been intriguing, courtney did some really cool stuff involving chocolate, and what I've read of Jaron's was pretty accurate. To be short, I was surprised.

I exist to make them look good. Score it.

Water, day one.

Hey, I'm Paul. My name might change, it's temporary. My parents are.... weird.

I woke up this morning with a beard. A big one. For years and years I've longed for such an immaculate piece of face-decoration, and all the sudden it finally showed up. I went to bed last night looking like a pre-pubescent teen girl, and woke up a man worthy to wrestle a bear. This thing is beautiful, this thing is pimp. This thing makes me look oldschool.

Something is going on around here, something big.

Things just aren't quite right, today has been off. You know that feeling when you walk into a room, and everybody looks at you with that weird look, and all the sudden you know that they're about to tell you a family member died? That one piece of news you missed because you were at work when your aunt called? Yeah, it's not that sort of feeling.

Right now, I'm not even sure what kind of weird notion I'm getting. But there are some serious vibes out there, and my giant beard isn't getting half of the attention that it deserves.

I mean, c'mon. It's huge.

I showed up to school 8 and a half minutes late. I'm always 8 and a half minutes late. I don't know why, it's just a little more comfortable. As I walked to class, I was planning my triumphant entrance. I'd fumble with the knob for just a moment, let the class turn their heads expectantly to the door. With just the slightest pause for dramatic effect, I'd hold my breath, then rush the door open and reveal my new face-friend. There would be stares, there would be gawking, and with any luck there'd be a little bit of giggling. The plan was golden.

So I'm booking it along the hall, running my fingers through this ridiculously huge beard. Every minute I was getting prouder and prouder of this thing. For the first time since I had peed my pants in the cafeteria I was going to stand out. Things were going to be great with this beard.

The doorknob approached, my heart was beating like the drummer from the junior high band when he forgot his pills. I took a moment to calm myself, to prepare to enter into a new phase in my life. Finally I'd be respected. I'd be the only kid in school with legitimate facial hair who wasn't named Juan or Raul. I was gonna be known, respected, even feared. No more would I be obscure, no more would I sit in the back of the class to be ignored. It was time to face my destiny, to rise up and become what the fates wanted me to be. I was to burst through those doors, stare my lame and frequent bed-wetting past in the face and say to it: "Hey Jerk, I've got a beard, girls know my name. I'm through with you, I'm moving on to glorious golden pastures. Fast cars, free meals, and facial hair."

I realized then that this was a big step for me. Free meals? I didn't doubt it, a beard of this magnitude hadn't been seen in Forthwood county since 1832. My heaven-sent neck protection was going to change the way this town was run. It was going to clean up this joint. I could be mayor, I could be manager of the arctic circle. Things were about to change.

I gave the doorknob the premeditated quiver. A pause that seemed to last for eternity, and when I could stand it no more, I gave it another preliminary tease. My heartrate, erratic and unsteady as the attention-spanless percussionist shot through the roof. A deep breath.

It was time to face my destiny.

A power not my own thrust the door aside. I was bathed with the glorious shimmer of the florescent light tubes that adorned the chemistry room. Framed in the doorway I stood, my sleek beard sending dazzling reflections on the walls. I needed no bling, for I was bling incarnate. There I was, prepared to lead my people to freedom. To deliver the oppressed, to rise up and ascend the throne. I was graceful, I was strong, I was steady. My pose was impeccable, my entrance flawless.

The dull thud of oak door on rubber stopper echoed through the silent classroom. With a stunning flick I turned my head from it's heavenward pose to inspect my soon to be subjects. I knew that once they saw the new me, they'd fall in love instantly. Heck, I knew that I had. This beard had a hold of me, it was all I thought about. They'd respect and fear this beard, it'd be revered. That's why things are fishy today, because what happened next just really blows.

Perhaps it was a trick of the light, perhaps the world just wasn't ready for me and my beauty. I turned, and they weren't even looking. They were like, staring at their desks. Doing stuff, or something, I don't even know. And I'm there, in the doorway, and at this point my beard is honestly blowing in the wind. How cool is that? Can your facial hair blow in the wind? No. Just no, don't even try, cause it's too cool for you. I was brilliant, I swear I was glowing. My beard was giving off rays of excellence and awesome power. And there they were, oblivious.

I cleared my throat, trying to mask my obvious dissappointment and frustration. Who just ignores an awesome beard-man anyways? This is high school, nobody has a raging beard! This was going to change their lives! It was going to finally set their priorities straight, set their focus on what's really important; me and my beard.

They remained as they were, eyes on their desks. No recognition, no glory. No cheers? not even a gasp, a giggle? Nothing. Today was just like every other day, it was like they didn't even see me.

And that's why things are fishy. Because good crap, I've got a raging beard, and nobody has given me their number yet. No girls have swooned over this raging chunk of stone cold keratin. No sophomores offered to be my sidekick. Even the weird kid who always sits by himself at lunch didn't notice when I sat down next to him and purposely got my hair in his food. Nothing.

Man, this town is screwed up. Something big is going down, and I'm gonna find out what it is. The whole system is screwed up this morning. Vibes? Up the wazoo! Nobody paying attention to the new facial improvements? Hello, that's crazy talk. This whole place is messed.

/sob.

-Paul

Haha, that was fun. To be continued tomorrow. Score it!



2 comments:

Holy_Roman_Nick said...

Well, that was good, it definitely doesn't make me look good, but I'm gonna be critical, because it's exactly what you're not about my writing. That was pretty good, for someone who's never done descriptive writing (besides CC stuff and frisbee) before. Just a few things. You used a little too much Utah slang for it to be accessible to everyone, and although I realize it wasn't your goal to make it accessible to everyone, keep that in mind for the future. For another thing, you wrote way too much like you talk. I mean, nobody thinks like that. I don't. You probably (maybe) don't. People think in simple, yet sarcastic, terms. Next time I update, read the text in italic. In case you didn't catch it already, that's the protagonist's thoughts. Well, I'm done for now. Here's a summary haiku if you don't want to read that really long paragraph.

In short, that was good
In long, you need some more skills
Keep writing, man-beard

Corky Marie said...

wow, thatcher. you make me laugh. that's an awesome story. very sarcastic. i like sarcastic.