Last night I turned to the local ABC channel.
It was black. It was five till eight and the channel was black. I sat there and stared at the black TV for awhile till my husband walked in and asked, "Why aren't you watching Lost?"
"I am watching Lost. This is what Time Warner thinks Lost looks like tonight."
He got down on his knees and tried to get the TV on the basic, not the digital, but still black. He went into the bedroom and discovered that channels 4-12 were all black. He came back into the living room and told me this.
"Yeah, when one of them is black, all the local channels are black," I said, still staring at the black TV.
This has happened before, where the local channels all go black. It usually happens in the morning, for a few hours or something, but in the mornings it is just sort of annoying. Last night it was HIGHLY ANNOYING because it was DURING PRIME TIME and I could not WATCH LOST. This upset me greatly and today I looked into getting a dish. There is not much choice in the dirt hole, but in all honesty, I have NEVER in my life had TV channels just go blank for hours at a time. The other annoying thing that the digital Time Warner cable does is that for unknown reasons it will freeze and skip during shows. I was trying to watch FX this afternoon and every five seconds the picture and sound will freeze and turn all to that pixel and then freeze and skip. This is annoying. A land based cable should not do this. Back before I entered the dirt hole it never did this. The dish would do this before it would go out, as in when a plane flew over or a thunder storm showed up. However, the dishes don't seem to do that here, one lack of huge planes and lack of thunderstorms.
I just have to figure out a new internet company, as I have a feeling if I cancel the cable, they'll screw me for internet. Stupid Time Warner.
On a better note, I made cranberry-strawberry bread and I put too much ginger in it. It's interesting.
29 January 2009
28 January 2009
Still Behind Bars With Frizzy Hair
When I was called for jury duty two years ago and realized I had no idea what the state of the world's affairs were, I promised myself I would try to keep up on the news. And for about a year I did really well. Lately, I've been slacking mostly because most news bores me or depresses me, like it always has. I feel safe in my dirt hole from the big bad jury duty call.
But today, I felt guilty and I was wondering if Conrad had used it get out of free jail card as of yet, or if he had failed to get one.
He failed to get one.
So he's still rotting away in prison. When I read this, it made me happy in a vindictive sort of way. As I went back to the main news page and began scrolling, I notices this story: Ashlee Simpson: Stop Talking About Jessica's Weight.
Huh?
After reading the story and going through the pictures that got the "story" started, I was like, "Dude, she made a bad clothes decision. I stick would look fat in that outfit. God. Get a life media."
The only reason it caught my eye was due to the fact that I wrote about how yesterday Jessica stole my drive.
I've been looking at other people's wedding pictures as of late as well. It is something that I should not do for various reasons, one being I am beginning to not like the batch of pictures I had and I wish I had done more poses with my husband. Just the two of us. We only have two pictures, and he is not smiling in either one. Also, due to the rain of the day and the indecision of my father, my hair looked awful that day. I had taken a shower, then went to blow dry it and just as I finished and it was a HUGE puff ball, my mom was like, "We're not doing the family shots, let's go eat." And I was like, "I HAVE PUFF BALL HAIR! AND IT IS RAINING! I NEED TO GET THIS HAIR STRAIGHT AND FLAT!" She said, "Whatever. let's go."
So I put my hair in a pony tail and left. Two hours later, we had to do the family shots, so it was still in a pony tail. I tried to fix it for the wedding, but it was a lost cause. No matter what I tried to do, nothing worked. The curls I tried to put in wouldn't hold, and the ends looked stringy in a lot of the pictures and I keep thinking, "God, why didn't i just put my hair up?"
Thus, I should not look at pictures, but I do. I find them so easily as well. I am not sure how, because I am never actually looking for them, but I still seem to find them. There are times I wished I had taken the whole picture thing more serious, paid more attention to what was going on, but I let my father handle it for the most part. And when we met with the photographer, I felt okay and didn't think later I'd be sitting around thinking, "God, did I spend any time next to my husband at our wedding?" I also remember thinking when I looked through the picture the first time that some were missing because I remember certain shots the guy had gotten and thinking, "oh, good. I'm glad I'll have a picture of that."
Those all seemed to be missing. The pictures arrived later than promised. I was let down by that and then some of the quality, like the graininess of all the ceremony shots. Also, when I was trying to create a little montage movie of the pictures, when I loaded them onto my old mac, they became even gainer and horrible. I wasn't sure why and I cried a lot. I am not sure what went wrong and when. I loved working with the photographer and his work on his website is still beautiful. He helped make my wedding day the special day that I remember in my head....there are just pictures lacking to represent this head pictures, as in my head my hair looked great and I was beautiful. There are very few times in my life I've felt truly beautiful. I think its happened three times in my whole life. Each time due to my husband.
But today, I felt guilty and I was wondering if Conrad had used it get out of free jail card as of yet, or if he had failed to get one.
He failed to get one.
So he's still rotting away in prison. When I read this, it made me happy in a vindictive sort of way. As I went back to the main news page and began scrolling, I notices this story: Ashlee Simpson: Stop Talking About Jessica's Weight.
Huh?
After reading the story and going through the pictures that got the "story" started, I was like, "Dude, she made a bad clothes decision. I stick would look fat in that outfit. God. Get a life media."
The only reason it caught my eye was due to the fact that I wrote about how yesterday Jessica stole my drive.
I've been looking at other people's wedding pictures as of late as well. It is something that I should not do for various reasons, one being I am beginning to not like the batch of pictures I had and I wish I had done more poses with my husband. Just the two of us. We only have two pictures, and he is not smiling in either one. Also, due to the rain of the day and the indecision of my father, my hair looked awful that day. I had taken a shower, then went to blow dry it and just as I finished and it was a HUGE puff ball, my mom was like, "We're not doing the family shots, let's go eat." And I was like, "I HAVE PUFF BALL HAIR! AND IT IS RAINING! I NEED TO GET THIS HAIR STRAIGHT AND FLAT!" She said, "Whatever. let's go."
So I put my hair in a pony tail and left. Two hours later, we had to do the family shots, so it was still in a pony tail. I tried to fix it for the wedding, but it was a lost cause. No matter what I tried to do, nothing worked. The curls I tried to put in wouldn't hold, and the ends looked stringy in a lot of the pictures and I keep thinking, "God, why didn't i just put my hair up?"
Thus, I should not look at pictures, but I do. I find them so easily as well. I am not sure how, because I am never actually looking for them, but I still seem to find them. There are times I wished I had taken the whole picture thing more serious, paid more attention to what was going on, but I let my father handle it for the most part. And when we met with the photographer, I felt okay and didn't think later I'd be sitting around thinking, "God, did I spend any time next to my husband at our wedding?" I also remember thinking when I looked through the picture the first time that some were missing because I remember certain shots the guy had gotten and thinking, "oh, good. I'm glad I'll have a picture of that."
Those all seemed to be missing. The pictures arrived later than promised. I was let down by that and then some of the quality, like the graininess of all the ceremony shots. Also, when I was trying to create a little montage movie of the pictures, when I loaded them onto my old mac, they became even gainer and horrible. I wasn't sure why and I cried a lot. I am not sure what went wrong and when. I loved working with the photographer and his work on his website is still beautiful. He helped make my wedding day the special day that I remember in my head....there are just pictures lacking to represent this head pictures, as in my head my hair looked great and I was beautiful. There are very few times in my life I've felt truly beautiful. I think its happened three times in my whole life. Each time due to my husband.
27 January 2009
Jessica Simpson stole my drive
From the time I was about 12, I operated under the assumption that I was going to be something. I was never sure what the hell I was going to be, but I knew I was going to do great things and be famous. From 12 until 19, I was sure of this. I was very sure. I would plot out how I was going to do this in my journal. By the time I as 16, I assumed my writing would make me big and something.
I have no idea when I saw the VH1 show "Driven: Jessica Simpson." I remember I was sitting near the window in the family room in the chair near a table. And, tragically, I realized something about myself that would hinder in my ablity to become something big. What was this? Well, ambition and drive. I lacked those qualities in myself. I knew this, as I watched the show about how driven Jessica Simpson was to become a famous singer. I knew, I had none of that drive to do anything with my writing.
However, I still operated under the assumption that my time would come and fame would find me, or at least a publisher. After watching "Driven," I figured I would meet someone who would take me places at Beloit, because I was led to believe that important people came and went to Beloit, people with connection.
They do not. Or at least I failed to find anyone like that. I was unable to do anything really worth while professionally while I was at Beloit. I tried, do not get me wrong. I applied to a ton of internships all four years of college. I never got past the first interview. I always figured this was due to my lack of ambition and drive and one could simply tell that by my voice.
At Beloit, I also lost that assumption I'd grow up to be something big and successful. Everyone it seemed at Beloit wanted to be a writer, or something having to do with writing. Many of these people wrote better than me and they had that ambiton and drive in them to do something. I lacked that. I was sitting at my desk freshman year when I realized that I had been operating under an assumption for years that wasn't true. I wasn't going anywhere, I was not the girl going places like I had been led to believe by myself and others. I bounced from one profession to another while I was at Beloit. I arrived thinking I wanted to be a writer, then I wanted to be a lawyer, then I thought I'd try marketing and finally, by the time I was a junior I gave up trying to figure out what I wanted to be. I just knew what I did not want to be. I became listless and less driven for anything than I had been before. Everyone around me knew what they wanted to be: screen writer, dig in the dirt and find stuff, editor, puppeteer, art historian, pilot, teacher. What did I want to be?
I wanted to be Ed Whitacre. Yeah, you read that right. It was one of those random decisions I made my senior year to get people off my back about what I wanted to do with my future. The answer "I don't know" does not seem to fly when you are a senior in college and not planning to go to grad school. I took it so far to come up with a plan to become Ed Whitacre, which included a year of bumming around New Zealand. However, my mom did not like this idea in the least because it included working any sort of job for a year and then leaving. She reminded of health insurance and student loans and proceeded to crush the idea of ever becoming the CEO of AT&T. Not that I seriously thought this was a goal of mine. I lack drive and ambition, two things all CEOs have.
I graduated from Beloit with an expensive piece of paper that was in reality rather useless for anything I wanted to do. I tried to find a marketing job, they were all sales jobs in disguse. After three months of "job hunting" I gave up trying to find a good paying job that I'd like. I just wanted a job, so that was how I ended up being, for lack of name, an Administrative Assistant. This made me sort of sad because in the back of my head I still had all these allusions of gradure and Administrative Assistant didn't sound to me like a job title I really wanted (though, my job title was really Informational Servies Assistant). The job bore me at times, and after I left the job and went to do actual Admin work, I was still pretty bored most of the time.
I still have no idea what I want to do. I do not think I ever will know what I will want to do with myself. There are days this doesn't bother me at all, then there are days where it annoys the crap out of me because there is that little part of my brian that still believes I need to be someone big, famous, and influential.
But, in the end, Jessica Simpson stole my drive.
Now, do not get me wrong. I am happy in my life for the most part. I've got a great, annoying, cute dog and a great husband who I love. I wouldn't trade being famous for any of it. I wouldn't even trade fame for leaving the dirt hole. It is just that sometimes I wish I knew what to do with myself once I left this dirt hole.
I have no idea when I saw the VH1 show "Driven: Jessica Simpson." I remember I was sitting near the window in the family room in the chair near a table. And, tragically, I realized something about myself that would hinder in my ablity to become something big. What was this? Well, ambition and drive. I lacked those qualities in myself. I knew this, as I watched the show about how driven Jessica Simpson was to become a famous singer. I knew, I had none of that drive to do anything with my writing.
However, I still operated under the assumption that my time would come and fame would find me, or at least a publisher. After watching "Driven," I figured I would meet someone who would take me places at Beloit, because I was led to believe that important people came and went to Beloit, people with connection.
They do not. Or at least I failed to find anyone like that. I was unable to do anything really worth while professionally while I was at Beloit. I tried, do not get me wrong. I applied to a ton of internships all four years of college. I never got past the first interview. I always figured this was due to my lack of ambition and drive and one could simply tell that by my voice.
At Beloit, I also lost that assumption I'd grow up to be something big and successful. Everyone it seemed at Beloit wanted to be a writer, or something having to do with writing. Many of these people wrote better than me and they had that ambiton and drive in them to do something. I lacked that. I was sitting at my desk freshman year when I realized that I had been operating under an assumption for years that wasn't true. I wasn't going anywhere, I was not the girl going places like I had been led to believe by myself and others. I bounced from one profession to another while I was at Beloit. I arrived thinking I wanted to be a writer, then I wanted to be a lawyer, then I thought I'd try marketing and finally, by the time I was a junior I gave up trying to figure out what I wanted to be. I just knew what I did not want to be. I became listless and less driven for anything than I had been before. Everyone around me knew what they wanted to be: screen writer, dig in the dirt and find stuff, editor, puppeteer, art historian, pilot, teacher. What did I want to be?
I wanted to be Ed Whitacre. Yeah, you read that right. It was one of those random decisions I made my senior year to get people off my back about what I wanted to do with my future. The answer "I don't know" does not seem to fly when you are a senior in college and not planning to go to grad school. I took it so far to come up with a plan to become Ed Whitacre, which included a year of bumming around New Zealand. However, my mom did not like this idea in the least because it included working any sort of job for a year and then leaving. She reminded of health insurance and student loans and proceeded to crush the idea of ever becoming the CEO of AT&T. Not that I seriously thought this was a goal of mine. I lack drive and ambition, two things all CEOs have.
I graduated from Beloit with an expensive piece of paper that was in reality rather useless for anything I wanted to do. I tried to find a marketing job, they were all sales jobs in disguse. After three months of "job hunting" I gave up trying to find a good paying job that I'd like. I just wanted a job, so that was how I ended up being, for lack of name, an Administrative Assistant. This made me sort of sad because in the back of my head I still had all these allusions of gradure and Administrative Assistant didn't sound to me like a job title I really wanted (though, my job title was really Informational Servies Assistant). The job bore me at times, and after I left the job and went to do actual Admin work, I was still pretty bored most of the time.
I still have no idea what I want to do. I do not think I ever will know what I will want to do with myself. There are days this doesn't bother me at all, then there are days where it annoys the crap out of me because there is that little part of my brian that still believes I need to be someone big, famous, and influential.
But, in the end, Jessica Simpson stole my drive.
Now, do not get me wrong. I am happy in my life for the most part. I've got a great, annoying, cute dog and a great husband who I love. I wouldn't trade being famous for any of it. I wouldn't even trade fame for leaving the dirt hole. It is just that sometimes I wish I knew what to do with myself once I left this dirt hole.
24 January 2009
it's all about the name to be the "hero"
I was watching Lost the other night, totally paying attention to what was going on. My husband, meanwhile, was clearly not as when Kate when to call Jack, he asked, "Why is she calling Shepard?"
"Because she's scared and that is who she goes to when she's scared?" I asked, not sure why he was asking because she never did call Jack.
"Yeah, but isn't he in another galaxy? Wouldn't he be hard to reach?"
I stared at him for a moment before I realized he was talking about John Shepard of Stargate Atlantis, not Jack Sheppard of Lost.
It was then I realized the two guys have pretty much the same name. And thinking about it, they are sort of the same, two dudes who didn't want to be a hero/leader yet ended up ones. Seriously, if John Shepard had wanted glory and stuff, he wouldn't have been flying helicopters around the Antarctic. As my husband said, "There's only two types of helicoptes: one's that have crashed and ones that will."
So ends the Shepards.
"Because she's scared and that is who she goes to when she's scared?" I asked, not sure why he was asking because she never did call Jack.
"Yeah, but isn't he in another galaxy? Wouldn't he be hard to reach?"
I stared at him for a moment before I realized he was talking about John Shepard of Stargate Atlantis, not Jack Sheppard of Lost.
It was then I realized the two guys have pretty much the same name. And thinking about it, they are sort of the same, two dudes who didn't want to be a hero/leader yet ended up ones. Seriously, if John Shepard had wanted glory and stuff, he wouldn't have been flying helicopters around the Antarctic. As my husband said, "There's only two types of helicoptes: one's that have crashed and ones that will."
So ends the Shepards.
21 January 2009
I like funny TV shows. Sometimes, one just simply needs to laugh at something. This is why I began watching Sabrina the Teenage Witch when I was in college. I remember for unknown reasons I was up at 11 pm at caught it on The N and was re-hooked on the show, as I had watched it for three years while it was on TV on Friday nights. Then, high school happened and I got a life that meant I was ALWAYS on the phone, thus no time to watch TV.
After that one episode, I always watched it at 11 pm. I stayed up just to watch it. Then one night, it WAS NOT ON! CLUELESS WAS ON! Boy, was I mad. The next summer I found out it was on at five and five thirty on ABC Family, or something, so I always watched it while I worked out. It remained on that time for all of my summer break.
Then I did not watch it again until I was married. I was bored out of my mind on afternoon and channel flipping and found out that it was on at one pm. I began watching it again and was reminded just how funny the show was and it gave me a much needed burst of laughter and engery. I basically have now watched all of the seasons and have the seasons that I enjoy and the one that I could just live without (the last season.) I am not too crazy about the college seasons, but they still have the aunts in them. Once the aunts were gone, something was just totally missing.
Lately, I've added What I Like About You to the shows I watch to laugh. At first I wasn't sure what I felt about it, but I found that I wanted to know what was happening, so I began to watch. Now, I have come to realize I cannot stand Amanda Bynes character Holly. Her current boyfriend on the show, Vince, seems like a different guy now that he's going out with Holly. I am annoyed to the core by both, but I watch the show for Val, Jennie Garth's character. She is funny. I like her story lines. So, I watch that show to laugh now, as well as Sabrina.
I miss prime time shows that really get me laughing. Today everything seems to be drama and the few sitcomes that are out there I find really stupid.
Well, LOST is premiering tonight and oddly, I think I am going to watch it. I went through a peroid of time where I refused to watch the show on TV, I only could do DVD after Claire got LOST in the mail. (When she told me she was getting LOST in the mail, I laughed at her and she couldn't figure out why I was laughing at her, until she thought about it, then realized what I had thought she had meant. She was getting lost in the mail.) However, last year when they played the finale I was sitting there watching it and I wasn't sure what I was doing. Since that point in time, I've taken to watching LOST on Sci Fi on Mondays. (except last Monday, I forgot). Anyways, I am mostly caught up.
After that one episode, I always watched it at 11 pm. I stayed up just to watch it. Then one night, it WAS NOT ON! CLUELESS WAS ON! Boy, was I mad. The next summer I found out it was on at five and five thirty on ABC Family, or something, so I always watched it while I worked out. It remained on that time for all of my summer break.
Then I did not watch it again until I was married. I was bored out of my mind on afternoon and channel flipping and found out that it was on at one pm. I began watching it again and was reminded just how funny the show was and it gave me a much needed burst of laughter and engery. I basically have now watched all of the seasons and have the seasons that I enjoy and the one that I could just live without (the last season.) I am not too crazy about the college seasons, but they still have the aunts in them. Once the aunts were gone, something was just totally missing.
Lately, I've added What I Like About You to the shows I watch to laugh. At first I wasn't sure what I felt about it, but I found that I wanted to know what was happening, so I began to watch. Now, I have come to realize I cannot stand Amanda Bynes character Holly. Her current boyfriend on the show, Vince, seems like a different guy now that he's going out with Holly. I am annoyed to the core by both, but I watch the show for Val, Jennie Garth's character. She is funny. I like her story lines. So, I watch that show to laugh now, as well as Sabrina.
I miss prime time shows that really get me laughing. Today everything seems to be drama and the few sitcomes that are out there I find really stupid.
Well, LOST is premiering tonight and oddly, I think I am going to watch it. I went through a peroid of time where I refused to watch the show on TV, I only could do DVD after Claire got LOST in the mail. (When she told me she was getting LOST in the mail, I laughed at her and she couldn't figure out why I was laughing at her, until she thought about it, then realized what I had thought she had meant. She was getting lost in the mail.) However, last year when they played the finale I was sitting there watching it and I wasn't sure what I was doing. Since that point in time, I've taken to watching LOST on Sci Fi on Mondays. (except last Monday, I forgot). Anyways, I am mostly caught up.
20 January 2009
its a new dawn
We have a new president. And, for the first time in my life, I actually watched it happen. I kept thinking about the West Wing throughout the morning though, and kept thinking, "Man, I miss that show."
It was sort of strange watching it, as I felt like I really wasn't watching it, I was just sitting on the couch watching TV and being lazy. I rushed my gym time because I got the time wrong when the thing was going to start, so I had to do my workout at home, after doing cardio at the gym. The dog was not too fond of that.
Nor was she fond of watching the speech with me, as she chose her loudest toy to chew on while he was talking. Oh well.
When Regan gave up the reins to Bush, I was in the car with my mother driving somewhere. I remember her trying to explain what was going on, but in reality I did not care. When Bush transitioned to Clinton, I was busy having four teeth yanked out of my mouth, which was a horridly dramatic experience for me and thus has shaped my feelings towards dentist and teeth in general. When Clinton took the oath again, I have no idea where I was, more than likely being bored in school. When Bush Boy took the oath, both times, I ignored him. First time I bet I was in school and the second time I was in college and didn't like him, thus I ignored him. In reality, I ignored Bush Boy most of the time he was around if I could help it.
This was the first one I watched and all I could think about was the West Wing. I kept thinking, "Oh, this is totally like how the West Wing did it!" And I knew deep down that the West Wing was not the first to do things the way they were done, but that was what I kept thinking. And it annoyed me to no end.
I realized yesterday, that come tonight, Bush Boy and I will be residing in the same state. I know its a big state, but still. I've never been in the same state as a former president or president.
It was sort of strange watching it, as I felt like I really wasn't watching it, I was just sitting on the couch watching TV and being lazy. I rushed my gym time because I got the time wrong when the thing was going to start, so I had to do my workout at home, after doing cardio at the gym. The dog was not too fond of that.
Nor was she fond of watching the speech with me, as she chose her loudest toy to chew on while he was talking. Oh well.
When Regan gave up the reins to Bush, I was in the car with my mother driving somewhere. I remember her trying to explain what was going on, but in reality I did not care. When Bush transitioned to Clinton, I was busy having four teeth yanked out of my mouth, which was a horridly dramatic experience for me and thus has shaped my feelings towards dentist and teeth in general. When Clinton took the oath again, I have no idea where I was, more than likely being bored in school. When Bush Boy took the oath, both times, I ignored him. First time I bet I was in school and the second time I was in college and didn't like him, thus I ignored him. In reality, I ignored Bush Boy most of the time he was around if I could help it.
This was the first one I watched and all I could think about was the West Wing. I kept thinking, "Oh, this is totally like how the West Wing did it!" And I knew deep down that the West Wing was not the first to do things the way they were done, but that was what I kept thinking. And it annoyed me to no end.
I realized yesterday, that come tonight, Bush Boy and I will be residing in the same state. I know its a big state, but still. I've never been in the same state as a former president or president.
16 January 2009
I Write. Seriously.
I've been writing things for most of my life. I remember my first stories, they were all dialouge and had pictures of people in them having things I wanted. In about 8th grade it finally made it though my thick head that a story is more than simply dialouge that isn't identified at all in the course of the story. So, I wrote narration and dialouge and built a story. My mother was impressed.
None of the kids at school were. When I'd be writing during breaks in teaching or when I was done with my homework, most kids would ask, "What are ya doing?" I would tell them I was writing a story. "Why are you writing when its not an assignment?" They refused to believe me it was "fun." So, my first few actual stories went unnoticed. I spent my summer writing short stories about various things, longer ones that had no plots. I entered high school and stopped writing for a few months. Until one day in study hall I was 1) angst filled and 2) bored out of my mind. I had finished what little homework I had, and had nothing to do with the whole study hall. So I took out a piece of loose leaf and just began writing.
And a beast was born. I wrote between between periods, during lunch, and at any point I wasn't supposed to be "learning." Which, it turned out was quite often. I wrote, and I wrote, and I wrote. I went though loose leaf like there was no tomorrow. I had about three "novels" going during 9th grade. One was an on going account, dramatized a bit, of my life. The others were all based off this really odd dream I kept having, which featured people from my daily life. I wrote and wrote and wrote. Now, when people would ask me what I was doing and I'd tell them, they'd either stare at me or ask me (which was the most common) "Can I read it?" And usually, I'd had them either a page I was done with or whatever I was doing. They then would ask if they could read it upon my completion. I always said yes.
None of them read anything upon completion because by the time I was done with it, they were gone, more than likely having forgotten about me and my huge assignment notebook filled with loose leaf.
I did not think I really had much talent for writing. I usually got Bs on essays and papers, usually only due to the fact my mom edited the shit out of everything I wrote. Creative stuff I'd write, I usually would get some comment about how it was a great idea, but needed to be fleshed out or something like that. Teachers never really singled me out as a "great writer."
Except one. My sophomore year my English teacher also ran the yearbook. I was minding my own business, about maybe a month after school started, when he walked into my 8th hour study hall (I know, why was I in an 8th hour study hall?) I had just really finished up fighting with my consular about my Spanish teacher and class and she thought I was nuts for keeping the 8th hour study hall when I could go home. She didn't walk home, I did. I did not want to carry my heavy text books home when I could sit in a room and do my homework. I was doing my geometry homework when my English teacher walked in and asked to see me. He beckoned me with his finger to come and I guess I looked freaked out because he said loudly, "You're not in trouble."
Which was what I thought and couldn't figure out what I had done, as I was a very well behaved kid and was always on time and turned in homework in a very, very timely manner. He took me out in the hall and told me he wanted me to be on the yearbook staff.
This confused me beyond all known belief because you had to "try out" and "apply" to be on yearbook. One could not just join. There were forms and writing samples and a bunch of stuff I was too lazy to care about. But here he was, asking ME to be on yearbook. I think I just stood there staring at him, so he told me he liked my writing style and saw I had great potential to be a great writer. He got this all from a paragraph I had written on the first day of school about...I think what I did over the summer, or something like that.
It took me about three seconds to say yes after this, because I knew 1) I could claim yearbook on my college applications for at least one year and 2) my parents would be thrilled as I had JOINED something.
I ended up hating yearbook with ever fiber of my being. I was bored a lot, because I hardly had anything to do and I was never sure how to do "work" during 8th hour on my story (other than writing it.) Getting quotes caused me panic attacks because I had to talk to people I did not know. I got creative with getting quotes about half way through the first semester. I would assign my friends who knew people I needed quotes from to get them for me, or I would take quotes from people I knew and would anonymously quote them. I know that is terrible, but I did what I had to in order to remain calm and alive.
I realized rather quickly what I hated about yearbook writing was the editors tended to edit out all my creative stuff and made the story as boring as hell. I asked my dad, a journalism major, about this after the first story I wrote and he asked, "Why did they edit out all that? Why do all these quotes have 'said' after them? What happened to the character of this article?" The editors sucks the life out of it, that was what. Thus, writing my stories for yearbook become a chore and a bore. I couldn't do anything fun at all with them. One was even re-written (and not by me) to favor the view of the school administration, not the students. I did not realize it until I read the story in the year book and said, "I did not write that, why is my name on that?"
Much to my English teacher's dismay, I did not reapply for yearbook the following year. I had thought about it for about two seconds, as they were moving to "alternative" copy, but I still had to get quotes for stuff and that was the part of yearbook I hated the most. Either I couldn't get anyone to talk to me once I told them what I was doing, or they didn't want their name in the story and later the editors wanted the names. I refused to give them up, because they had asked not to be named. I got into a few fights with my mentor about this. I gave up by the end and just would glare at her when she would ask me for the actual names. Then, I would just go ask my best friend at the time to find people who were willing to be named. She was usually very successful at this, as she knew quite a few people.
While I was on yearbook staff, I kept writing on my own. I was always writing, usually not what I should have been writing, but still writing. I was a very angsty teen and over dramatic, and it was a great relief to write. I wasn't really into typing my stuff up, but I did at times and when I got into fan fiction, I started my own website. (Which much to my embarrassment I was asked to show to my English class at one point and I think I almost died until a girl I had known since 6th grade got really excited about the fact a few of the stories were about the Backstreet Boys.)
At the end of my sophomore year, I began a story about a girl named Greta. I had written a play about Greta that never was to be preformed, but I had fallen in love with each of the characters and for some odd reason I could not allow them to die. So I began her story. I finished it and started another story from a different character's point of view. And thus, my "novel" began. It became my pet project, something I always, always go back to. I put it away for awhile, but I always come back. I've re-written it a few times, started a new section and re-wrote that. A friend of mine (who had suffered through a few drafts of stories) seems rather...I'm not sure the world for it is, but he seems to think I should stop writing about high school stuff, as these characters are still in high school. He thinks my writing needs to become more serious and less...fluffy. However, while this hurt my feelings because I have spent so much time and energy on these stories, I don't do serious. I have tried a few times to write a "grown up" book. It just does work because that is not what I enjoy writing. I've written a few serious things, one got published in my high school's lit magazine.
I've read it a few times since I got out of high school and I still to this day cannot believe I wrote it. It is dark, serious, and real. And it was born out of this crazy day dream I had when I was on vacation for two weeks and removed from my crazy, drama filled existence. I seem to change when I am removed from my life for points of time, which is usually when turning points happen and I realize I hate myself. This was one of those times and I just got to thinking about what would happen if my parents died. Where would I go? What would happen to me and this crazy life I had? Would I be able to escape from it?
I was looking for escape. I was, thought out high school, looking for away to escape life and find a way to like myself. So, I wrote a story about how this might happen. And it got published and I once again became the focus of how great a writer I was.
I did not become a writer like everyone thought in high school. I had a speech teacher who actually got upset with me when I did my career speech on becoming a marking associate or something in business. He wanted me to become a writer. I never wanted to be a writer because they don't make any money and even at the age of 16 I knew I was expensive and would need a high paying job to get by. He seemed to be lost to this and upset I wasn't going to be a writer. When I declared my major in college, I wondered what he would have thought about me choosing political science and economics over creative writing (which was what I went to Beloit to do, but realized everyone was there to do that.)
As I went through college, I realized that I was not the best writer out there and almost everyone wanted to be a writer, or they wanted to write. There were good writers at Beloit, creative writers, ones that could write that adult, serious stuff. I tried a few times to get people to read my "novel" but no one read it all the way through. No one ever wanted to, no one had the time. It was like in high school. People would say they wanted to read it, but they would vanish and never read it. Only, this time I was hurt because I wanted someone to read it other than myself. I have had two friend who had read it. They liked it. But, what I wanted was all these wonderful writers at Beloit to aid me in making the story better. I have NEVER sat down to talk about the novel and making it better and publishing worthy with anyone. And I won't ever, so it will always sit where it is and I will continuously go back to it and entertain the idea of getting it up to snuff to publish.
It will not be published.
I will still finish the unfinished stories in it, I will still re-write it a few more times in my life. I will still reprint copies and edit them and rework the stories to get them to flow better.
It will never be published.
It is not exciting enough, it does not have a great love affair, there is no actual sex in the book. The book is not the typical sort of book once finds in the Junior Reader section, the Tween section or whatever it is called. I believe the characters are all strong. There is some "romance" in the stories, but they are more about figuring yourself out. Not hooking up and finding a date.
Thus, it will never be published.
But, I will still write.
None of the kids at school were. When I'd be writing during breaks in teaching or when I was done with my homework, most kids would ask, "What are ya doing?" I would tell them I was writing a story. "Why are you writing when its not an assignment?" They refused to believe me it was "fun." So, my first few actual stories went unnoticed. I spent my summer writing short stories about various things, longer ones that had no plots. I entered high school and stopped writing for a few months. Until one day in study hall I was 1) angst filled and 2) bored out of my mind. I had finished what little homework I had, and had nothing to do with the whole study hall. So I took out a piece of loose leaf and just began writing.
And a beast was born. I wrote between between periods, during lunch, and at any point I wasn't supposed to be "learning." Which, it turned out was quite often. I wrote, and I wrote, and I wrote. I went though loose leaf like there was no tomorrow. I had about three "novels" going during 9th grade. One was an on going account, dramatized a bit, of my life. The others were all based off this really odd dream I kept having, which featured people from my daily life. I wrote and wrote and wrote. Now, when people would ask me what I was doing and I'd tell them, they'd either stare at me or ask me (which was the most common) "Can I read it?" And usually, I'd had them either a page I was done with or whatever I was doing. They then would ask if they could read it upon my completion. I always said yes.
None of them read anything upon completion because by the time I was done with it, they were gone, more than likely having forgotten about me and my huge assignment notebook filled with loose leaf.
I did not think I really had much talent for writing. I usually got Bs on essays and papers, usually only due to the fact my mom edited the shit out of everything I wrote. Creative stuff I'd write, I usually would get some comment about how it was a great idea, but needed to be fleshed out or something like that. Teachers never really singled me out as a "great writer."
Except one. My sophomore year my English teacher also ran the yearbook. I was minding my own business, about maybe a month after school started, when he walked into my 8th hour study hall (I know, why was I in an 8th hour study hall?) I had just really finished up fighting with my consular about my Spanish teacher and class and she thought I was nuts for keeping the 8th hour study hall when I could go home. She didn't walk home, I did. I did not want to carry my heavy text books home when I could sit in a room and do my homework. I was doing my geometry homework when my English teacher walked in and asked to see me. He beckoned me with his finger to come and I guess I looked freaked out because he said loudly, "You're not in trouble."
Which was what I thought and couldn't figure out what I had done, as I was a very well behaved kid and was always on time and turned in homework in a very, very timely manner. He took me out in the hall and told me he wanted me to be on the yearbook staff.
This confused me beyond all known belief because you had to "try out" and "apply" to be on yearbook. One could not just join. There were forms and writing samples and a bunch of stuff I was too lazy to care about. But here he was, asking ME to be on yearbook. I think I just stood there staring at him, so he told me he liked my writing style and saw I had great potential to be a great writer. He got this all from a paragraph I had written on the first day of school about...I think what I did over the summer, or something like that.
It took me about three seconds to say yes after this, because I knew 1) I could claim yearbook on my college applications for at least one year and 2) my parents would be thrilled as I had JOINED something.
I ended up hating yearbook with ever fiber of my being. I was bored a lot, because I hardly had anything to do and I was never sure how to do "work" during 8th hour on my story (other than writing it.) Getting quotes caused me panic attacks because I had to talk to people I did not know. I got creative with getting quotes about half way through the first semester. I would assign my friends who knew people I needed quotes from to get them for me, or I would take quotes from people I knew and would anonymously quote them. I know that is terrible, but I did what I had to in order to remain calm and alive.
I realized rather quickly what I hated about yearbook writing was the editors tended to edit out all my creative stuff and made the story as boring as hell. I asked my dad, a journalism major, about this after the first story I wrote and he asked, "Why did they edit out all that? Why do all these quotes have 'said' after them? What happened to the character of this article?" The editors sucks the life out of it, that was what. Thus, writing my stories for yearbook become a chore and a bore. I couldn't do anything fun at all with them. One was even re-written (and not by me) to favor the view of the school administration, not the students. I did not realize it until I read the story in the year book and said, "I did not write that, why is my name on that?"
Much to my English teacher's dismay, I did not reapply for yearbook the following year. I had thought about it for about two seconds, as they were moving to "alternative" copy, but I still had to get quotes for stuff and that was the part of yearbook I hated the most. Either I couldn't get anyone to talk to me once I told them what I was doing, or they didn't want their name in the story and later the editors wanted the names. I refused to give them up, because they had asked not to be named. I got into a few fights with my mentor about this. I gave up by the end and just would glare at her when she would ask me for the actual names. Then, I would just go ask my best friend at the time to find people who were willing to be named. She was usually very successful at this, as she knew quite a few people.
While I was on yearbook staff, I kept writing on my own. I was always writing, usually not what I should have been writing, but still writing. I was a very angsty teen and over dramatic, and it was a great relief to write. I wasn't really into typing my stuff up, but I did at times and when I got into fan fiction, I started my own website. (Which much to my embarrassment I was asked to show to my English class at one point and I think I almost died until a girl I had known since 6th grade got really excited about the fact a few of the stories were about the Backstreet Boys.)
At the end of my sophomore year, I began a story about a girl named Greta. I had written a play about Greta that never was to be preformed, but I had fallen in love with each of the characters and for some odd reason I could not allow them to die. So I began her story. I finished it and started another story from a different character's point of view. And thus, my "novel" began. It became my pet project, something I always, always go back to. I put it away for awhile, but I always come back. I've re-written it a few times, started a new section and re-wrote that. A friend of mine (who had suffered through a few drafts of stories) seems rather...I'm not sure the world for it is, but he seems to think I should stop writing about high school stuff, as these characters are still in high school. He thinks my writing needs to become more serious and less...fluffy. However, while this hurt my feelings because I have spent so much time and energy on these stories, I don't do serious. I have tried a few times to write a "grown up" book. It just does work because that is not what I enjoy writing. I've written a few serious things, one got published in my high school's lit magazine.
I've read it a few times since I got out of high school and I still to this day cannot believe I wrote it. It is dark, serious, and real. And it was born out of this crazy day dream I had when I was on vacation for two weeks and removed from my crazy, drama filled existence. I seem to change when I am removed from my life for points of time, which is usually when turning points happen and I realize I hate myself. This was one of those times and I just got to thinking about what would happen if my parents died. Where would I go? What would happen to me and this crazy life I had? Would I be able to escape from it?
I was looking for escape. I was, thought out high school, looking for away to escape life and find a way to like myself. So, I wrote a story about how this might happen. And it got published and I once again became the focus of how great a writer I was.
I did not become a writer like everyone thought in high school. I had a speech teacher who actually got upset with me when I did my career speech on becoming a marking associate or something in business. He wanted me to become a writer. I never wanted to be a writer because they don't make any money and even at the age of 16 I knew I was expensive and would need a high paying job to get by. He seemed to be lost to this and upset I wasn't going to be a writer. When I declared my major in college, I wondered what he would have thought about me choosing political science and economics over creative writing (which was what I went to Beloit to do, but realized everyone was there to do that.)
As I went through college, I realized that I was not the best writer out there and almost everyone wanted to be a writer, or they wanted to write. There were good writers at Beloit, creative writers, ones that could write that adult, serious stuff. I tried a few times to get people to read my "novel" but no one read it all the way through. No one ever wanted to, no one had the time. It was like in high school. People would say they wanted to read it, but they would vanish and never read it. Only, this time I was hurt because I wanted someone to read it other than myself. I have had two friend who had read it. They liked it. But, what I wanted was all these wonderful writers at Beloit to aid me in making the story better. I have NEVER sat down to talk about the novel and making it better and publishing worthy with anyone. And I won't ever, so it will always sit where it is and I will continuously go back to it and entertain the idea of getting it up to snuff to publish.
It will not be published.
I will still finish the unfinished stories in it, I will still re-write it a few more times in my life. I will still reprint copies and edit them and rework the stories to get them to flow better.
It will never be published.
It is not exciting enough, it does not have a great love affair, there is no actual sex in the book. The book is not the typical sort of book once finds in the Junior Reader section, the Tween section or whatever it is called. I believe the characters are all strong. There is some "romance" in the stories, but they are more about figuring yourself out. Not hooking up and finding a date.
Thus, it will never be published.
But, I will still write.
12 January 2009
Stargate Atlantis Ate My Soul
Last week, I spent the whole week on the couch. Not due to illness (though I did have issues breathing last week and bloody noses due to the overly dry air of winter in dirt hole), but because it was the final week that Stargate Atlantis would be an "on air" show. Sci Fi, in all its wonderful thinking, canceled the show with three episodes left in season five. This, it seems, caused some major issues in ending the show. I have a feeling the people who basically see $$$ when they look at TV shows, etc, thought, oh we have such success with putting SG-1 on DVD movie program, let's do it with Atlantis (Sci Fi also cancelled SG-1 in the middle of major plot going ons as well, but gave the show more notice about ending then Atlantis). So the poor writers, directors and producers had to scramble to come up with some way to END the show in basically two eps. Yeah, you try it and see how you fare.
They sunk. That is what they did, they sunk hard core to the bottom of the ocean above Atlantis, well once it took off in all its flying city glory for Earth to protect Earth from the SUPER WRAITH SHIP! OHNOZ!
Here is how the episode went:
La la la la la, we are the people of Atlantis! Oh, wait, here's Todd the Wraith with vital plot important information! Let's put him in a strange looking flight suit and stick him, not in a prison, but a conference room, because the last time we saw Todd he was trying to be a good Wraith and become a nice one that doesn't eat humans. Yet, that did not go too well for him, he almost died, and we let him go find some bug to cure him and figured he was dead. But, obviously, he's not dead as he's here with major plot information!
"Hi, Todd. You're not dead," says Col. Shepard, entering the room in his black version of what Todd's got on.
"I know, but don't I look horrid? That bug did wonders for my health, but it made me look terrible. Also, I guess it made me suck ass as a leader, as my first prime...I mean first commander totally stole my new crew and something vital to the plot from me."
"Wasn't he new too? The commander? As you sort of killed your whole crew?"
"No, you killed my crew."
"Oh yeah. So, what is this plot important information?"
"ZPMs, from the Replicators."
"Now, we did kill those guys dead. Sort of. Forget Elizabeth and her gang."
"Yeah, well, they left these three ZPMs behind. So I took them. I was totally going to give them to you."
"No you weren't. I know you, Todd. I named you!"
"True that. Anyways, so this guy stole one from me and used it to build...SUPER WRAITH SHIP OF DEATH!"
Shepard freaks out without actually freaking out. He tells he'll kill Todd dead if he is lying, and goes off to find the ship with his trusty mates Roan (resident badass), Rodney McKay (resident asshat) and Tayla (resident hot lady). They go off in a space ship and try to kill the SUPER WRAITH SHIP OF DEATH and they....FAIL!
Okay, so they failed. What else could go wrong?
"Uh, guys? Remember me? That ass hat doctor you thought might be a Goul'd and I totally hate you all out loud?"
"Yeah, what are you doing here?" Shepard asks. "And why did they give you wings and a flight suit? You are a freaking scientist?!"
"And you hate the military," McKay jealously points out.
The dude ignores them and goes on to tell them the following, "Uh, we're picking up this here message."
McKay looks and freaks out. Somehow there's a message from another space time! Its in Wraith and gives the coordinate for EARHT! OH NOZ! THE WORLD IS GONNA END BECAUSE SOME GUY SENT A MESSAGE INTO VARIOUS OTHER SPACE TIMES! If we only knew where it really came from (Las Vegas, mind you.)
Oh, that sucks. Let's send Shepard to Earth, away from his team, to fight along side Carter and that random major guy who popped up at random moments. Oh, and instead of some nice Shepard/McKay banter for the final round, let's have a touching moment between Carter and Shepard! Oh, btw, we moved the Ancient Chair to Area 51.
"Well it's lovely to see you, but I guess I'll go to Area 51 now."
"Nope, you can't," Carter said. "I think the Wraith ships are heading there."
"So the reason we took you away from your mates, is sort of going to blow up, so you'll have to go on a Kamikaze mission. Shepard is going to be dead soon. Enjoy life in the flying glider and your death mission to the SUPER WRAITH SHIP! okthxbia," says the major dude Paul Davis.
"Hey, why are you wearing your service dress for a war? Is it Monday?" Shepard asks.
"Why, yes, actually it is. This whole Wraith thing is very last minute, so I couldn't change into my war outfit," Davis explains.
"But I did," Carter chrips. "Let's do something productive than just stand here talking. Let's get some gliders in the air and blow stuff up."
Shepard likes this idea and gets his paws on a super nuke and takes off into his glider. How he knows to fly one is beyond me because in his past life as an AF pilot, he flew helicopters, not flighters, not planes, but helicopters. So, off goes the gliders and the SUPER WRAITH SHIP OF DEATH hides behind the moon or something.
Meanwhile, back on Atlantis....
Wait, did you say that the super wriath ship we failed to blow up on our first try took out our other space ships? Oh, woe, what are we to do now?
"Hey, do you know we're in a flying city?" Todd the Wraith asks.
"Why, Todd, yes we are. But we only have one super duper power cell," the Doctor, uh, I mean Woosley informs him.
"Didn't I tell you when I first got here that I had three?"
"Yes." long pause. "Oh yeah, I guess you brought those with you, didn't you?"
"Yeah, I did. Now, go and fly the city to save all those tasty humans!"
And off Atlantis goes. Now, Shepard is off saving Earth all by his lonesome, who is to fly the city?! Oh, Carson Beckett! That is right, he's got the gene strong enough to do it AND he is not dead. (He's a clone!) So, the good doctor flies the city into the night! Or day. (It is surprising he does manage to do this, as almost all other times Carson gets into the Chair something goes a miss (the first time he almost killed Shepard and O'Neil...)
However, the engine gives out and they are adrift (which is not Carson's fault, its an old city for crying out loud!) Until Zeleka has an idea!
"So, Rodney was working on this really crazy idea."
"We'll do it!" Woosley exclaims.
"Its about worm hole travel or something really, really complicated."
"I don't care, let's do it. Don't explain it to me, I've been a by the books yes man for most of my life. I have no idea what you're talking about half the time anyways."
"Okay, I'll just go do some really complicated math and we'll be there in a jiffy."
"Ah, good. I'm going to go talk to Todd."
And Atlantis travels into the worm hole or something. After this, they do something else find themselves face to face with the crazy SUPER WRAITH SHIP OF DEATH and figure out there's there is a Stargate on it, so they dial and go have an adventure.
"Now don't die Roan," Tayla says. "There are movies after this we must be in
."
"Got it. I'll just shoot my heart out," Roan says and then, oops, Roan dies.
"HEY! I TOLD YOU NOT TO DO THAT!"
Dead Roan says nothing, he is just dead.
"OHMYGOD!" Rodney shouts. "I NEED TO BE AN ASSHAT TODAY!"
"Oh yeah, let's go allow you to be an asshat away from Roan, as he was killed dead."
And Tayla and McKay exit. Then some Random Wraith walks up and brings Roan back to life and shouted, "TELL ME WHERE THE OTHERS ARE! THEN I WILL EAT YOU!"
"You're super ship can't tell you?"
"No, that is a flaw in our super ship," Random Wraith admits. "BUT I KILL YOU DEAD!"
"But you just brought me back to life!"
"ROAN YOU"RE NOT KILLED DEAD!"
"WHAT? I WAS TRYING TO BE AN ASSHAT WHAT IS GOING ON?" McKay demands as Tayla and Lorne (who is replacing Shepard for this mission) shoot the Wairth all dead and pick up Roan.
"I can't die. I've got main character protection," Roan reminds Tayla.
"I know, but I thought maybe you didn't want to be in the movie. Let's get out of here Rodney. Fix the gate."
So they start off, dragging an alive Roan behind them. Rodney goes on trying to be the ass hat he is (while a man who has never seen the show announces several times, "God, that guy is such and ass.")
Meanwhile, back in the land of Kamazkie missions, the Wraith have blown up the Ancient Chair of Saving and now Shepard is going to fly his super nuke into the SUPER WRAITH SHIP OF DEATH and die along with it. So he goes and is in position and radios to someone he's ready to die and McKay freaks out. Then Shepard freaks out because he thinks that his mates are on Atlantis, not in this SUPER WRAITH SHIP OF DEATH. They began to bicker about what to do next.
"Hey, instead of fighting about setting the nuke off, let's go get Shepard, shoot some Wraith, get Rodney to fix the gate and then GO!" Lorne shouts.
This sounds good, so they meet Shepard, fight off some Wraith (oddly Lorne dose not die) and they gate off the WRAITH SHIP OF DEATH just before the nuke goes off and EXPLODES the SUPER WRAITH SHIP OF DEATH, which isn't that super. It went BOOM!
"Do you find it odd they only brought one ship?" Tayla asks as she dragged Roan around the alpha site.
"Yeah, but we've got those movies," Shepard reminds her.
"Yeah, maybe Jennifer will be in those more than she was in this finale episode," Rodney comments. "Hey, I wonder how she's doing on Atlantis?"
Meanwhile, back on Earth, Atlantis is crashing to the planet's surface as a huge fire ball (with Jennifer Keller on it, presumably).
"So, I guess I get to go to Earth, don't I?" Todd asks as things explode as the city falls to Earth.
"Yeah, I guess you do. But you won't get out to see the sites," Woosley says.
"I guess that is sort of tragic, but that is okay. I am going to go see Keller, as she has not been in the whole episode."
"Good idea."
City crashes down in ocean and floats into San Fransico harbor. Somehow (and for unknown reasons) the crew goes back to the city and Roan is sitting in a medical bed. This random girl (who is evidently the Amelia who explains what the gate is doing) comes in to talk to Roan. I have no clue why she gets to talk to Roan or why he seems friendly to her, as before now she just was the girl who said the gate was acting up. Anyways, she drags Roan to see the Golden Gate Bridge, and the people who saved Earth (except Lorne, but including Jennifer) get to stare at the bridge.
The End.
They sunk. That is what they did, they sunk hard core to the bottom of the ocean above Atlantis, well once it took off in all its flying city glory for Earth to protect Earth from the SUPER WRAITH SHIP! OHNOZ!
Here is how the episode went:
La la la la la, we are the people of Atlantis! Oh, wait, here's Todd the Wraith with vital plot important information! Let's put him in a strange looking flight suit and stick him, not in a prison, but a conference room, because the last time we saw Todd he was trying to be a good Wraith and become a nice one that doesn't eat humans. Yet, that did not go too well for him, he almost died, and we let him go find some bug to cure him and figured he was dead. But, obviously, he's not dead as he's here with major plot information!
"Hi, Todd. You're not dead," says Col. Shepard, entering the room in his black version of what Todd's got on.
"I know, but don't I look horrid? That bug did wonders for my health, but it made me look terrible. Also, I guess it made me suck ass as a leader, as my first prime...I mean first commander totally stole my new crew and something vital to the plot from me."
"Wasn't he new too? The commander? As you sort of killed your whole crew?"
"No, you killed my crew."
"Oh yeah. So, what is this plot important information?"
"ZPMs, from the Replicators."
"Now, we did kill those guys dead. Sort of. Forget Elizabeth and her gang."
"Yeah, well, they left these three ZPMs behind. So I took them. I was totally going to give them to you."
"No you weren't. I know you, Todd. I named you!"
"True that. Anyways, so this guy stole one from me and used it to build...SUPER WRAITH SHIP OF DEATH!"
Shepard freaks out without actually freaking out. He tells he'll kill Todd dead if he is lying, and goes off to find the ship with his trusty mates Roan (resident badass), Rodney McKay (resident asshat) and Tayla (resident hot lady). They go off in a space ship and try to kill the SUPER WRAITH SHIP OF DEATH and they....FAIL!
Okay, so they failed. What else could go wrong?
"Uh, guys? Remember me? That ass hat doctor you thought might be a Goul'd and I totally hate you all out loud?"
"Yeah, what are you doing here?" Shepard asks. "And why did they give you wings and a flight suit? You are a freaking scientist?!"
"And you hate the military," McKay jealously points out.
The dude ignores them and goes on to tell them the following, "Uh, we're picking up this here message."
McKay looks and freaks out. Somehow there's a message from another space time! Its in Wraith and gives the coordinate for EARHT! OH NOZ! THE WORLD IS GONNA END BECAUSE SOME GUY SENT A MESSAGE INTO VARIOUS OTHER SPACE TIMES! If we only knew where it really came from (Las Vegas, mind you.)
Oh, that sucks. Let's send Shepard to Earth, away from his team, to fight along side Carter and that random major guy who popped up at random moments. Oh, and instead of some nice Shepard/McKay banter for the final round, let's have a touching moment between Carter and Shepard! Oh, btw, we moved the Ancient Chair to Area 51.
"Well it's lovely to see you, but I guess I'll go to Area 51 now."
"Nope, you can't," Carter said. "I think the Wraith ships are heading there."
"So the reason we took you away from your mates, is sort of going to blow up, so you'll have to go on a Kamikaze mission. Shepard is going to be dead soon. Enjoy life in the flying glider and your death mission to the SUPER WRAITH SHIP! okthxbia," says the major dude Paul Davis.
"Hey, why are you wearing your service dress for a war? Is it Monday?" Shepard asks.
"Why, yes, actually it is. This whole Wraith thing is very last minute, so I couldn't change into my war outfit," Davis explains.
"But I did," Carter chrips. "Let's do something productive than just stand here talking. Let's get some gliders in the air and blow stuff up."
Shepard likes this idea and gets his paws on a super nuke and takes off into his glider. How he knows to fly one is beyond me because in his past life as an AF pilot, he flew helicopters, not flighters, not planes, but helicopters. So, off goes the gliders and the SUPER WRAITH SHIP OF DEATH hides behind the moon or something.
Meanwhile, back on Atlantis....
Wait, did you say that the super wriath ship we failed to blow up on our first try took out our other space ships? Oh, woe, what are we to do now?
"Hey, do you know we're in a flying city?" Todd the Wraith asks.
"Why, Todd, yes we are. But we only have one super duper power cell," the Doctor, uh, I mean Woosley informs him.
"Didn't I tell you when I first got here that I had three?"
"Yes." long pause. "Oh yeah, I guess you brought those with you, didn't you?"
"Yeah, I did. Now, go and fly the city to save all those tasty humans!"
And off Atlantis goes. Now, Shepard is off saving Earth all by his lonesome, who is to fly the city?! Oh, Carson Beckett! That is right, he's got the gene strong enough to do it AND he is not dead. (He's a clone!) So, the good doctor flies the city into the night! Or day. (It is surprising he does manage to do this, as almost all other times Carson gets into the Chair something goes a miss (the first time he almost killed Shepard and O'Neil...)
However, the engine gives out and they are adrift (which is not Carson's fault, its an old city for crying out loud!) Until Zeleka has an idea!
"So, Rodney was working on this really crazy idea."
"We'll do it!" Woosley exclaims.
"Its about worm hole travel or something really, really complicated."
"I don't care, let's do it. Don't explain it to me, I've been a by the books yes man for most of my life. I have no idea what you're talking about half the time anyways."
"Okay, I'll just go do some really complicated math and we'll be there in a jiffy."
"Ah, good. I'm going to go talk to Todd."
And Atlantis travels into the worm hole or something. After this, they do something else find themselves face to face with the crazy SUPER WRAITH SHIP OF DEATH and figure out there's there is a Stargate on it, so they dial and go have an adventure.
"Now don't die Roan," Tayla says. "There are movies after this we must be in
.""Got it. I'll just shoot my heart out," Roan says and then, oops, Roan dies.
"HEY! I TOLD YOU NOT TO DO THAT!"
Dead Roan says nothing, he is just dead.
"OHMYGOD!" Rodney shouts. "I NEED TO BE AN ASSHAT TODAY!"
"Oh yeah, let's go allow you to be an asshat away from Roan, as he was killed dead."
And Tayla and McKay exit. Then some Random Wraith walks up and brings Roan back to life and shouted, "TELL ME WHERE THE OTHERS ARE! THEN I WILL EAT YOU!"
"You're super ship can't tell you?"
"No, that is a flaw in our super ship," Random Wraith admits. "BUT I KILL YOU DEAD!"
"But you just brought me back to life!"
"ROAN YOU"RE NOT KILLED DEAD!"
"WHAT? I WAS TRYING TO BE AN ASSHAT WHAT IS GOING ON?" McKay demands as Tayla and Lorne (who is replacing Shepard for this mission) shoot the Wairth all dead and pick up Roan.
"I can't die. I've got main character protection," Roan reminds Tayla.
"I know, but I thought maybe you didn't want to be in the movie. Let's get out of here Rodney. Fix the gate."
So they start off, dragging an alive Roan behind them. Rodney goes on trying to be the ass hat he is (while a man who has never seen the show announces several times, "God, that guy is such and ass.")
Meanwhile, back in the land of Kamazkie missions, the Wraith have blown up the Ancient Chair of Saving and now Shepard is going to fly his super nuke into the SUPER WRAITH SHIP OF DEATH and die along with it. So he goes and is in position and radios to someone he's ready to die and McKay freaks out. Then Shepard freaks out because he thinks that his mates are on Atlantis, not in this SUPER WRAITH SHIP OF DEATH. They began to bicker about what to do next.
"Hey, instead of fighting about setting the nuke off, let's go get Shepard, shoot some Wraith, get Rodney to fix the gate and then GO!" Lorne shouts.
This sounds good, so they meet Shepard, fight off some Wraith (oddly Lorne dose not die) and they gate off the WRAITH SHIP OF DEATH just before the nuke goes off and EXPLODES the SUPER WRAITH SHIP OF DEATH, which isn't that super. It went BOOM!
"Do you find it odd they only brought one ship?" Tayla asks as she dragged Roan around the alpha site.
"Yeah, but we've got those movies," Shepard reminds her.
"Yeah, maybe Jennifer will be in those more than she was in this finale episode," Rodney comments. "Hey, I wonder how she's doing on Atlantis?"
Meanwhile, back on Earth, Atlantis is crashing to the planet's surface as a huge fire ball (with Jennifer Keller on it, presumably).
"So, I guess I get to go to Earth, don't I?" Todd asks as things explode as the city falls to Earth.
"Yeah, I guess you do. But you won't get out to see the sites," Woosley says.
"I guess that is sort of tragic, but that is okay. I am going to go see Keller, as she has not been in the whole episode."
"Good idea."
City crashes down in ocean and floats into San Fransico harbor. Somehow (and for unknown reasons) the crew goes back to the city and Roan is sitting in a medical bed. This random girl (who is evidently the Amelia who explains what the gate is doing) comes in to talk to Roan. I have no clue why she gets to talk to Roan or why he seems friendly to her, as before now she just was the girl who said the gate was acting up. Anyways, she drags Roan to see the Golden Gate Bridge, and the people who saved Earth (except Lorne, but including Jennifer) get to stare at the bridge.
The End.
01 January 2009
may this year be nice to you
It is now 2009. 2009 is the year I will leave the dirt hole. Thus, 2009 will be a great year.
2008 was not all that bad in general. I had a friend once tell me the way you ring in the new year is how your year will go. She told me this the year after we had been in the UK together, in Glasgow, Scotland for New Years. She claimed she had been "on the move, always running" since she was in the UK and traveling. I meanwhile, was heart broken. I spent my year heart broken, I came to realize at that moment. I rang in that year asleep, if you want to be techincal, as I was in Santa Monica and did not make it to midnight. However, my state of mind was one of flux that day. I was in this strange state that year. I was graduated in May, had to find a job, had to grow up and was having issues with a boy. I had also just realized I had spent the last year heart broken and viewed my trip to Santa Monica as an escape from any problems I was having.
I am not sure I spent 2006 running away from my problems. I spent the first few months rather unhappy, but then I met my husband. He is rather wonderful, thus the year ended well. I was SO HAPPY on New Years Eve of 2006. I spent a majority of 2007 happy. I went off and got married, moved into a new life and everything was going swimingly. I had road bumbs, drama and some down time, but for the most part since my husband walked into my life I have been happy. Each year ends and I think, "Oh, that was a good year." I thought that yesterday. I was really happy, as far as I could tell nothing horrid had happened in 2008. I was pretty happy, I had a few low moments, but nothing like I used to have. I have never truely hit the same sort of lows I used to. Sometimes I feel listless, but not like I used to. The only issue with 2008 was I came to the dirt hole. With the exception of the fact it is a dirt hole and I hate dirt, its not that bad. The people I associate myself with are great and for the first time since I graduated from college I feel like I have a social life outside my husband, which I have come to realize I need at times.
So, all in all 2008 was a pretty good year.
I slept through the transition between 2008 and 2009. Just like I did with 2007 to 2008, I believe. I don't think I stayed away, I might have. But I know my husband was fast asleep. But he usually is. He does not see many midnights.
2008 was not all that bad in general. I had a friend once tell me the way you ring in the new year is how your year will go. She told me this the year after we had been in the UK together, in Glasgow, Scotland for New Years. She claimed she had been "on the move, always running" since she was in the UK and traveling. I meanwhile, was heart broken. I spent my year heart broken, I came to realize at that moment. I rang in that year asleep, if you want to be techincal, as I was in Santa Monica and did not make it to midnight. However, my state of mind was one of flux that day. I was in this strange state that year. I was graduated in May, had to find a job, had to grow up and was having issues with a boy. I had also just realized I had spent the last year heart broken and viewed my trip to Santa Monica as an escape from any problems I was having.
I am not sure I spent 2006 running away from my problems. I spent the first few months rather unhappy, but then I met my husband. He is rather wonderful, thus the year ended well. I was SO HAPPY on New Years Eve of 2006. I spent a majority of 2007 happy. I went off and got married, moved into a new life and everything was going swimingly. I had road bumbs, drama and some down time, but for the most part since my husband walked into my life I have been happy. Each year ends and I think, "Oh, that was a good year." I thought that yesterday. I was really happy, as far as I could tell nothing horrid had happened in 2008. I was pretty happy, I had a few low moments, but nothing like I used to have. I have never truely hit the same sort of lows I used to. Sometimes I feel listless, but not like I used to. The only issue with 2008 was I came to the dirt hole. With the exception of the fact it is a dirt hole and I hate dirt, its not that bad. The people I associate myself with are great and for the first time since I graduated from college I feel like I have a social life outside my husband, which I have come to realize I need at times.
So, all in all 2008 was a pretty good year.
I slept through the transition between 2008 and 2009. Just like I did with 2007 to 2008, I believe. I don't think I stayed away, I might have. But I know my husband was fast asleep. But he usually is. He does not see many midnights.
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