peejeethurteen(thezombiestory)prt.1.

Zombies. Monsters. Grenades.
Oasis. Guns. Barricades.

I've been meaning to write this one up for about a week now. One night recently, i had just gotten home from a wrestling tournament, taken my hour long shower, and collapsed onto my bed only to fall asleep immediately. Whenever i am completely worn out, i always have really epic dreams. They end up feeling like a whole day in my mind, and they feel so real, that in my head, it never even crosses my mind that it might be a dream.

Caution: the following is quite weird. (For some reason the entire thing took place in a setting which resembled Gotham city.) Come to think of it, it reminded me of this Left 4 Dead clip i saw on youtube.

So i had just finished school on a friday and everyone met up at the lockers. Sean, Kelly, Glenn and I had decided to go for a bite to eat, and then meet up with a bunch of friends at the mall.

So everyone split up. It was just us four together, and about an hour later, after we'd finished eating, we were walking in the streets. For some reason, it was ridiculously dark for that time of the day and the streets were REALLY quiet.

All of a sudden, all the lights went out in all of the buildings around us, and the only light came from the dim streetlights. It was all really movie-esque. In fact i'm pretty sure this dream came mostly from movie scenes and a couple of video games.

Mutants appeared, and i choose the word mutants because these weren't just some ordinary zombies, they were all out arms-coming-out-of-their-eyes, forked-tongues, long-sharp-talons, glowing-red eyes and everything. The didn't look anything like humans rising from the dead, but for some reason in the back of my head i knew that those "mutants" were the product of a human infestation. It's weird how in dreams there's always these things that you just know.

Scared poo-less, Sean, Kelly, Glenn and I fled before they saw us and headed straight to "Guns! Guns! Guns!" a nearby hunting store that Sean knew about thanks to his dad's hunting hobby. After a quick baseball bat to the window (don't ask me where it came from, there's a lot of continuity holes in my dreams. moretocome.), we slipped in and stocked up, filling our pockets with more than they could hold (literally. it'sadream). I think i had something like 6 handguns in the back pocket of my jeans. And a huge stock of ammo. I actually don't remember where i kept it... it was on me somewhere. And after me belting out an extremely cliche "lockandloadppl". We headed towards the oasis which we knew existed somehow.

It was a helluva journey. The entire way there, the four of us moved in a tight formation, Glenn watching our backs, Kelly and I watching the flanks and Sean taking the point. It took us something like two hours to get to the oasis, having to deal with small groups of zombies rushing at us. By the time we got near the oasis, our ammo reserves were completely depleted, and we were lucky enough to be saved by a team of people armed to their chins with machine guns and ammo, taking cover behind a 5 foot wall of sandbags.

As we ran towards them, bullets flew over our heads, mutants leaped at us from above, only to be answered with a flurry of bullets, and we ran with our eyes fixed forwards. Finally we clambered over the sandbag walls and into safety.

The oasis looked like something that had been built specifically for such a disaster. It was made of white marble, and shot high up into the sky, at least 20 stories high. It's white shine was impressive against the darkened day that surrounded it. It really did seem like a true oasis.

As soon as we entered through the main portal, the entire atmosphere changed completely. The air wasn't heavy, or musty, it was crisp and cool. And when i started to really look around and take in what was surrounding me, i realized that it could have been a beached cruise ships. There were multiple restaurants everywhere, japanese, chinese, caribbean, and every kind of specialty food you could imagine. There were dining halls, music rooms, karaoke boxes, even wrestling mats. Being inside the oasis made everything that was happening outside disappear. And i just knew that there was enough food in the place to sustain it forever. You could just relax, and go on a permanent vacation, and you'd never have to even believe in such a thing as a mutant zombie. Most imporantly, the front portal was heavily guarded. Supply rooms spanned the entire area surrounding the door, and guards with guns bigger than themselves faced the door with an unwavering stare.

Us four were dirty, sweaty, and bloody. A nice woman showed us to a vacant room and we took turns washing up in the shower, and changed into fresh clothes that were given to us. When everyone had settled down, Sean and kelly were playing cards, Glenn was lying on the bed making shapes out of the patterns on the ceiling, and i was sitting on the windowsill, staring out into the streets, littered with mutant bodies, moving and lifeless alike.

My cellphone rang. I'd forgotten that i even had it with me. It was Sally.

"Where are you guys? Do you even know what's going on? Everyone got split up at the mall, i'm with Ria, we don't know where anyone is."
"Wait, wait, calm down, are they there?"
"Whatever they are... yeah. They're everywhere"

The line went dead. By the looks on their faces, i could tell that the other three had pieced together the look on my face to figure out what had happened. I stood up and threw on my shoes, slamming the door behind me as i exited, only for it to reopen just a second later, with the three of them on my heels.

"We're going to help them, right?"

I didn't even answer Kelly, i was too busy preparing myself for what us four would have to do. But she knew what my answer was.

The supply rooms beside the front entrance gate were much bigger from the inside than how they seemed from the out. For the second time within only a few hours, we loaded ourselves far past human capacity (again, carrying physically impossible amounts of weaponry in pockets, feltlikemasterchief). We were prepared within a couple of minutes, and made our way to the gate.

The men there tried to convince us to stay within the oasis, and just wait for everything to pass. It was incredible how they could just let go of their whole worlds, and hide with their heads buried.

"I don't know how you can just sit on your asses here, while all of this is going on outside"
"Isn't there a single person that you care about out there? You're leaving them to die."
"We're not going to watch our friends die like you"

I forget exactly who said what, but Sean, Glenn and I sure told those guys off. They looked like they were completely disgusted with themselves as we walked out the door and into the dank, musty air...

>>>>>>>>>><<<<<<<<<<<

* okay so that's enough for part one. If i don't do this story in parts, you're all going to faint from boredom. There'll be more to come later. :D

Song: Cut the Curtains - Billy Talent

hecan'tbelieveit.

He's astounded.
These types of things happen to others.

He walked unlocked the door, and hobbled into the house, limping on his left leg. Every step he took sent a light jolt of pain through his calf, constantly reminding him of the muscle cramp that took him out of yesterday's wrestling practice near the end.

He couldn't complain about being unhappy. Yes, out of four matches in one day, he'd lost two, but those were to two Ontario champions, both more experienced than him, both stronger, faster, and heavier. Besides, his other two matches made him proud enough to forget his losses for the day.

"Hey bud, how was the tournament?"
"Same ol', same ol' "

His dad smiling profusely in the background, he ignored the expression and threw open the fridge for something, anything, to kill his hunger. Soy milk. Thank God. It always hit the spot. Grabbing a glass, and pouring out more than a full serving, he tapped his foot on the ground, testing out his leg. As he began to wash his cup, he became aware that his dad was still smiling profusely.

"One of my colleagues called me today."
"K."
"She's the president's secretary."
"K."
"And she called me"
"oookayyyyy."
"looking for you."
"who?"
"you."
"yoru?"
"your who?"
"not your who, yoruuuuu"
"NOT YORU, YOU."
"why..."
"well, she wanted to talk to you"
"why would she want to talk to me"
"because."
"because WHAT dad?"
"you won the scholarship"

His blank stare told his father that it had not yet processed in his brain. Five seconds later, a sound comparable to a train whistle let loose. Except it was him screaming, not a thousand pound instrument. As his cheer slowly died down, the reality only continued to sink in.

All of those hard hours that he'd worked on his application had finally turned out to pay off. Of all the children of all the Hatch employees across North America, he could say with confidence he was at least the second most impressive according to the evaluation committee. Even that was a huge morale booster to him, without the money. Of course, the money was well welcomed.

With a new energy, he raced upstairs, threw his two bags on the floor (one for wrestling, one for school. hellaheavy.), and raced back down, tripping at least thrice, but catching the railing each time. He grabbed the telephone receiver and dialed the familiar phone number he'd memorized by heart.

"heyyyyyy siiiiissstaa."
"whut."
"guess what?"
"whut."
"i got the scholarship"
"awwww! Buddy, i'm so happy for you, good job!"

Then he dialed out the other number he knew by heart.

"heyyyyyyy brooooooo"
"whut"
"guess what?"
"CHICKEN BUTT"
"no, but close... i got the scholarship!"
"doooooooooood!"

Content with himself, he treated himself to another well-deserved glass of soy milk. With a few simple conversations, his entire day had been turned around. No, his entire month. This one event lifted tons of weight off of his shoulders. Not only his, but his parents. Now they could enjoy at least a bit more of their money to themselves, and not have to use it up on their son.

For him, this meant that he was much farther ahead of schedule with his savings, and it even meant a good chance at a summer job that he hadn't dreamed of getting offered until at least the end of his first year of university. It felt to him that things were starting to actually look up for him, for once.

Finally, he smiled so wide, he felt like his cheeks would rip, and then hit his computer so as to blog away some of the overwhelming joy.

yay :D

note: all preceding conversations were almost purely fictional. I just wanted to make them more interesting. And i haven't said "chicken butt" in years.

Song: I Hate This Part - Pussycat Dolls.

abreathoffreshair.

After a long run of withdrawal, i've finally gotten my fix.
A shame it's a little bit late.

Heart Lake Secondary School in Brampton. The home of the Hurricanes. Their wrestling team is very well known in the wrestling community as one of the largest, and one of the more successful teams. In fact, three years ago, two of their grade nine boys took Ontario championship titles. That's a nearly unheard of feat. Probably due to their impressive rap, Heart Lake's annual "Hurricane Hammer Wrestling Tournament" hauls out the second most wrestlers in the region of peel every year. It's no surprise that the tournament runs from 8:30 AM to about 6:30 PM. With around 600 wrestlers, that's still impressive time.

Knowing all of this, the night before the meet, the gears were still turning fast in my head even when my body was ready to take a rest. All i could think about was what was going to happen the next day, what i didn't want to happen, what i wouldn't let happen, and what i would beat myself up for letting happen. Unfortunately, each of these topics were jam packed with substance and i didn't find sleep until around 2 AM.

Walking into a wrestling meet for me is always like being hit by a train. As soon as those gym doors open and you cross the threshold, the atmosphere changes dramatically. First of all, it physically changes (this is a kinda gross part, i'm warning you. nastysrsly.). Because of the huge numbers of wrestlers present, all pushing themselves hard on the mats, trying to stay warmed up for their match, the gym always feels like a sauna. A mixture of a ton of body heat, and like sweat in the air. Nasty i know. But nothing gets me more pumped up for a wrestling match than that kinda atmosphere. Secondly, the mental atmosphere changes too. Contrary to what you would think, everyone is generally in a pretty damn good mood at wrestling tournaments even though half of them are about to get their face ground into the mat. These two things combined are what i'm always preparing myself for the night before every meet, but it still knocked me off my feet when i opened those doors on Thursday.

Since i had gained upwards of 6 pounds over the break, i'd tragically pushed myself up into the next weight class. So when i looked at my bout sheet (it tells you who you're going to face, and when. boutsheet), i didn't know a thing about any of the people in my category... a change from knowing every single person on the sheet like usual.

The first match was against a tanked white guy with a tattoo and bigger arms than my legs. I honestly do not know how i could have possibly weighed as much as him but i wasn't so concerned about that so much as not getting my collarbone crushed when we locked up for the first time after the referee blew his whistle. Luckily for me, he was a rookie meaning i had a good technical advantage, and i was faster. After a round of 8-2 in my favour, i was feeling pretty good, and even though i had to continue backing away, i managed to take him down twice, and finish with a pin for the second round. That first win of the day made me feel pretty darn good.

The second match was against another guy with a similar build to the first guy, but he had longer hair. Again, my strength was really not my advantage, and i kept pretty far away from him, and lunged in for a shot when he tripped up. It was actually a really fun match, i used a bunch of different moves and even cross-ankled him three times in a row for the second round and match win.

The third match was not quite as good as the first two. I had been preparing myself mentally like mad for this one, because had i won it, i would have earned my way into the finals of my category, guaranteeing myself at least a silver medal. The first round was one of the most epic rounds of my life. The guy i faced (Sam. areallyniceguy), dealt with my setups really well and built off of one of my mistakes, leading to a nice trip and taking me down for one point. I had to defend pretty hard against his attempts to tilt me on the ground for two points. When the ref called us to stand back up, the score was 1-0 in his favour, and so i was desperately in need of points. Knowing this, i starting shaking him up and moving him around, looking for an openeing. Eventually i found it, and took him down as fast as i can for my one point. The ref awarded me my point with one second left on the clock. And though the score was 1-1, since i was the wrestler to have scored the last point, i won the round. The second round began pretty well for me. Since i knew how he wrestled from the first round, i knew how to act, and react, but i got too cocky, and made a move when he was still on balance. He picked up on my mistake and made me pay for it. Pinned me and won the entire match.

You could imagine i was pretty depressed after having lost when i was so close to my goal. But i realized that it was a fair match, and there really was nothing i could do now but shoot for the bronze. And i did.

I was pretty damn pissed. I threw all that energy into my next two matches, and they were easy as pie.

The first guy, before the match was talking to his friends about who he was going to be facing (me. ofcourse.). I like to kinda scope out my competition before my matches since i have nothing else better to do, and so i overheard the conversation. I ended up seeing him nod in my direction and then scoffing to his friends as if i would be an easy match up.

I made him cry.

No exageration. With his chin locked in my elbow, and my other arm bending his leg back to almost touch his head, he was lucky i wasn't holding on to his arm so as to not allow him to tap out like i usually do against the people that piss me off. Ohhhhhh how satisfying his grunt of pain and tears of shame were to me. The ref had to pull me off of him, and he shrunk away from me when we had to shake hands at the end of the match. Even his coach had a look of satisfaction on his face when i went over to shake his hand, and his remark "good job, Justin" really put the cherry on top of it all.

I promise i'm usually not this sadistic, but i don't tolerate people judging me on my wrestling ability just by looking at me, and before we've even entered the ring. I think i can safely say i made him eat his words.

The final match was for the bronze medal, and there was no way i was going to lose this one. The guy i was facing, decided he would try to psyche me out by flailing his arms all over the place and almost dancing around me. It makes me laugh every time i watch the video of this match because i was just standing there, like a rock, staring at him, and as soon as he made a move, i grabbed his chin, threw him to the ground and pinned him. It was all over in about 20 seconds.

So. At the end of the day. Even though i came out with just a bronze medal, i'm pretty proud of myself. I outwrestled two wrestlers who were much stronger than me by relying on my skill and speed, i made a last minute comeback, i taught a jerk a lesson, and i didn't allow someone to scare me on the mat. It was a good day.

To me, the medal really isn't just an award, it's actually more of a souvenir, and a reminder of everything that happened at this Heart Lake meet. The fights that i had. And that's a good thing because i don't want to forget them.

untilnexttime

Song: Headstrong - Trapt

PS. I have videos of every match that day, i just have to get a hold of them from various people. They'll probably be uploaded on facebook when i do. (it'll be nice to have some videos of me not losing on the internet for once. idowin.)

Here's some of the videos:
Match 2, Part 1
Match 2, Part 2

timber.

It came down like a flash of lightning.
In a second all the glory and splendor was absent.

My christmas tree. It was more than a little bit depressing to see it come down. And here's a confession: while i SHOULD have been helping pack away the ornaments, or heaving up the giant tupperware boxes for the lights, or sweeping the floor of stray scraps of garland, i was simply hiding in the back ground and just thinking. Thinking about all of this stuff:

A christmas tree almost always takes a much longer time to set up than to take down. Even though you have to search for all the right boxes and spots in which all the ornaments should be carefully placed, and there's extra cleaning to be done, i could swear we finished in half the time it took us to put the thing up. My hypothesis is that it all has to do with the attitude.

When the tree is being put up, everyone is nostalgic. We all take time to look at those ornaments we so dearly missed, and that remind us of the time that we ate way too much ice cream cake at Aunty Eileens the previous year. Or the giant ball ornament that doesn't even fit on your tree because your piano teacher's husband decided to go a little bit overboard three years ago. But you're thankful... My point is, all that time spent standing back to admire each and every segment of the tree takes up quite a bit of time.

And then there's the fact that it actually has to look good. Kevin and i spent about an hour just putting the lights on the tree. First of all, the stupid outlet was seemingly a mile away, with large buffet cabinets filled with fragile china, and various other objects. And then, after having dressed her all the way up to the neck, we realized that the other lights were a different colour than the first set. So if we continued on like that, we'd end up with a white bottom and a coloured head. It wouldn't have looked good. So we stripped her right down and started all over again. And then we realized that everything was tangled and one set of lights did not work, so we stripped her down all over again. Luckily the next time, we were successful. I wouldn't go so far as to say it looked good. But it was acceptable.

I'm also guessing that since the christmas tree is somewhat the symbol for the beginning of the season, to me it's kind of a time to savour. It's a good feeling putting up the tree no matter how tedious it is. And no matter how ugly i'm beginning to realize a lot of the ornaments i've made are.

Alternatively, in the removal of the tree, this sense of nostalgia has already faded away, and the action represents the ending of our holdiays. It's not quite something that one would like to draw out. It was actually pretty sad to see all the ornaments back in their boxes, the tree on the floor ready to be packed away (it's a fake tree. muchcheaper.).

It's really a shame that holidays are coming to an end but in a way i guess it's a good thing. I've been getting incredibly lazy and played around way too much. I'm sure a bit of school work will be good for me. Maybe get back into the good work habits. Not to mention it will be nice to see everyone at school again.

Hopeyourholidayswereawesome.

Song: Collide - Howie Day

fourjuicyworms.

Fingers crossed, pulse racing, penny at the ready.

High hopes, pessimist predictions, some guilty amusement.

At one of my family xmas parties, we played one of those games where everyone brings a present, and then everyone walks away with one. I'm not sure what it's called actually, it's not quite secret santa, but similar. Anyhow, since i wasn't too keen on walking out of there with one of the 7 clock radios that people had brought, or any of the bottles of wine or champagne for fear of giving relatives the wrong idea, and since the "Dark Knight" dvd, $20 Tim Horton's card, and sony headphones had all been permanently claimed, i was left with one choice. A pack of four lottery scratch tickets, and chocolate chip cookies.

Before i'm accused of being a gambler, i'm going to explain myself. If you don't know, i'm a cookie fiend, a chocolate fiend, and a chip fiend. So it would make a ton of sense that i chose the chocolate chip cookies. Right? The scratch tickets were just a bonus, and a potential fifty thousand big ones. Plus, it wasn't my money either, i couldn't lose.

I lost. Well two of the four. I ended up winning two dollars on one card, and four dollars on the other card. So half of them i won. But the cost of all the four tickets together was ten bucks. I'm pretty glad it wasn't me who paid for them. The ironic thing is, that both of the wins that i got, were on the cheaper $2 cards as opposed to the more expensive $3 ones.

I officially have a tiny bone to pick with Keno (the cards that i lost on. boounfun.). For those of you who don't know how Keno works (ie. me a couple of days ago. it'ssimple.), this is how:
You have a bank of about twenty numbers, and underneath those twenty numbers, about ten lines of random numbers, the first line with two numbers, the second with three, and so forth. As the line increases in number of numbers, so does the prize for that line. For every line you win, you get the money prize. As you scratch off the numbers in your twenty number bank, you scratch them off in the lines, and you hope for the best.

Now the reason i've got beef... is this. They gave me false hope. On both of the tickets, i was one number away from winning the jackpot. That was potentially two times fifty thousand. It's like i was the fish and they were dangling that big juicy worm right in front of my face. But i guess that's how they get everyone else to bite, right?

As for now, i'm pretty sure I won't be a big time gambler anytime soon. I've come to appreciate the amount of time i need to work for my money quite a bit, too much to just throw it away.

My older brother went to the casino last weekend, and actually came out 80 bucks over! I'm pretty impressed. I get too excited over things to be able to keep a cool enough head to gamble properly. I'm one of those people who get so excited over one win that i'd throw a thousand on the table in hopes of another big one. Good thing my brother's not like me. Calm and cool's the way to go.

I guess gambling is pretty much all about knowing when to quit. Sometimes, it's cutting your losses, and sometimes it's about calling enough, enough. Even though too much of it is most definitely a bad habit, it seems like there's a lot to be learned from gambling. A lot of times, i really wish that i had better self control.

One of these days, maybe i'll just get lucky and win the 649. Oh what i wouldn't do with 67 million. I know the first thing would be to grab a venti peppermint mocha and a mint brownie at starbuck's without feeling guilty. That would be nice.

For all of you, good luck with any gambles you encounter, but heed my warning. Even in those four tiny chump change scratch card games, it was hella fun.

maybenexttime.

If I Had a Million Dollars - The Barenaked Ladies.

vroomzoomvroom.

For the thousandth time.
Sorry to the bunch of you who already know the story.

A couple of weeks back i had just returned home from a long wrestling meet at which i had busted my lip, got my ass thrown all over the mat and stubbed my toe quite hard on a moronically placed step (it was probably actually me who was the moron for kicking it. badjustin.). Furthermore, on the bus ride home, i was subjected to long rants from a person who will remain unnamed about their various ex-girlfriends who (sorry, but it's true. mybad.) probably do not exist and therefore do not interest me. That on its own really wouldn't have bothered me that much, but having already had a pretty bad day, and being tired as hell, requiring vast amounts of shut-eye... iwaslivid.

When i parked my unreliable car on the driveway, i realized that one of the others was gone. And so i assumed that one of my parents were out. I was half right. I quickly realized due to the lack of delicious scents wafting my way from the kitchen, computerized gunshots and dramatic voices announcing a KILLING SPREE, that both of my parents happened to be absent. The first thoughts that went through my mind were:
1.
ohnoes.i'mnotgoingtohaveahugetastydinnertomakemefeelbetteraboutgettingmyasskickedtoday.
2.
ohnoes.i'mnotgoingtohaveagamingbuddyintheofficeforwheni'mplayingdota.
Fortunately, i am quite a trooper and i survived without them (i ate cereal for dinner. notacook.).

I guess i was too busy beating myself up for having done craptacularly at the tournament, or too involved in my game of dota to ask myself what exactly my parents were up to. In my mind they were just "out".

All of these things just kind of built up a quite down and depressed mood for me, and just as i was headed off to bed, my parents came in the door, with huge grins on their faces.

"Justin, we bought a car. Automatic, Mazda3sport."

umm...

Funny how a mood can just be torn to pieces in just a split seconds. I've had many moments like that before. I could be having the best of days; I just ate a cookie, i got up without feeling tired, the sun is shining... and then i get my math test back from last week. When that happens... everything else just falls away and that stupid test just consumes my mind.

or,

I could be licking away at my rolo caramel chocolate swirl sugar cone, i'm watching an episode of DBY, Rainie is smiling away... and then i drop the stupid ice cream on the floor.

Bliss turns into pissy quite quickly, but apparently, as proven by that day, pissy can be reverted to bliss as well.

"weboughtacar."

It took me about a full half minute to register that sentence in my mind. And even when i did, i heard it like this:

"weboughtYOUacar."

I was most definitely not expecting this surprise considering the crappy day i was having, but all those negative thoughts and worries were shredded up in an instant by this new arrival. After a bit of inquiry, i found out that my parents hadn't planned on buying the thing that day either. Musta been some really good salesman there, my father isn't easily swayed.

So i drove the car for the first time on monday. I tell you, for someone who's been driving a van that's as old as him (that's right, a 1991 Toyota Previa. mytrustyvan.), driving a decent car feels like you're floating on a flying nimbus cloud. Except this one had a gas pedal. It's a shame though, that the shiny, shiny exterior got all caked in slush and dirt. damnyouwinter.

I was originally gonna throw this post up the day after the news, but my dad had this great idea; that he wouldn't tell my sister or brother about the car, and let them find out themselves when they go into the garage. So, for fear of one of the two stumbling upon this little post and ruining the whole shabam, i just waited.

You should have seen their faces when they saw the car. Neither of them had a look of surprise like you'd expect, but more one of confusion. One that said "what the hell is that thing doing in our garage? but ohh... it's sexy."

that'sit.

Song: Shut up and Drive - Rihanna

chapterone.revised.

Chapter 1: Abandon

She sat in silence. The only sound was the piercing crackle of the fire before her. The flames danced like miniature crimson whips in the night, softly illuminating her young, tired face. At first, she was still, but finally she let loose a great sigh, willing the sorrow to exit her body.

The old iron gate that lay at the foot of the mountain was one of the two entrances to the village, its opposite border leading into the desert. On either side of the gate, a living wall of great oaks and vines spanned outwards beyond the reach of the eye, impenetrable by anything larger than a squirrel. In the tops of the trees ran multiple planks of wood tied down by thick cords, creating an intricate network of lookouts and posts. Ropes and vines were knotted here and there to allow mobility between the different levels of the network.

She glanced behind her through the open gate into the village, as if to verify that it was deserted, but she already knew she would find no one. It was wonderful, but saddening to see the village, that was usually teeming with energy in a state like this; completely empty and abandoned. Old barrels lay on their sides, doors were left open, broken crates littered the dirt street. And nothing moved. It was as if time had stopped.

Just hours earlier, it was children that had filled the streets and cats and dogs that were lain on their sides, their tongues suspended from their mouths, panting in the heat of the fine summer day. But the peace had been interrupted by the scout who ran like a wildcat through the open gates and into the village, searching frantically for the mayor. When he finally found him, he relayed his message as best as he could, being breathless from journey.

“I’ve come from the valley post. We’ve sighted a team of Gor making their way over the far mountain top. They are heading in our direction!”

Immediately a council was called into meeting and the elders of the village congregated in the city centre. Around them, the people buzzed with confusion, speculating at what could have occurred to require a council. The mayor took his spot, standing upon the gigantic tree stump, towering above the people that looked to him for answers. He took a moment, and then addressed the crowd with a booming, commanding voice.

“The Gor from the West are heading towards us. They are unfamiliar with our terrain, and were seen a far distance off, so, the mountain and forest will slow their advance, but we are still left with only hours before they will arrive here. We cannot stand and fight. Our only option is to flee to the east. We do not have much time. Gather only what you need and we will leave immediately..”

She looked to the hills, where a ripple of movement was passing quickly through the trees. But the wind was not blowing. Suddenly the realization set in. They have arrived she thought to herself as tremors of fear shot through her body, shaking her to the core. She reached for her lance and took hold of it. The cool steel slipped comfortably into her grasp. With her lance pointed the night sky, she looked to the mountaintop, ready.

Song: Lies - Billy Talent

firstmeet.

Butterflies, shivers, lip-biting, pre-game rituals.
And i'm still a little rusty.

Tommorow is the first wrestling meet of the year for me, and by the looks of it, it's probably going to be one of very few that i will be going to all year.

Unfortunately for me, i already get really antsy about all meets that i go to. This one being the first and one of the few makes it all the more daunting. Honestly, i could barely think about anything else all day long, nothing broke my trance, not the lack of chocolate i had at lunch (which would normally be traumatic. yahsrsly.), not the boring, boring french class assignment.

If you had paid close attention to me today (which i'm glad no one actually did. thankgoodness.) you would have seen me biting me lip, biting my nails, biting my skin, biting nearly everything except for my hair, which i woulda bitten had it been long enough. My knee bounced violently, my eyes were vacant, my hands were shaking, and my voice cracked about a hundred times.

I admit, i'm a bit hard on myself when it comes to certain things. Wrestling just so happens to be one of those things. It's one of the things i'm most proud of. I think it's mostly because it's a skill that most people don't have, and so being a decent wrestler, it makes me feel even just a little special. Furthermore, as Glenn once said to someone to describe my relationship with wrestling (i forget who. ohwells.), wrestling is my escape. There are few things in my life that help me just forget everything. When i'm wrestling, i'm so concentrated, so focused that everything just falls away.

So, i am very hard on myself about wrestling. If i get beaten by someone whom i know i could have beaten, if i try a move and fail, if i win for a stupid reason, it keeps me up at night. And that's no joke. The moment just plays over and over again in my mind. And until i can figure out what i could have done differently to change it, it just keeps going. Then the thought of what i could have done haunts me.

So right now, i'm just doing my best to keep my nerves down. I'm relaxing, playing piano, guitar, DOTA, drinking coffee, tea, pop, eating ice cream, and obviously blogging. It's helping. I'm still nervous and everything, but you do what you can right?

Well, here's hoping for the best for tommorow .

pleasepleasedowelljubs.

song: In the Sun - Arthur something.

detroit/detroy.

Sore feet, an empty wallet, and a full car.
I think my work is done here.

So, i'm nearing the end of my detroit shopping trip. I'm just about to head off to bed, after a long day of mall-wallking. Tommorow, after grabbing our complimentary breakfast (YES.YES.YES. freecoffee.) we're going to one last department store, and then we're gonna call it quits.

Over the past two days, i've been to Lakeside, Somerset, Great Lakes, Partridge Creek, 12 Rivers (well, 12 something. ikindaforget) and a collection of other department stores, book stores, whole sale stores... It's pretty amazing how many places you can get to when you plan out your day.

We planned out each day before even getting started, which i found a little bit too military-esque, but it proved effective in the end. If we hadn't set about a 4 or 5 hour limit per mall, i'd probably still be in the first one right now. I'm not an obsessive shopper, but once i get started, and the momentum kicks in, i can go for quite a while.

Of the two days, Friday was much better, and also much worse. The sales on Friday, American Thanksgiving, were much more drastic, and so the crowds were much more dense, animated, and not to mention obnoxious. As my Dad described it, it seemed like people had the mentality that simply saying "excuse me" gives one the right to trample any amount of human bodies that would please them. What i saw on friday would only support that idea.

Even so, the picture i had in my mind of how it would be was nothing like it actually was. Just from all the talk i've heard about "Black Friday", i kind of had the picture of multitudes of people performing death strikes on each other's Xephoid Processes in a frenzy to obtain the last 99% off A&F scarf. Unfortunately, the vast majority of the crowd were not in posession of a 9th degree blackbelt in ninjutsu, people were not extremely violent, and A&F having any sort of sale whatsoever would have meant the end of the world.

Somehow, through the crowds, i was able to make my rounds through the shops, and make it to the rendezvous point unharmed and on-time. And i did it solo. Oh what a shopper i have become.

Anyways, it was great fun, and i think that any of you guys would have enjoyed it just as much as i did. I discovered some new shops and brands that i'll have to remember about for next time. andnowi'mtired.

BTW.

spentlessthanahundredbucks.

song: none, my dad is snoring away behind me, wouldn't want to interrupt that.

paychecks.

Crippled paycheck plus Justin plus shopping trip...
is equal to disaster.

So i might have already blogged about a badly written paycheck that i received last month from my job... i'm not sure, and i'm too lazy to check. So bear with me kay?

Well, quite unfortunately, i recieved another check last week which was off by quite a large sum of hard earned dollars. In short, it really ticked me off. All modestly aside for a moment, i work my ass off at that place, i have to leave home 2 mins after i get home from school just to be at work on time, and then when everyone else has two guarding shifts, i have none. Not to mention the 5-7 year olds are almost all handed to me. They're pretty much the worst age group to teach. Finally, after i've finished my teaching, i'm expected to do chores around the pool, which take up about 40 mins and we're only paid 20 mins of. Nevertheless, i still make the place shine. By the time i get home, it's 9 pm.

I love my job. It's pretty fun most of the time, even with a lot of the shortcomings, but i do believe that i've earned my money, and i should really get every penny that i've earned. I think i deserve it. Therefore, i'll fight for it, however many dollars i'm missing. The thing is, i really hate begging for money.

Whether a friend owes me some money, or in a case like this, i am almost incapable of asking for money, even though i do deserve it. Something about begging for money just rubs me the wrong way. It makes me seem like a desperate hobo to my boss, and i would prefer to not be laballed as "the pool's hoBo."

Anyhow, i just cashed my check because i figured i would need the cash very soon . ie. in the states, where i'm going for this weekend. somewhere that you can obtain some moneys.

The bad part of going to detroit is that we're doing it soley for the shopping.

Shopping is quite difficult activity to take part in when one does not have any cash. I'm gonna try hard not to spend extensive amounts of money but i'm not sure if i can contain myself.
(yumturkey.).

Listened to : Lucky - Jason Mraz