Churches
Well, I promised you stories.
These past couple of days have been very long; I've been working overtime, and apparently for no reason. I got very frustrated today when I realized that I'd been working overtime for the wrong project. But it's okay, because I got to go get comics today with Ted. Huzzah! I've started reading something new, that looks actually pretty intriguing... it's called Wasteland, and I think I like it. At least, it has made me want to buy the second.
Went to Mass on Tuesday; it was good, but I'm not a huge fan of Father Paul. Father Pat is a much better preacher. For some reason, his voice makes you want to listen. Also, I'm feeling more and more drawn to St. Thomas the Apostle, the community parish just down the street from me. I think maybe tomorrow morning I'll wake up a little early and see about their daily Mass. I can't afford to be late to work, which it would undoubtedly make me, but given a little time I could perhaps shuffle things around. Truth be told, I know nothing about the place, except that their statue of Mary has now been vandalized for the second time. I stopped to show it to Matthias as he was walking me home... There in the dark, with the lights bright on the white stone, I felt more than a little uneasy to be standing before a statue of the Blessed Mother without her head. I gave Matthias my rosary to keep with him on his way home.
I promised you explosions, didn't I? Well, it's like this...
It was a Monday afternoon, and I was tired. Work was wearing me out for some reason; I suppose I hadn't gotten over the residual laziness of the weekend. Or perhaps my work at the OI is not as interesting as the location might suggest. In any event, I got sick of things there, and decided to go home a little early. I didn't call anyone on my way home; where I would usually phone Ted or Matthias to see if either wanted to play some video games or watch a movie, I instead kept my phone in my pocket and decided I'd like an afternoon to myself. I was feeling a little brooding, because Matthias and I were having some difficulties - mostly arising from the fact that I had been under stress and was constantly snappish.
I arrived home to find the apartment empty, at which point I did what any red-blooded American nerd teen would do: I sat down at my computer. While browsing the Internet, I heard a pop, and felt my computer jump. Looking around behind the screen, I didn't see anything out of place; I assumed something had simply fallen over and I had felt the "thump" through the desk. A few minutes later, the sound and the sensation repeated themselves on the order of three or four times in rapid succession. As my battery hadn't been taking a charge for a while, I immediately assumed that it was a likely problem. I unplugged the computer in one swatting motion while at the same time flipping it over to access the battery. I put my fingers on the battery to pull it out, but a half-second into the process, I realized that my fingers were burning. I grabbed a t-shirt and used it as a potholder of sorts to remove the battery, which I then laid on my desk.
At this point, I called Dad to inform him that my laptop battery was now broken for real, and I needed a new one even more now than I had before. Wandering out of the room, I continued conversing with him about... well, whatever the hell it is he and I talk about. While I was in the kitchen - right next door to my bedroom - I heard a thump, and wandered back to investigate. From my position in the doorway, I could see the battery on the floor next to my desk, and assumed that it had simply fallen off. I was just turning to walk back to the kitchen when I heard an explosion.
The rest of the event, up until I smothered the flames, runs through my memory in flashes, as I was alternatively standing panicked and fighting the very active urge to run away. I saw red flames and a shower of red sparks erupt from the battery, which was sitting right in front of my desktop computer. The USB cables for my floppy drive and iPod were burning. Then the battery exploded again, at which point I ducked my head, and the next image I see is of the battery lodged against the doorframe, next to my foot. There are burning pieces of God-knows-what spread over my floor. Thick, vile-smelling, harsh black smoke is billowing up from the battery. I can't see my ceiling, and the flames are licking the wire racks that hold my tea and my comic books. I've been screaming with each explosion, but otherwise attempting to keep calm and listen to my father's advice; he's still on the phone. My next image is searching for (and not finding, although apparently we had one) a fire extinguisher; after hearing more explosions, I return to my room to see more burning pieces on my floor and more sparks. Next I'm grabbing my roommate's towels and wetting them in the shower; then I'm dropping them on the battery and watching smoke curl out from under the edges. I'm horrified that the water might react with the lithium, and for any number of reasons, refuse to touch the battery when my father tells me I should. At this point memory slows down to a little more of a real-time approach.
I lifted up a corner of the towel, and smoke curled out. I promptly dropped the towel and ran to the kitchen for my first breath of fresh air. On Dad's advice I picked up the mess of towels and battery and threw it in the bathtub. Despite it being a poor idea, I turned the shower on. After making sure I'm okay, Dad hung up the phone and I went out to the back balcony, when adrenaline kicks in. Despite the difficulties we'd been having, Matthias came straightaway, and took the towels and battery to the dumpster for me.
For the next few days, things were a mess. Every time I heard a thump or hiss my heart would pound. I arrived at my friend Ted's for dinner that night to discover that I was still up to my elbows in soot. I later discovered the same soot lining the inside of my nose, and later still discovered it carpeting every surface in my room. I had to wash everything and scrub everything. The smell was everywhere. When I finally got the floor cleaned up, I discovered deep burn marks. My white wire racks are now gray, as is the wall behind them. My bass amp is melted up one side where it caught fire. Any strange noise, especially an unexpected one made by a computer, still makes me jump, despite the fact that all of this happened a month ago (yes, well before the Dell recalls).
Still, it makes a damn fine story, and any of you out there that know me can tell that I just enjoyed the hell out of telling it. :-D
Coming up: Long Branch, New Jersey! I promise, it's a much happier, if less action-packed, story.
These past couple of days have been very long; I've been working overtime, and apparently for no reason. I got very frustrated today when I realized that I'd been working overtime for the wrong project. But it's okay, because I got to go get comics today with Ted. Huzzah! I've started reading something new, that looks actually pretty intriguing... it's called Wasteland, and I think I like it. At least, it has made me want to buy the second.
Went to Mass on Tuesday; it was good, but I'm not a huge fan of Father Paul. Father Pat is a much better preacher. For some reason, his voice makes you want to listen. Also, I'm feeling more and more drawn to St. Thomas the Apostle, the community parish just down the street from me. I think maybe tomorrow morning I'll wake up a little early and see about their daily Mass. I can't afford to be late to work, which it would undoubtedly make me, but given a little time I could perhaps shuffle things around. Truth be told, I know nothing about the place, except that their statue of Mary has now been vandalized for the second time. I stopped to show it to Matthias as he was walking me home... There in the dark, with the lights bright on the white stone, I felt more than a little uneasy to be standing before a statue of the Blessed Mother without her head. I gave Matthias my rosary to keep with him on his way home.
I promised you explosions, didn't I? Well, it's like this...
It was a Monday afternoon, and I was tired. Work was wearing me out for some reason; I suppose I hadn't gotten over the residual laziness of the weekend. Or perhaps my work at the OI is not as interesting as the location might suggest. In any event, I got sick of things there, and decided to go home a little early. I didn't call anyone on my way home; where I would usually phone Ted or Matthias to see if either wanted to play some video games or watch a movie, I instead kept my phone in my pocket and decided I'd like an afternoon to myself. I was feeling a little brooding, because Matthias and I were having some difficulties - mostly arising from the fact that I had been under stress and was constantly snappish.
I arrived home to find the apartment empty, at which point I did what any red-blooded American nerd teen would do: I sat down at my computer. While browsing the Internet, I heard a pop, and felt my computer jump. Looking around behind the screen, I didn't see anything out of place; I assumed something had simply fallen over and I had felt the "thump" through the desk. A few minutes later, the sound and the sensation repeated themselves on the order of three or four times in rapid succession. As my battery hadn't been taking a charge for a while, I immediately assumed that it was a likely problem. I unplugged the computer in one swatting motion while at the same time flipping it over to access the battery. I put my fingers on the battery to pull it out, but a half-second into the process, I realized that my fingers were burning. I grabbed a t-shirt and used it as a potholder of sorts to remove the battery, which I then laid on my desk.
At this point, I called Dad to inform him that my laptop battery was now broken for real, and I needed a new one even more now than I had before. Wandering out of the room, I continued conversing with him about... well, whatever the hell it is he and I talk about. While I was in the kitchen - right next door to my bedroom - I heard a thump, and wandered back to investigate. From my position in the doorway, I could see the battery on the floor next to my desk, and assumed that it had simply fallen off. I was just turning to walk back to the kitchen when I heard an explosion.
The rest of the event, up until I smothered the flames, runs through my memory in flashes, as I was alternatively standing panicked and fighting the very active urge to run away. I saw red flames and a shower of red sparks erupt from the battery, which was sitting right in front of my desktop computer. The USB cables for my floppy drive and iPod were burning. Then the battery exploded again, at which point I ducked my head, and the next image I see is of the battery lodged against the doorframe, next to my foot. There are burning pieces of God-knows-what spread over my floor. Thick, vile-smelling, harsh black smoke is billowing up from the battery. I can't see my ceiling, and the flames are licking the wire racks that hold my tea and my comic books. I've been screaming with each explosion, but otherwise attempting to keep calm and listen to my father's advice; he's still on the phone. My next image is searching for (and not finding, although apparently we had one) a fire extinguisher; after hearing more explosions, I return to my room to see more burning pieces on my floor and more sparks. Next I'm grabbing my roommate's towels and wetting them in the shower; then I'm dropping them on the battery and watching smoke curl out from under the edges. I'm horrified that the water might react with the lithium, and for any number of reasons, refuse to touch the battery when my father tells me I should. At this point memory slows down to a little more of a real-time approach.
I lifted up a corner of the towel, and smoke curled out. I promptly dropped the towel and ran to the kitchen for my first breath of fresh air. On Dad's advice I picked up the mess of towels and battery and threw it in the bathtub. Despite it being a poor idea, I turned the shower on. After making sure I'm okay, Dad hung up the phone and I went out to the back balcony, when adrenaline kicks in. Despite the difficulties we'd been having, Matthias came straightaway, and took the towels and battery to the dumpster for me.
For the next few days, things were a mess. Every time I heard a thump or hiss my heart would pound. I arrived at my friend Ted's for dinner that night to discover that I was still up to my elbows in soot. I later discovered the same soot lining the inside of my nose, and later still discovered it carpeting every surface in my room. I had to wash everything and scrub everything. The smell was everywhere. When I finally got the floor cleaned up, I discovered deep burn marks. My white wire racks are now gray, as is the wall behind them. My bass amp is melted up one side where it caught fire. Any strange noise, especially an unexpected one made by a computer, still makes me jump, despite the fact that all of this happened a month ago (yes, well before the Dell recalls).
Still, it makes a damn fine story, and any of you out there that know me can tell that I just enjoyed the hell out of telling it. :-D
Coming up: Long Branch, New Jersey! I promise, it's a much happier, if less action-packed, story.