*sirens blare*
Warning! Mind dump time!
On Canada, several weeks late.
Canada was lovely and relaxing and lovely and there really are no more words. We left on July twenty-first, right after my friend Kelila's wedding, planning to stop for the night once we got past Boston. Nu-uh. Boston had no hotels near it, so we keep driving. Head through New Hampshire - nothing. We didn't get a hotel until we hit Maine at three-thirty am. Ugh.
Day two everything goes fine. We crossed the border around noon. New Brunswick was impressive - there were these mountains that from were pine trees from peak to peak, as far as the eye could see. It smelled like Christmas. I was pleased.
We got to Prince Edward Island at about nine thirty...spent the next hour being Lost, a common family vacation pasttime. In some ways it was bad. I hate being lost. In other ways it was good. We found the Tim Horton's in the town on the first night! +10points.
We didn't really do much else the next day other than go grocery shopping for the cabin. Milk was $6 a gallon. I was not thrilled. Also, the cable was funny - not much, at all, though I did get to see Doctor Who. Curtis went swimming, but I didn't feel like it so I stayed onshore and made a sand turtle that swiftly mutated into a sand elephant. Yeah, I dunno either.
We went canoing (canoeing? That's a weird word.) the next day. For, like...five hours straight. I am a wimp. My arms hurt sooo bad, and I managed to get a sunburn on the ONE PART of me that I forgot to put sunscreen on: my forehead. It was read, the rest of my face was tan and then my neck was white. I was multicolored! We went and saw a lighthouse, too, but by that time I was all hot and hungry and tired, and they had one of those windmill farms. I hate those things. I dunno why, exactly, they just freak me out. I preferred looking at the ocean. I love the ocean. I could live on a houseboat, I think.
We went to Cavendish next. I got to see where Anne of Green Gables was written. We then avoided everything else that was Anne related, since it's pretty much the biggest tourist trap. The gardens at the place were beautiful - wild without looking like they were completely out of control...
Cavendish Beach was...odd. There were jellyfish everywhere. I DISAPPROVE OF JELLYFISH. I swam for about half an hour, and then the jellyfish were too much, I had to flee. So I went back to the beach and watched the waves and the people and had a lovely Ray Bradbury/The X-Files-esque daydream that involved people disappearing into fogbanks that randomly appeared at sea. I rather liked this daydream, and wanted to get back to the car to write it down...the particulars were gone by the time I did, though. :( I think I got the mood right, though. It might show up in my nano, I dunno.
The next day we wound up at a different beach - much nicer: less crowded, and (more importantly) less jellyfish. I don't remember what else we did that day, though. Go figure.
The next day we went to another lighthouse (YAY INTERNET. I got to email Steph to get my schedule and find out that someone had posted in a thread somewhere that I desperately wanted to read but that the web browser refused to open. D: ). By this time I had finished every single book I'd brought. It was Thursday. Not good! We went swimming again that night. Or, rather, Mom and Curtis did. Dad stayed in his car and played with his HAM radio (Oh man. 'CQ, CQ, CQ, Hello CQ, this is N3AYY Portable VY2, November Three Alpha Yankee Yankee, Portable Yankee Two, N3AYY Portable VY2 calling CQ and Standing By,' will be etched into my brain FOREVER). Theresa and I just waded and collected shells and talked to the nice guy from Ontario who was there with his wife and kids. We also saw a seal!
...I really remember nothing of Friday, either. Or Saturday, other than packing and buying Watership Down. The next two days were just driving driving and more driving...and then we were home. It took us an hour and a half to get through the customs back to Maine, and while I am now addicted to Tim Horton's again, I do not like the Big Pizza Chain they had there. I can't remember the name of it now, but it was just BLEAH.
Driving home was...interesting. Maine felt like the Twilight Zone. "Here. The state has gotten bigger since you entered, and will keep growing as you try to get out. Have a nice day." I felt horrid all through New Hampshire: the mountains were beautiful, but my ribs and stomach hurt so it was mostly lost on me. :( Vermont was as pretty (and desolate) as I remembered.
We stayed in Connecticut at the Most Bizarre Red Roof Inn ever. It was populated entirely (or so it seemed) by marauding gangs of teenagers who were not together but knew each other. I stood outside and talked to Julie until her phone died. Oops. Next morning, Theresa and I sat in the car for FOR.EV.ER. while Dad, Mom and Curtis tromped through A.R.R.L's headquarters. We played with the cell phones, the cameras and the radios all the while complaining about being hungry. Ah, yes, I am so mature. I think I texted Steph about wanting to but a teleport home.
And then next thing I know we are home. It was a very nice week - I did nothing productive whatsoever, but it felt good to do so. :)
On Buses and NaNoWriMo, several months early.
Then we get home and what do I have to try to do? Bus. Figure out the buses in Downtown Lancaster. THAT was a comedy of errors, but we got it worked out, and a good thing, too. School starts Monday. I think I like buses, though, It gave me the idea for my NaNoWriMo this year.
OzymandiusJones (12:05:33 AM): I have the most random ideas sometimes
OzymandiusJones (12:05:36 AM): like this year
OzymandiusJones (12:06:31 AM): I was listening to my iPod on the bus and it started playing Loreena McKennit's "The Stolen Child" just as we crossed the traintracks
OzymandiusJones (12:07:10 AM): and that song starts with a pack of dogs barking, and is very celtic...so I started thinking about what modern "Laylines" would be like.
OzymandiusJones (12:07:50 AM): if, instead of some form of unclassified mystical energy or whathaveyou, they followed transportation routes like train lines and bus routes and stuff like that.
Gilly (12:08:59 AM): *nods*
OzymandiusJones (12:09:24 AM): so I thought up a world where things like that are haunted by packs of ghostdogs
OzymandiusJones (12:10:44 AM): and I dunno much other than that, other than most people don't like the ghost dogs except for the character who might be the main character but still might not be named Jacob [NoLastNameYet]....he plays with them, and in exchange they give him magic (and have sucked the color out of his eyes and hair for his troubles).
Gilly (12:12:55 AM): *nods*
Gilly (12:15:16 AM): I say go for it
OzymandiusJones (12:15:31 AM): I like the idea...
OzymandiusJones (12:15:42 AM): now I just want to work out a design for the ghost dogs...
There is more to the story than that, but still. that's where it started. Only three months! Eee!
On LOST.
I also thought of something the other night.
The episode Catch-22 was Desmond-centric, revolving around his time at a monastery in the Flashbacks and his struggles with his visions of Charlie's death in the present. Desmond sees a vision where (he believes) his beloved Penny is coming to the Island, but before the point in the dream where Penny arrives, Charlie dies. Desmond believes that changing one scene in his vision, one "piece of a puzzle," will change all the others. So Desmond, for once, almost lets Charlie die out of his desperation to see Penny again. His struggles with "sacrificing" Charlie like this is compounded by what he learned in the monastery right before being ejected: the story of Abraham and Isaac on Mt. Moriah, and how Isaac's sacrifice was a test.
Desmond, at the last moment, caves in and saves Charlie once again. Whether or not what Desmond believes - that changing one thing changes them all - is true, the rest of the vision doesn't happen like it did when Desmond saw it. Penny doesn't arrive - someone else does, someone far more sinister (though they don't know that yet).
SO. I think that the events of Catch 22 were whatever force is meddling with the Losties way of teaching CHARLIE a lesson and using Desmond to do it. Charlie learned - witnessed - what Desmond believed would happen: change one thing, change it all. So when Desmond tells him, "This time you're gonna have to die," when he tells him of the helicopeter coming and taking Claire and Aaron, it's not Des who convinces Charlie. It's Charlie. Saving Charlie the first time made the woman be Naomi, not Penny. So, would saving Charlie this time change the future, write the helicopter out of it?
So all the people who say Des brainwashed Charlie into needlessly dying: Charlie sacrificed himself to have Desmond's vision unfold the way he saw. I love Charlie too, but don't cheapen the death scene by making light of what Charlie learned, or by blaming it on Desmond that way. Hmph.
On new screennames.
Last but not least: starting Monday, I will be spending a lot of free time on campus. I have an alternate AIM screenname for use on campus. If you see it, that means I want you on the list, but a few stipulations apply:
If you are from an RP, if I am on this screenname: Do not ask to RP.
If you are from MMM and I am on this screenname: Do NOT ask me to battle, even if it shows up in a battle chat.
If I am on that screenname, it means I want to talk, and talk alone. Thanks, and feel free to add. :)
The name is Bouncyphant. Add at will.
ANNNNNYWAYS. I still have to clean. D: Later, gaters, have a good night.
On Canada, several weeks late.
Canada was lovely and relaxing and lovely and there really are no more words. We left on July twenty-first, right after my friend Kelila's wedding, planning to stop for the night once we got past Boston. Nu-uh. Boston had no hotels near it, so we keep driving. Head through New Hampshire - nothing. We didn't get a hotel until we hit Maine at three-thirty am. Ugh.
Day two everything goes fine. We crossed the border around noon. New Brunswick was impressive - there were these mountains that from were pine trees from peak to peak, as far as the eye could see. It smelled like Christmas. I was pleased.
We got to Prince Edward Island at about nine thirty...spent the next hour being Lost, a common family vacation pasttime. In some ways it was bad. I hate being lost. In other ways it was good. We found the Tim Horton's in the town on the first night! +10points.
We didn't really do much else the next day other than go grocery shopping for the cabin. Milk was $6 a gallon. I was not thrilled. Also, the cable was funny - not much, at all, though I did get to see Doctor Who. Curtis went swimming, but I didn't feel like it so I stayed onshore and made a sand turtle that swiftly mutated into a sand elephant. Yeah, I dunno either.
We went canoing (canoeing? That's a weird word.) the next day. For, like...five hours straight. I am a wimp. My arms hurt sooo bad, and I managed to get a sunburn on the ONE PART of me that I forgot to put sunscreen on: my forehead. It was read, the rest of my face was tan and then my neck was white. I was multicolored! We went and saw a lighthouse, too, but by that time I was all hot and hungry and tired, and they had one of those windmill farms. I hate those things. I dunno why, exactly, they just freak me out. I preferred looking at the ocean. I love the ocean. I could live on a houseboat, I think.
We went to Cavendish next. I got to see where Anne of Green Gables was written. We then avoided everything else that was Anne related, since it's pretty much the biggest tourist trap. The gardens at the place were beautiful - wild without looking like they were completely out of control...
Cavendish Beach was...odd. There were jellyfish everywhere. I DISAPPROVE OF JELLYFISH. I swam for about half an hour, and then the jellyfish were too much, I had to flee. So I went back to the beach and watched the waves and the people and had a lovely Ray Bradbury/The X-Files-esque daydream that involved people disappearing into fogbanks that randomly appeared at sea. I rather liked this daydream, and wanted to get back to the car to write it down...the particulars were gone by the time I did, though. :( I think I got the mood right, though. It might show up in my nano, I dunno.
The next day we wound up at a different beach - much nicer: less crowded, and (more importantly) less jellyfish. I don't remember what else we did that day, though. Go figure.
The next day we went to another lighthouse (YAY INTERNET. I got to email Steph to get my schedule and find out that someone had posted in a thread somewhere that I desperately wanted to read but that the web browser refused to open. D: ). By this time I had finished every single book I'd brought. It was Thursday. Not good! We went swimming again that night. Or, rather, Mom and Curtis did. Dad stayed in his car and played with his HAM radio (Oh man. 'CQ, CQ, CQ, Hello CQ, this is N3AYY Portable VY2, November Three Alpha Yankee Yankee, Portable Yankee Two, N3AYY Portable VY2 calling CQ and Standing By,' will be etched into my brain FOREVER). Theresa and I just waded and collected shells and talked to the nice guy from Ontario who was there with his wife and kids. We also saw a seal!
...I really remember nothing of Friday, either. Or Saturday, other than packing and buying Watership Down. The next two days were just driving driving and more driving...and then we were home. It took us an hour and a half to get through the customs back to Maine, and while I am now addicted to Tim Horton's again, I do not like the Big Pizza Chain they had there. I can't remember the name of it now, but it was just BLEAH.
Driving home was...interesting. Maine felt like the Twilight Zone. "Here. The state has gotten bigger since you entered, and will keep growing as you try to get out. Have a nice day." I felt horrid all through New Hampshire: the mountains were beautiful, but my ribs and stomach hurt so it was mostly lost on me. :( Vermont was as pretty (and desolate) as I remembered.
We stayed in Connecticut at the Most Bizarre Red Roof Inn ever. It was populated entirely (or so it seemed) by marauding gangs of teenagers who were not together but knew each other. I stood outside and talked to Julie until her phone died. Oops. Next morning, Theresa and I sat in the car for FOR.EV.ER. while Dad, Mom and Curtis tromped through A.R.R.L's headquarters. We played with the cell phones, the cameras and the radios all the while complaining about being hungry. Ah, yes, I am so mature. I think I texted Steph about wanting to but a teleport home.
And then next thing I know we are home. It was a very nice week - I did nothing productive whatsoever, but it felt good to do so. :)
On Buses and NaNoWriMo, several months early.
Then we get home and what do I have to try to do? Bus. Figure out the buses in Downtown Lancaster. THAT was a comedy of errors, but we got it worked out, and a good thing, too. School starts Monday. I think I like buses, though, It gave me the idea for my NaNoWriMo this year.
OzymandiusJones (12:05:33 AM): I have the most random ideas sometimes
OzymandiusJones (12:05:36 AM): like this year
OzymandiusJones (12:06:31 AM): I was listening to my iPod on the bus and it started playing Loreena McKennit's "The Stolen Child" just as we crossed the traintracks
OzymandiusJones (12:07:10 AM): and that song starts with a pack of dogs barking, and is very celtic...so I started thinking about what modern "Laylines" would be like.
OzymandiusJones (12:07:50 AM): if, instead of some form of unclassified mystical energy or whathaveyou, they followed transportation routes like train lines and bus routes and stuff like that.
Gilly (12:08:59 AM): *nods*
OzymandiusJones (12:09:24 AM): so I thought up a world where things like that are haunted by packs of ghostdogs
OzymandiusJones (12:10:44 AM): and I dunno much other than that, other than most people don't like the ghost dogs except for the character who might be the main character but still might not be named Jacob [NoLastNameYet]....he plays with them, and in exchange they give him magic (and have sucked the color out of his eyes and hair for his troubles).
Gilly (12:12:55 AM): *nods*
Gilly (12:15:16 AM): I say go for it
OzymandiusJones (12:15:31 AM): I like the idea...
OzymandiusJones (12:15:42 AM): now I just want to work out a design for the ghost dogs...
There is more to the story than that, but still. that's where it started. Only three months! Eee!
On LOST.
I also thought of something the other night.
The episode Catch-22 was Desmond-centric, revolving around his time at a monastery in the Flashbacks and his struggles with his visions of Charlie's death in the present. Desmond sees a vision where (he believes) his beloved Penny is coming to the Island, but before the point in the dream where Penny arrives, Charlie dies. Desmond believes that changing one scene in his vision, one "piece of a puzzle," will change all the others. So Desmond, for once, almost lets Charlie die out of his desperation to see Penny again. His struggles with "sacrificing" Charlie like this is compounded by what he learned in the monastery right before being ejected: the story of Abraham and Isaac on Mt. Moriah, and how Isaac's sacrifice was a test.
Desmond, at the last moment, caves in and saves Charlie once again. Whether or not what Desmond believes - that changing one thing changes them all - is true, the rest of the vision doesn't happen like it did when Desmond saw it. Penny doesn't arrive - someone else does, someone far more sinister (though they don't know that yet).
SO. I think that the events of Catch 22 were whatever force is meddling with the Losties way of teaching CHARLIE a lesson and using Desmond to do it. Charlie learned - witnessed - what Desmond believed would happen: change one thing, change it all. So when Desmond tells him, "This time you're gonna have to die," when he tells him of the helicopeter coming and taking Claire and Aaron, it's not Des who convinces Charlie. It's Charlie. Saving Charlie the first time made the woman be Naomi, not Penny. So, would saving Charlie this time change the future, write the helicopter out of it?
So all the people who say Des brainwashed Charlie into needlessly dying: Charlie sacrificed himself to have Desmond's vision unfold the way he saw. I love Charlie too, but don't cheapen the death scene by making light of what Charlie learned, or by blaming it on Desmond that way. Hmph.
On new screennames.
Last but not least: starting Monday, I will be spending a lot of free time on campus. I have an alternate AIM screenname for use on campus. If you see it, that means I want you on the list, but a few stipulations apply:
If you are from an RP, if I am on this screenname: Do not ask to RP.
If you are from MMM and I am on this screenname: Do NOT ask me to battle, even if it shows up in a battle chat.
If I am on that screenname, it means I want to talk, and talk alone. Thanks, and feel free to add. :)
The name is Bouncyphant. Add at will.
ANNNNNYWAYS. I still have to clean. D: Later, gaters, have a good night.