Irish Goodbye

Prompt #14 "Describe yourself in the third person - your physical appearance and personality - as though you were a character in a book."

One of the first thing you'll notice about Kyle is how unnoticeable he is, and that he very much prefers it that way. He's always had what could be loosely called a talent for entering or exiting a room without others noticing. He's the kind person that will be almost directly behind you when you ask where he is. It's not with ill intent or impish pride that he does this, most of the time, it's just how things work. He's an observer more than a participant. He'll usually know more about you than you know about him, although he may call you by the wrong name. Due to his going unnoticed, he usually hears more than you think he does, and definitely more than he cares to.

His clothing these days is made of any combination of shirts from different colleges, a well-worn jacket, work clothes, and a button-up (if it's Sunday). He would 'dress to impress' if 'cords I can afford' didn't override that desire almost all of the time. He enjoys fall more than any other season, though, as he works better with layers.

He hates talking about himself. If he ever had to stand in front of a crowd and explain himself, or heaven forbid he have to put it into writing on the internet (the most permanent of permanents), he would absolutely hate every second of it.

For the most part, he can be accurately described by one of his most commonly said phrases:

"Don't worry about it."

Example Conversation with Kyle:

Your friend: "Have you seen Kyle?"

You: "He's around here somewhere."

Kyle: "Right here."

You: "Oh! See?"

Your friend: "Oh weird we walked right past him."

You. "Yeah. Ready to go, Kyle?"

Kyle: "Yep."

You: "Alright, we just need to pick our stuff up from- Oh. He's gone."

Your friend: "Wow that's creepy, how does he do that?"

Kyle: "Don't worry about it."

You & Friend: *Scream*

Glitter Time Bomb

Prompt #13 "Pick a small object to be given one day to your great-grandchild. Write a letter to that child explaining why you have chosen this object."

Dear Great-Grandson/daughter,

I do not know whether or not you have ever met me at this time, as I'm writing this letter before you are even born. I'm sure you have a lot of questions, such as:
"Why did the election of 2016 end the way it did?"
"Why were there radio and tv stations after Free World Wifi was made?"
"What's the true story about the missing island of Alaska?"
But I would be willing to wager the most pressing question on your mind is:
"Why was there a half pound of fine glitter in this letter?"

Well, kid, I know that you've probably only ever heard good things about me, but the truth is, I am not perfect. I know, I know. World-shattering. Unfortunately, one of my flaws is a desire to be remembered. Now, that isn't necessarily a bad desire. You can want to be remembered and have good reason behind it. Maybe you want to be the person that cures cancer, saves an endangered species, or invents a mosquito repellant that actually works. On the other hand, you could be a vindictive, evil person and want to create a new cancer, endanger even more species, or create a device that forces mosquitos to do your bidding.

However, for you specifically, I want to be remembered in a very particular way. See, this glitter that is covering your clothes, floor, or possibly even more if you opened this next to a fan (which would be hilarious); this glitter is going to around for a while. You'll clean it again and again and again, but it will keep coming back and you'll never know where exactly it's coming from. Cursed with glitter. For life. Always wondering why your loving Great-Grandfather would have done this to you. Good.

I want you to constantly question. Everything. Every time you see glitter in your life, think back to this advice. Keep yourself in a constant state of questions. Many of which, you will find answers to, and those answers may lead to more questions, as well. Life is a constant quest for knowledge. Knowledge gained, knowledge shared, knowledge checked. Always wonder "Why?"

And honestly, if you see glitter too often, you should reevaluate your life.

Love,
The Greatest of Grandpas: Kyle

Finding Parking

Prompt #12: "You have just swallowed your pride and done something you didn't want to do. Your friend wants to know why. The two of you are driving around an almost-filled parking garage looking for a space for the friend's oversize pickup. Write the scene."


"So you did it?" Marcus asked while looking the other way, turning into the garage and immediately looking for a good spot. He turned the radio down, so that perhaps the empty spot's calls would more easily reach him.

I hesitantly responded "Yeah," as slowly and quietly as if I were just beginning to overcome the effects of tranquilizer. I was sunken into my seat, and only passively looking for parking by leaning my face against the passenger side window.

"I thought you hated this kind of work!"

"Yeah"

"So... why?"

I responded with a deep and sorrowful sigh, then with the emotional foundation laid, I built on it with logic. "It's the best choice, I guess. Better than looking around for another job."

"Wouldn't it be better than other jobs altoge-" He cut himself off as he swerved toward a spot before slamming on the brakes. "Dangit... motorcycle. ... Wouldn't it be better than other jobs altogether? I mean, your dad owns the place so it's not like you could be fired."

"False. I can very easily be fired. More-so, probably. Most of the other people who work there already hate me just because I'm his son. They assume I will get special treatment."

"Will you?"

"Not yet, not aside from getting to carpool with the boss. There's one to the right!"

Marcus swerved again, the large truck shifting it's weight onto it's enormous tires, and we came very close to rear-ending a smart car.

"Dangit" we said in unison.

Marcus carefully backed back up and continued spiraling upwards to higher parking levels.

After a moment of silence to respect our loss of convenient parking, I spoke, "It's just not what I'd really like to be doing, y'know? But he said I had to get my own job, start pulling my own weight, buying my own things, etcetera, etcetera, blah, blah blah..."

"I mean... you're what... thirty-four? Kinda makes sense." Marcus said while eyeing every line on the cement suspiciously.

"No, it doesn't! If that's what he wanted he should have asked when I was in my prime hiring age! Not when I was set in my ways as a stay-at-home beneficiary of his work."

"I guess so." Marcus agreed in a way that told me he was in no way guessing so.

"Let's just hurry this up a little?" I complained as the slow movement and constant bumping from unevenly laid rebar started to take its toll on my patience.

"Trying, bud, but it's crowded today."

"Just go to the top, no one ever goes all the way up."

"Unless they have to."

"Well, we have to."

Marcus sped up a bit as we ascended past the fourth, fifth, and sixth floor. The seventh floor was the last floor with any cover from the sun, and it also had a fair number of spaces open.

Triumphant, I started gathering my things "Told you."

"Yeah, yeah, just get out." He said as he pulled into a spot with another open beside it.

"Did you just take up two spaces?"

He peered out his window, "Maybe?"

"You're whats wrong with the world," I shamed him as I opened my case to check that the contents were all in order. "It's the fifth floor east side, right? Blue curtains?"

"Yep. Did you bring the silencer?"

I mocked his question by imitating the cadences through gibberish. "Of course I did, dummy. I'm new to the job not new to the work." I stepped out of the truck and went off to the vantage point.

From: Keenan Wynn

Prompt #11: "Tell a stranger about a beloved family tradition."

My family has never been a family that has upheld strong traditions that weren't simply morally based ways of life. We don't take annual fishing trips, make holiday cards, or have a summer home hidden away in a Tuscan field. That's "Tuscan" like the lovely place near Florence, not "tuscan" like the tusken raiders of Tatooine. Those are spelled differently, so that joke doesn't work well through text. Plus, is Tuscany IN Florence? Near it? Are they the same thing. I should have studied up on my geography before I made that joke I guess. My Earthly Geography not my Star Wars geography. I'm spot on in that aspect. Although, is it geography if you are placing an entire planet? ... You know what? I'm off track.

The point is, my family has small traditions, all of which are both enjoyable and flexible. If they don't happen, we have Plan B: Improvise. There is one tradition, though, that began perhaps a decade ago that we have become so accustomed to, we don't really even bring it up. There are several Christmas traditions that most every Christmas-celebrating family does. We put up a tree, we bake christmas treats, and we try to attend at least one christmas event such as an ice sculpture show or a christmas movie. Of course, there are gifts, too. We do ours slightly differently, though. We shop for them like normal people, or at least our best imitation of what we approximate as normal, we wrap them in seasonal paper, and we might even place a bow on a few of them. The unique part comes in the tags on each of the gifts.

See, something about the Reedy family, is that in our blood runs a deep love for riddles. We like to solve things, but more than that, we like to be puzzled by things. Figuring things out is just... the best feeling. We may seem angry, depressed, even spiraling into certain insanity while puzzled, but in our hearts it brings us joy. So along with the usual lifting, shaking, and attempted x-ray vision on our gifts, we add an element to tease the receiver of the gift.

On the "To:" line, we usually write the recipient's name, although occasionally change it if we want to involve everyone in the confusion. Most of the time, though, the "From" line is where the riddle is. We find a character related to the gift, and say it's from them. I know what you may be thinking. "That's easy". Yes, that would be easy if we weren't so darn good at finding characters so obscure, so very tangentially related to the gift that, to be frank, it would be impressive if you even knew who the character even was. In fact, let's test this out. Everybody turn your googles off.

To: You
From: The Fifth Beatle

I'll give you a moment to think. Scroll down when ready.

See, Billy Preston is who I'd have expected you to go with, and you'd probably think that the gift would then be something related to his career, most likely the album "Let it Be" in which he is credited as an accompanist to the Beatles. But wait, this gift isn't shaped like any sort of musical album, be it CD, Vinyl, or even Microcassettes for that new Microcassette player that David Lightman got you!

No, instead I got you an exact replica of the car behind George on the album cover of Abbey Road, which honestly, is a much better gift than a single album, and definitely better than a microcassette player, so I also showed up someone else in the family in this weird fantasy of mine.

Anyway, that's how the game is played, and the only limit on gifts is your own personal budget! And maybe help from mom, who likes to slip us money! So that means I'd never buy you that car. Maybe a hot-wheels version. But then I'd be torn between saying it's from "The Fifth Beatle" or "Ocho".

Thanks for reading!
~Kyle

Ugh

Prompt #10: "Write a scene where the only spoken dialogue is 'Uh-huh,' 'Umm,' 'Urrrr,' and 'Mm-mmm.'

All I could was sit there and be amazed by his self-proclaimed talent. It was undeniably good, the way he could say nothing and convey so much. I wondered if the person on the other end of the line would ever catch on to the game he was playing.

"Uh-huh." He said it with a long hesitation in the middle preceding a quick upper inflection followed by a drastic fall. It gave the impression of a man who was trying to understand, but didn't quite catch it.

There were a few seconds that I could hear the other voice mumbling from his cell.

"Uh-huh!" This time with a cadence of agreement, followed by a withheld laugh as if he was pretending to be in the company of others who would look down on the joke that he was subtly trying to insinuate, "Mm-mmm"

I almost laughed myself, but he held a finger up to his mouth, which smirked widely as he silently twitched his neck during his own mental laughter. The phone delivered more of the caller's messages, and his face contorted to show his disagreement with what they were saying, but he kept his response as pithy as ever.

"Urrrr," Not disagreeing, but trying to make the caller come up with different options, without doing anything other than passively denying them the original.

This was followed by a quick exchange of slurred noises from the phone and him rapidly repeating 'Uh-huh' after everything they said. At the end, he gave a dismissive yet energetic 'Uh-huh!'

He was right, and I had lost the bet. I slid the five bucks across the table, and asked him if he did that very often to different people.

"Umm"

Here, hold this.

Prompt  #9: "What a character holding a blue object is thinking."

It's no big deal, it's just a quick favor. Don't be weird about it. Is there a way I can hold this and not be weird about it? Should I hold it out like this? No, that looks like I'm trying to hand it to someone. Maybe just down by my side. No, now it looks like it's mine. I look way too comfortable with it. Not that I'm not comfortable with it. I just don't want to seem too comfortable with it. I know: elbow at my side and hold it away from myself slightly. Wait no, that's even weirder, now I look like posing for something. Oh, I can just put it at my feet. I don't have to actually hold it, after all. Wait, no they'll think that's a little rude. I mean, it is a little rude, I guess. But still, how long am i meant to hold it? It's getting a little heavy. What do they even have in here? Am I allowed to look? No, probably not. That's invasive. But, then again, they did give it to me. I am it's primary caretaker. How am I supposed to take care of something I know so little about? I could probably shake it a bit and get a good guess going. Yeah, just one little shake. I'll just yank the handle and give it a listen. Huh... sounded like a bunch of metal and plastic. I'm actually pretty bad at this "shake-and-guess" game, as I recall from every christmas ever. Plus, they just looked over to see if I dropped it. Just wave and smile, everything is fine. Hurry up, though. I wont say it out loud, but I think my eyes said it because they rolled theirs at me. Why even bring this if you aren't going to hold it for the majority of the time? Oh, here they come. I'll just smirk and hold this out. Maybe I'll make a funny joke asking if this goes with my shoes. Perfect delivery. They think I'm hilarious. Here are your belongings, madame.


What an idiot.

Roommate

Prompt #8: "The Long-Lost Roommate"

To the outside observer, it's a simple gesture. Truth is, there's a deeper hidden meaning behind the subtle nodding salutation that they give each other as they pass. It's not bromance, they aren't blood brothers, or even part of a wolf pack. No, those two gentlemen were roommates once. 

Whether it was for years, for months, or even for a few days. They shared a space commonly not much larger than a hotel room. At the beginning they upheld a sense of normalcy for each other. It was a kindness, it was polite. They used headphones when listening to music or watching movies. They kept their laundry as out of the way as possible. The beginning was a tense peace. Both held back their oddities, hoping that the other would soon show some sign of abnormality so they could breath easy, letting their metaphorical gut of uniqueness hang out.

Soon, it happened. Maybe one of them accidentally left the headphones out and their computer began playing 'My Heart Will Go On' on full volume, and they frantically muted it as the other gave them a look showing they were unsure what to think. Maybe one of them walked in as the other was just finishing getting undressed for the shower. Perhaps it was as innocent as passively quoting an obscure film and having that reference unexpectedly recognized. No matter what it was, the flood gates had opened.

They were freer now, and it was both a blessing and a curse. It freed them to show the uniqueness of themselves. One started playing an instrument the other had no idea existed... or could get so loud. The other would start displaying some figurines they had collected from a nostalgic medium they loved as a child... and they took up quite a bit of room on the shared desk. They soon found freedom to passively and actively express themselves. The figurines would get shoved aside, and soon the other one would claim to know that he had no idea putting a wooden pan-flute by the humidifier would warp the pipes.

But there is an unspoken law among them. Certain things can be said in the outside world. They can say the other one snores horribly. They can say the other one keeps a trash pile around the trash can. But certain things would stay secret to them forever. Some so secret, in fact, that even they would be hard pressed to remember what exactly they had locked so deep in the vault.

It's been decades now, and they don't speak as often as they used to, and they most certainly don't see each other nearly as often. They might meet at a party, pull each other in for a quick one-armed hug and a pat on the back. They might meet in a formal setting, and give each other a firm shake of the hand. But these meetings are always punctuated with the specific seal. The nod. The nod that they will give, no matter what the circumstances. It follows each salutation, as well as stands on it's own should they merely pass on the street someday. 

The nod that says "I acknowledge." They acknowledge all that had happened. They acknowledge the time spent. They acknowledge their perseverance. They acknowledge each other as something close to, but somehow unlike friends. It is a deeper, and somehow darker connection. One that is mentioned in passing. "He was my roommate a while back". A few anecdotal stories are told perhaps, but nothing deeper. There are stories that can only be understood by those who made them, after all.

Besides no one wants to hear about how your buddy locked you out of the room in a towel like... eleven times in a week. Why are you in a towel that often anyway? That's almost twice a day, bro. And seriously, just take the keys with you. They have hooks in the showers. It ain't hard science.

'Towed'-ally over the line.

Prompt #7 "Something that you've had stolen from you."

I don't think I've ever had something stolen from me. Not anything important, anyway, otherwise I think I would remember it. However, I do remember a time something was rightfully taken from me, but it is the closest I've come to feeling like I've been robbed.

A few years ago, I was visiting a good friend at his apartment in a town about an hour away from my home. I parked in the apartment's parking lot, as I had done at least once before, and went inside and played video/card games with him and his roommate for several hours. We decided to go out to eat along with getting some outdoor filming done, and when I was walking to their car, I noticed that mine... was missing.

For a few minutes they said that we should call the cops, and its odd my car got stolen because it wasn't a very bad neighborhood at all. Then, my friend realized that you had to have a permit to park in the lot. This was news to me, and I made it known to him that it would have been nice to know. He said it would have been. The sign that said it was a permit zone was both bent and partially obscured. We called the company and they were about thirty minutes away, and their hours of operation ended in two hours. However, they were closing early that day. I asked why. They said that they wanted to get off early. I said that they can't close early just because they want off when I have a car to pick up. They said it wasn't their problem. This angered me. In fact, I'm angry just thinking about it. What kind of horrible business plan is that? I mean, I know you aren't exactly shooting for return customers at a towing company, but come on, really?

Anyway, it cost me (read: my parents) a few hundred to get it back and it was one of the worst things that ever happened to me mostly because of the horrible service they gave, and how I now view all towing companies as horrible portals into another realm where being a complete tool is not only acceptable but encouraged.

... Anyway... that's a time something was 'stolen' from me.

Thanks for reading!
~Kyle

Ransom

"It says: 'If you want your children to be safe, call 985-655-2500 now!'" Bryce let his eyes linger on the paper for a few moments before looking confusedly at Sarah.

Sarah stood with eyes wide open and mouth agape "It's a ransom note?!"

Bryce caught onto the fear quickly. Unsure of whether to keep holding the note or toss it to the ground, he spoke frantically. "I- I don't know! It's so neat!"

"It's neat? You think it's neat?"

"No, I mean... not neat like 'Oh, cool!' I mean it's... it's typed up."

Sarah hesitated for a moment trying to understand what Bryce meant, giving him a look that questioned his sanity. Bryce spoke up again in his own defense. "Y'know, like, usually these things are made of magazine clippings and all wrinkly."

"Wha- usually?! How many ransom notes do you see on a daily basis?"

"You know, like ones in movies."

"Bryce! This is real life! This is a real ransom note! Obviously they aren't going to be as flashy as Hollywood!"

"Well, they had enough time to place a little picture of a crying girl on here. And look, even the crime watch signal is in the corner. What kind of weirdo does that? Is it like... his signature?"

"Bryce! Focus! There's something very wrong about this. Don't you get it?"

"Well, I guess it's just weird that it was on our car, since we don't have... a kid..."

"Right! So obviously it was meant for someone else!"

"Oh. Oh. ... OH! And if they didn't put it on their car, they don't know what number to call!"

Sarah was more frantic than ever, now that her fears had been confirmed by Bryce reaching the same conclusion she had. "Oh no, oh no, oh no, ohno-ohno-ohno!"

"No, no, no, calm down I'll just put it on the car... next to us." His last words deflated as he took notice of the cars that took the two spaces on either side of them. "I knew I should have taken the space at the end instead of one over! Then we'd know for sure who's car it belonged to. But no, you said to park one over so someone else could take the spot, that way no kids would hit the car with baseballs."

"Don't you dare blame this on me, Bryce! Someone's child is in trouble! We have bigger problems! Look, this is easy, all we do is call the police and let them know." Sarah pulled out her phone and began unlocking it before Bryce ripped it out of her hand in a swift movement.

"No, Sarah! What are you thinking?! If you call the police, who knows what they'll do to the kid? Then it'll be all our fault that the kid gets hurt!"

Sarah breaths in sharply and clasps her hands over her mouth. "You're right! You're so right. I'm sorry!"

"It's fine, don't worry, no damage done. What I think our only option is... is calling the number on the note. We'll tell them they made a mistake, then... we'll be off the hook."

"What?! First of all, I can't believe you would just do that and walk away without actually trying to help. Second of all, how is that idea any better? People don't just randomly steal kids for ransom, they only do that for families they know have money. Then, they scout them and make sure they know the family routines. So if they've done that, they'll know the parent's voices! What if they think they hired us as private detectives and we end up just making them have to pay more in the end, and get ourselves in danger?"

"Wha? And you said I was thinking too 'Hollywood'? Well, if that's not a good idea, then what is? We have to do something! We can't just drop the note on the ground and walk away like we never saw anything! It's our duty as good citizens to alert some kind of authority, or make someone else aware of this!"

Their raised voices battled back and forth for about a minute before a young looking man in business casual dress came from behind the tree line holding a large stack of crumpled papers. While the fight disconcerted him, he didn't see any reason to get involved, and put one of the small papers under the windshield wiper of the car next to theirs. Sarah noticed this happening behind Bryce, and watched as the young man continued doing the same for each of the cars in the row aside from their's and the one car separating them from the edge. Sarah walked over to one of the cars and pulled the paper out, and saw it was the same paper that had been in theirs. She took the paper from the next car down as well, and this time the young man took notice. "Hey! What are you doing with those!"

Sarah, still filled with emotion, but now very confused, shouted at the man. "What are these?!"

He responded a bit fearfully, but trying to maintain a business-like composure. "Flyers. I'm... just putting them on cars to raise awareness."

Bryce cut into the conversation "Awareness for what?"

"A start-up alarm system business I just got hired at. I'm going around town putting flyers in cars."

Bryce looked at the paper from his own car, not seeing a business name. "What business? There's no name on here!"

The young man flipped a paper from his stack, and scanned over it as his face turned a bright shade of red. "Oh, no... Oh, man, I'm gonna get so chewed out! Today stinks, man. First this whole stack gets blown away and I spend like ten minutes picking it all up, then this? I'm gonna have to reprint all of these!" He then went and took each of the flyers he had already put in cars and put them back into his disheveled stack.

Bryce and Sarah stood in silence watching this happen until he took out a key and entered the car that was acting as the buffer between theirs and the edge of the lot, tossing the stack into the back of the car and all but peeling out of the parking lot with a face as red as a tomato. They watched the car disappear as their heart rates slowed to a steady pace again. They both glanced at the incomplete flyer in Bryce's hand, then at each other with expressions unsure of whether or not they were willing to admit to what just happened. 

Bryce slowly opened his mouth to speak, but not knowing what to say, just tightened his lips and shook his head as if to shake off the confusion and disbelief, instead unlocking their car, and letting Sarah in. He closed her door, then walked around to his side and stepped in as well, handing her the flyer as he started the car. He began driving to the coffee shop they had initially planned to visit after their walk, and after a moment of looking at the flyer, Sarah began laughing heartily at what had just transpired, and Bryce soon joined in with her. They enjoyed the rest of the day, knowing that day was not one they would soon forget.

Prompt #6: "Write a story that begins with a ransom note"

It's a Nice Day.

Prompt #5: "You are an Astronaut. Describe your perfect day."

My favorite day is... actually a little corny, I guess you could say. Most people would think it's the day you get chosen for the mission, or the day you landed on the moon, or even the days it takes to go to and from. Honestly, though, I think my perfect day would have to be the day we landed back on Earth.

I mean, there's definitely something amazing about launch day. All that training that goes into that moment makes the payoff a little sweeter, and you can just feel the power in the rocket lifting you into the air. It's not enough to prepare you for what's next, though. There's this... surreal feeling as you exit the atmosphere that's almost like... leaving reality. It's the first time that you truly see the entire world in a new perspective. Then, of course, there's the obvious change of gravity. Everything is so much lighter, so weightless. You are so far away from everything you've known, that even life's stresses lose their weight. Then, being on the moon is just incredible, of course. It's such an alien landscape. Something that seems so familiar at home is this... completely different thing once you are up there. It's beautiful, but dangerous, which only lends to it's beauty, I think.

But, coming back, which is a three day trip, by the way. That's a trip unlike anything else. The last day, the arrival, is more surreal than the trip out. I remember the last hours so vividly. It was a blue canvas with splashes of green and strokes of white at first. As we got closer, though, more colors appeared. Soon, we could see yellows and reds in the deserts, then the bright outline of shores. Then we could differentiate different blues in the waters. Visually, it was like watching the world paint itself back into the pictures that we could all recognize. Physically, as we entered the atmosphere, it shook us back to reality. We were back in the familiar pull of our home's once inescapable gravity. The occasional turbulence of different pieces of our vehicle being released as our own weight came back to us. Then the parachute comes out, and we begin the slow decent. Enough time to think about everything we've done. It's hardly believable, though. Looking up at the sky and thinking 'Were we really just out there? For so long?' Not long ago, it was only being dreamed of, and that's what it seemed like. A dream.

But my favorite part of that day, bar none was after all of that. After we were picked up, and taken back, we did what we had been waiting to do for a long while. Meeting our friends and family again. Not to tell them about all the things we've seen, although we did, of course. I can't speak for my fellow travelers, of course, but my reasons were a little selfish. When I had that moment, the one where you see family after a long break, it felt the same as launch day. Seeing the smiles they had, and hugging loved ones. It all felt weightless, like all worries and troubles had been left floating somewhere far away once again. That was my favorite day.

Future Status

Welp. It's been a long gap again. At this point I guess that was to be expected. Or maybe this ever being updated again was the thing that was to be unexpected. Believe it or not, I've been pretty busy... going places. "Hur hur he said the title" ... Yes, but it's true. Traveling in the summer, then suddenly moving to a college by a rushed, but not rash decision. I guess that might need explanation. I knew I would go here, but I didn't think it would be this past year until... about three weeks before move-in day.

But I'm not here to make excuses! I'm here to make dreams come true!

Okay, not really. I'm actually here to look in this book that provided the prompts for my last three posts from last year and see what the next one is. ... Huh... alright. Make some facebook statuses from 2017. Glad I didn't wait four years to do this, otherwise it would be kind of bland.

Well, gee golly, what's happening in 2017? I'll (hopefully) be a year away from graduation. I'll be twenty seven years old. Which makes me kinda feel awful typing those two things in a row. So... probably one status like:

"One more year until I graduate! Then only two years until my mid-life crisis!"

Mainly because I've always been a fan of self-depreciating humor. Also, in the past two or three years, I've come to terms with the fact that I'm a narcissist. Some of you are tired of hearing me admit that, probably. But, the fact is, the more I admit it, the easier it is to not be so narcissistic. Which is saying a lot. Because it's also like... super easy for me to think I'm great. In fact...

"Man. I am so great."

... Actually, by then I'll hopefully be a little more over myself, so let's change that to:

"Man, I am so grateful."

Yeah. That sounds like something an older and wiser me would say. ... Or something I guess I would say now, since thinking of it somewhat proves that I already have that capacity. Hmm. Typing in a stream of consciousness style is pretty therapeutic it would seem. I should do this more often. OH! Here's a status I'll hopefully be putting up.

"Hey, check out this new blog post! It's about stuff!"

Haha get it? Because... that would mean... that I actually... kept up with this. *cough cough* ... But, this book has six hundred and thirty eight more prompts after this one, so I should be good for... quite a while. Anyway, let's throw in a few other statuses I'd like to put up.

"I sure do love my job!"
"Almost done writing that book!"
"So pumped they put The Cape back on the air in 2014"
"That moment when you have to use your backup porsche! #embarrassed"
"Kept getting stopped at the mall because people wanted autogra-

Okay, let's stop there. Things were getting a bit too intensely self-indulgent. Also, I just realized that my break is about over and I should probably get back to homework. I'll be back here soon for the next prompt.

Thanks for reading!
~Kyle

Talking to a fern.

You have a lot to live for, you know.

I know it sounds cliché, but its true.

Everybody who has met you has commented on how good you always look.

No, you aren't just a wall-flower.

Well, for one: You usually hang out near the window.

Yeah, I know. You like the sun.

No, yeah. I mean I like rain more, but whatever floats your boat.

Yeah, I know you like rain, too.

I thought you said you had enough water here!

Well obviously not when I was gone, but you said you could handle yourself!

Look, maybe it's time for you to move out.

I dunno. We'll go to the park and I'll dig a hole to put you in. See how you like that.

You'll meet lots of new people.

Your diet won't be as regular as it is in here, but you should get by.

Yeah, you'll have friends like you to help you out, I'm sure.

Guess we can try it in a few days. Once you get back to health in here.

Seconds

Well, I'm up. Might as well ramble on and then post it online for posterity, right? Amiright?!

Anyway, I'm thinking about how weird time is. Let's not even worry about the fact that it's hilarious that when you think about it time is less of something we measure in the sense of something continuing so much as it is a measurement of how long it has left. And let's strictly focus on how stinkin' ridiculous it is that so much can get done.

Let's take a look at Niagra Falls, shall we? Niagra Falls is a pretty big deal. So big, in fact, that 750,000 gallons of water pour from it every second (That video you watched was 75,900,000 gallons of waterfall, yo). Which is pretty impressive. Do you know how long it would take you to drink all that? NO! Because you're asleep, probably!

Well, I'm not and I like math and challenges so let's diggity-do this. Another fact: 20,000 Coca-Cola products are sold throughout the world. Every. Second. So let's use that as our basis for how much you drink every second. Now, calm your face. You aren't the world. Even though you mean it to me, you just scientifically aren't, and you're gonna have to deal with it.

So let's widdle that down a bit. First, we'll say that most Coca-Cola products being bought are the cans because even though everyone knows the bottles are better, cans are what I always see people drinking. Cans hold 12 ounces of fluid, and there are 128 ounces per gallon, meaning that it would take 10.66666666666667 cans to make a gallon. Conveniently: 20,000/10.66666666666667 divides one digit away from 1,875. Don't trust me? Get a calculator.

So great. 1,875 gallons of Coca-Cola bought world-wide per-second. But you still don't drink that much. I hope. Not in one second at least. Besides, the current population is 6,973,738,433. Out of all those, you are only one. Which is about .00000001434% if I round up. So we can somewhat safely say you drink that amount of the world's Coca-Cola. Which is .000002868 gallons. Which is .000367104 ounces. Per second, of course.

Now, that's just how much you purchase. As for how much you can drink? Let's say you are half as good as the record holding fizz-drinker, who I don't know. So instead, here's the average time of several competitors divided in half, then rounded: 3.5 seconds per-can. So we can fairly safely say you get about 4 ounces on a good gulp. So at that rate, it would take you a minute of solid, 4-ounce a second chugging to get almost 2 (1.875) gallons down. We won't worry about how you keep it down. This isn't REAL science.

1.875 gallons in a minute? It would take you about 10,667 minutes of non-stop sipping, and you'd have had the entire world's share of soda. For a second, anyway. You'd also be sick, but for oh so much longer than a second. Let's round that up to 11,000. So, that took you 183.3 hours. Let's say 183 because I'm tired of all these decimals. And let's face it... you can't even do that, bro. Thats just under 8 days, so 8 days is what we'll go with.

So yay! You're done, right? WRONG! We're trying to drink Niagra Falls! But the rest is easy. 20,000 gallons in 8 days. 750,000 Gallons flowing from the falls. Divide 750k by 20k you get 37.5, you multiply that by the time it takes you to drink the 20, aaaand you get 300 days. To drink one second of Niagra Falls. Have fun, champ.

Now, why you would even do something like that just seems silly. When you already have so much more you can do in a second. In fact, I dare say that humans can do the most amazing thing in a second. Decision-making. In fact, thanks to split-second decisions, we can do it twice! And thanks to being able to multi-task like no other, we do it without even knowing sometimes!

Now, I know. It seems corny, but it's true. Niagra Falls is amazing, but it's pretty set in it's ways. It can't just say "Y'know what? I'm just gonna... not be a waterfall today". Nope. It's a waterfall. We, however, can decide that kind of stuff. Every second. We can completely change everything. Literally every step you take, no matter how mundane they may sometimes seem is a decision. You ever stop and think about that? Because guess what? Stopping to think about making a decision is a decision. We can even decide on sets of decisions to make!

Okay, let me just breathe and calm down. ... Okay. Okay. Let me... okay.

Here's an example. You are talking to a person. Normal conversation. They're talking about something that's actually pretty interesting. What are your choices? You could respond with something related, or change the subject, right? WRONG. Options are pretty re-stinking-diculously limitless. You could punch them in the face. You really could. It'd be just plain wrong of you, and it would definitely change your life. You could also just slowly back away. Maybe not as life changing, but they wouldn't ever look at you the same.

So I guess I'm just stuck here. Being awake. Thinking about all of the options I've ever had, have, or will have. It's incredible how the slightest difference in action could have and still can drastically affect my life. Obviously, it's not that big of a deal if I order white or wheat at Subway. What's important is that I went to Subway instead of Firehouse Subs like some kind of idiot. My life suffers for that.

Seriously, though. Next time you're bored think about all the things you could do. Don't worry about what you could have done five years ago, because hindsight is 20/20 and it's like being in high school and thinking doing your kindergarten letter-tracing over again will help you understand Shakespeare.

That's about all I have on my mind tonight. A bunch of math for no reason, and an attempt to be philosophical while I have a migraine probably. So... see you next time I can't sleep.

Thanks for reading!
~Kyle

This Story is Untimely.

This story is about Thanksgiving... So it's late. Also it's more than four years old. So... You've been warned.

The year was 2008. It was Autumn in Texas, and Thanksgiving was on it's way. The day was like any other November day in Texas. Warm one hour and chilly the next. Nothing unusual. Except, for thousands of students, this was their last fall semester in high school. Now, to most, this isn't a big deal. After all it's the spring semester that counts isn't it? Well, not to one particular group of high schoolers. For reasons unknown to most, it was decided that they could not leave this school with pride until they had celebrated thanksgiving. Easy fix, right? Wrong. It wasn't. Why would I be writing about it if it was?
You see, Thanksgiving, although it be a day of thanks, is also a day to be with your family. That isn't, in and of itself, a bad thing. But it was bad for these young men. It meant that they would not be given a chance to celebrate it together. So they had to take the opportunity forcefully. Now you may be asking: "Why is Thanksgiving such an important holiday to these lady killers?". It isn't. Stop thinking. You're ruining my story.
These strapping young men of mystery saw no manner of getting around the holiday's obligatory familial requirements, so instead they did something completely unheard of. Relatively. I guess it's actually pretty common.... but they did it in an uncommon way. They decided to celebrate Thanksgiving before the actual day. No danger in that. Ah, but they decided to celebrate... during school hours! ... Again, there isn't much dange- BUT THEY DECIDED TO CELEBRATE DURING CLASS, WHILE NOT ATTENDING CLASS, AND AT A PLACE USUALLY RESERVED FOR FACULTY! Ah... now I have your attention.
It all began with a simple suggestion. "Let's celebrate Thanksgiving today. Right here." The suggestion, I am somewhat proud to say, came from me. I had been at this school my entire life. My suggestion was unwavering in it's surety. I know this school. As I grew older, it grew around me. I knew the rules, and I could jump through the loopholes like a Jack Russell going for gold. I earned this, and by gum, I was going to take it. I was immediately met by Heath's logic. He was known for it, and although it's truth was painful, I was thankful for it. "We don't have any good food, though." He was right. The cafeteria wasn't exactly overflowing with food meant for a true pilgrim's feast. No, the cafeteria overflew with... other... things... of questionable merit. Austin saw the plan falling apart before it have even been put together. "But we have a car. And Tom Thumb is across the street." He did it again. Known for putting the flicker of hope back into even the darkest of times, Austin had put this cunning plan back to the grindstone and before we could even put protective masks on, the sparks were flying.
"I have six dollars" I said.
"I have ten." Heath announced.
"I have like... seven or eight." Austin sung.
"I have twenty. What are we doing?" A familiar voice chimed in. The announcement was music to our ears, and the person is came from was none other than Juan. He had a well-paying job, or was at the very least better at saving money. Save for times like these, when desperate measures were called for. However, being the logistic one, soon uttered "However, gentleman, we would have to miss a class if we were to have the food in time for our assigned lunch period."
It was a jest, of course, as we all knew that none of the four gathered in this fateful meeting had a single worry on the subject, and frankly didn't give the slightest of turds. We shared in a hearty laugh that, if heard by lesser men, would have caused them to grow a thick patch of hair upon their chest.
We pooled our fourty-three dollars, and piled in to Austin's car. We drove to Tom Thumb, and on the 3 minute ride, discussed a plan to most effectively gather the proper Thanksgiving meal. Heath called dibs on the turkey, earning the right to take the most honorable and easiest of tasks. Juan would find drinks, Austin opted to find side dishes, and I was on dessert duty. As soon as we entered the store, we split. We had been here many times, and knew exactly where our quarry would be hidden. I easily found an Oreo ice cream pie in the frozen dessert section. Being something that needed to thaw instead of cook, it was a perfect choice for a group with no access to a kitchen. On my way to see the drinks Juan had decided upon, I passed the largest and most glorious watermelon. I had to have it. I set the pie down, picked the enormous fruit into one arm, stacked the pie atop it, then cradled the delectable orb in my arms, making sure to keep the pie balanced. We met each other at the register, asking no question of what the others had chosen. There was also a sale on 2 liter drinks. 2 for 1. We got four.
Our bounty: A rotisserie chicken (no cooked turkeys available), Two family sized bags of chips along with chip dip, a plate of cheese and crackers, a can of cranberries, a watermelon, an Oreo ice cream pie, and four 2-Liter sodas (Mountain Dew, Coca-Cola, Root Beer, and Sunkist)
We had extra money. We split it evenly and called it even because that's what splitting things evenly makes them.
We went back to the school and met with our first, and largest issue. We didn't know where to eat all of this food. The catwalks? No that would be too difficult and uncomfortable. In a car? Not enough room. My mother's classroom? Not enough time before the children would come back in to learn math vowels or whatever first grade is about. Then it dawned on us. A table so large it could hold our over-sized feast. The "Teacher Table" in the cafeteria. A risky move. As seniors, we were given some leniency on what rules we could bend. But this table was not a rule. It was an unwritten law. Teachers sat there. TEACHERS sat there. We knew that, although it was our only option (that we thought of), it would be a direct invasion of faculty land. Some might say... and act of war.
However, we had a good while before they needed it, so we placed our items across the two connected tables which we could have replicated anywhere else, and spread ourselves out. There was to be one empty chair on either side of each participant to make room for each respective meal. We took plasticware from containers, and immediately began the buffet.
Each bite was intense. The chicken was the first to go, and rightfully so. Although not a five star quality chicken, it was steaming hot, and incredibly tender. Seasoned with the feeling of victory. We ate the drumsticks and wings of course, although the breast meat remained as our attention turns to our other treats. The chips and dip dwindled slowly as I used a plastic butter knife to cut through our leviathan of a watermelon. As soon as it's thick shield of green was broken, we split it in two and engorged ourselves on it's innards. It was barbaric. Not out proudest moment. Every time I looked at the 2-liter bottles they were emptier than the time I had previously seen them. Before we knew it, half of the pie was gone, a warm chicken lay pulled apart on the table, and watermelon juice was dripping onto the floor.
We knew that, if this was seen, it would cause ourselves more trouble than it was worth. We grabbed napkins, and make quick work of the mess. Just as we were debating what to do with the leftovers, we heard it. The sound of our judgement. We did not yet know what our verdict would be, and fear almost took hold. But we had fought too hard this day, and our food-fueled adrenaline was not yet gone. We stood in confidence to face the gruff voice of "The Rev".
"What is all this?" He asked, with an honest curiosity.
Our only response was the truth, and in unison we replied. "Thanksgiving..."
We explained to him that we had just eaten our thanksgiving meal, and were about to clean up, until a stroke of inspired genius hit us. We had threatened to take the table that rightfully belonged to the teachers. Much like (blah pilgrims blah indians blah history of thanksgiving). We were monsters! But we could still set things right. We offered some of our feast to him.
He eyed us for a moment. He asked what we had. We went though the list of items we had bought. There was a silence. Finally, he spoke.
"Yeah, sure."
We did it. Peace was reestablished. Although technically it was never lost. Whatever. We asked if he wanted us to clear any of it away, and he told us to leave it. We made sure, and he insisted, so we left. Assumedly, the other teachers on lunch duty enjoyed what was left of our feast that day, but we weren't staying around to find out. This was my favorite Thanksgiving dinner ever, as it taught me the most valuable lesson of all. If you shirk responsibilities and go do what you want, even if it makes a mess in a place that you don't belong, if you play your cards right, you won't have any negative consequences ever.
... Okay not really. It was just a fun thing we did that "The Rev" was cool about. Kinda makes me regret never having him as a teacher. Oh, well. Have some cool "Rev" memories anyway.
It is my favorite thanksgiving dinner so far, though.
Also we never opened the cranberries and also never saw them again.
The end.

Thanks for reading!
~Kyle

Here's the skinny

Hey everyone!

It has been quite a busy trip so far! Last week was intensely cool seeing over 100 teens accept salvation! The activities were fun and I got to talk about all sorts of things with all sorts of people!

I need to work on remembering names, though, because that's one of my fatal flaws. Luckily the campers were very forgiving.

Yesterday we finished our 18 hour trip from virginia to Missouri. We just got done with the church service/luncheon at High Street Baptist Church and are on our way back to unload the budget truck and set up for camp tomorrow!

Fun times ahead!
~Kyle

Quick Update

Aaaaaaw yeah.

We are pretty much rocking test camp.

Yesterday we got some serious CPR training done, and that was super fun times. We then went bowling as a group and that was a more real kind of fun. Meeting all the staff and getting to know all these fun people is pretty exciting for a phleg like myself.
(smooth transition)
We learned about our temperaments today! I'm still a phleg/Mel, so nothing I'm not used to. Right now we are on an hour long break before we head downstairs to get some sports training. I don't really know how that's gonna work since I pretty much already know the rules to all the major sports. I hope there is dodgeball. I like dodgeball. I like you, too. Bye.

Thanks for reading!
~Kyle

Greenhorns

What up, dogs?

... Sorry. I don't talk that way, but I sometimes have to take advantage of how casual this blog can be to remind myself to be less formal. Formality limits opinion.

So: Update: I landed safely yesterday and waited in the airport for around 4 hours (don't worry I ate Burger King and played Flick Home Run) until I met up with a friend, we'll call him Brad, and we got picked up along with two other staffers, we'll call them Joshua and Jasmine.

We arrived on campus, put our stuff in our dorms, and went to the very first orientation meeting/worship/blur-of-memory-because-everything-happened-so-fast. Then I fell asleep.

Next day (Today): Woke up, and had a cold shower which was pretty hard to do, but it sure woke me up. We all headed to the breakfast hall and ate, went to the worship, and tested out some games to have at camp. It was pretty much the bomb. We broke for lunch, and came back for a longer, but informative orientation.

We then broke for about an hour of free time during which I fixed up two computers to work with a very stubborn printer. That may not sound fun to you, but it was to me. Don't judge.

We then went to a lil' place called Mojitos and I got pork tacos which I found a bone in. They said it was a parsley stem, but none of us were buying it. So that was gross, but extremely funny. I got a sandwich after that.

Came back, had worship, celebrated an awesome lady's birthday, we'll call her Karen, and then had an intense and surprisingly hot night-time hide and seek game. Then after I got sweaty I took another cold showed. I loved it that time though.

Alright so: after writing all that, I will mention none of the meal times, free times, or really anything unless something out of the ordinary happened, or it caught my attention for some reason. Like that bone in the taco thing. I just wanted to give you the gist of things for now.

Thanks for reading!
~Kyle

P.S. We wore green shirts today and a lot of people are new here, including me if you count I've never done the American tour. That's why the title is that.

For real this time.

Hello, most faithful of readers!

It's been a while since I've done this so I figure the amount of readers has dwindled down to only the most dedicated of web surfers. Or the most bored of Facebook users. Either way welcome back! On to business.

Today I am flying to Louisville where I will start my first day on the Incredibly Awesome 20th Anniversary Lift Summer Tour Staff. I'm pretty sure that's the official name. As you might have been able to deduce: I'm pretty darn pumped about it.

I've been on the AirLift UK Staff for a few times now (and again this year), but I've always wanted to do the whole tour. Well the opportunity presented itself this year and I immediately took it. Of course, when I say 'immediately' I mean that it happened almost literally last minute. Was it stressful for me? Yes. I like planning ahead of time. However, it will be so worth it. I've heard tales of the staff summer tour for so long and I'm super excited to finally be a part of it. I'm looking forward to, in a very particular order, seeing what God does in and through my fellow staffers and the campers, having fun with said people, and the food.

"But, Kyle, why is food last on the list?" - Medium Rare Steak with a baked potato on the side

Don't worry, steak! You are still really good and I love almost all food (That almost is you, seafood), but you are just going to have to deal with being prioritized a little lower! Don't think I won't still see you often, though. Maybe not steaks, but food in general.

This got really off topic! My plane is taking off in about 36 minutes (at least that's what they say now), so I'm getting more excitable every minute. It might not help that my breakfast is haribo gummy bears. Don't get me wrong, they are good. They just aren't as healthy as you might think they sound. I'm actually going to see if I can't find a vending machine around here with sticky buns or something. That's better, right?

I'll be keeping this as updated as possible during this tour, so check back often. Check my twitter or instagram to see things more often, though. 140 characters or a picture takes much less time than this. Especially on a phone. Just search "KyleGoesPlaces"

Until next time,
~Kyle

Happy New Year!

Today is my birthday, or so facebook tells me. Aside from last year, this is usually when I make my "New Year's Resolution". This is due to the fact that, to me, it is a new year. I don't need to subscribe to the January first model due to my first year starting 22 years ago.

This is one of those years that doesn't really carry anything of much importance with it. In fact, as a boy, there aren't very many at all that carry any exceptional amount of weight. Off the top of my head I'd say the birthdays of manly importance are these:

10: You've lasted a decade and have a pretty good idea of who you want to be, or at the very least which color power ranger you'd most likely become.

16: You can drive now, so prepare yourself for all the ladies!!! Haha just kidding, they can drive, too.

18: You are now technically an adult. This one is important legally, so I'm kinda obligated to put it here. (Fun fact: I waited till now to get my license)

20: Two decades... This one actually threw me off just thinking about it... Two decades...

21: You can drink now. If you want. Fair warning, though: most alcohol tastes horrible. Like really really bad. It's honestly not worth it.

30: People start calling you an adult without hesitation or using air quotes

40: By now most people you know will use your title and last name, and kids will be freaked out when they find out you have a first name.

That continues on in that pattern (decades), but I won't bother you with all of them because I haven't actually done enough in depth studying of what it's like to be anything above 45, so I probably couldn't represent it that well.

As you can see, though, the rate of important birthdays drastically decreases after the mid-20's. It is a slightly less steep of a fall for women, but I'm not one of those, so that doesn't matter right now. It doesn't bother me too much that eventually birthdays won't matter nearly as much. To be honest, I'm not a big birthday kind of person.

I appreciate when people congratulate me on living as long as I have, despite the naysayers who thought that I wouldn't make it this far. Well, despite my early years of active impish-ness, I survived and have in the last 5 or 8 years moved on to a much more passive pranksterism.

So thank you for all of the birthday greetings that were given to me via the social media websites today, and the ones I was given in person! I will talk to some of you soon, some of you when I go Wales in the fall, and some of you I will hear from again next year when Facebook tells you it's my birthday again!

Don't worry, I love you all the same.

Thanks for reading!
~Kyle


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Right Off Memory Lane

Welcome back, readers! It took me longer than I thought it would to get used to drawing electronically, so this post has been a little delayed. But now I'm here, you're here, and we are all set to get this thing started. So let's get this thing started. As promised, I will be guiding you through my mind, so I think it's important that you first know what my mind looks like. So here is some clip art of a brain!

Now, I know that you might have been expecting some grand masterpiece of art by yours truly, but hopefully you'll learn to lower those expectations soon. That said, let's zoom in to the part we'll be look at today: The memory center. Which is right here-ish:

Zoom in a little.

Enhance.

Hmmm... What is that? Do some totally unrealistic cop drama enhancing.

Oh my goodness! It's the best theatre in my mind! I can't believe I had almost forgotten about it. This is the place to go for any citizen of my mind who wants, needs, or is forced to look through anything and everything that I have ever experienced in the past. It only has one screen, but with my patented UnrealD Glasses, that screen will show you the memory that you wanted to see while simultaneously projecting different memories to any number of audience members that may also be in the theatre with you. If you go in without any specific memory in mind, you'll receive a random one! Come on, let's give it a try.

Oh... Well. I DID say it would be random. Seems like a blast from the past. As you can see, the audience of this theatre is very opinionated, and will sometimes discuss memories as they watch them. That sort of thing is usually frowned upon in real life, but since all the audience members (along with every citizen in my mind) are personifications of aspects of myself divided into almost infinitesimally portioned archetypes. That's a topic for another post, though. The point is, they are all basically me, and I like my opinions, so they have no problem with sharing them or listening to them. However, like every theatre, there is a more sacred and everlasting area where they make their opinion more permanently known.

Here is where the people communicate most somewhat effectively. Every citizen is required to have an imaginary sharpie (imaginarpie) on them at all times just in case they need to correct or add to any statement written anywhere. Sure, it leads to some pretty messy paperwork now and then, but this is one of the places the law really proves it's worth. Just look at this monument to public opinionatedness. Look at it!

Well, that's about all of the theatre that I have time to show you today. I'll show you to another area of this thriving community some other time! Until then, remember to take some time out of your day to think of something different. It'll keep you sane.

Thanks for reading!

~Kyle