Being Devious

Katie and I are going out with the boys next Friday.  And then on the phone earlier, The Mormon and I were discussing evil plots and such, and one of us gave me the idea of Katie and me suggesting some ridiculously horrible movie to them just for the sake of being evil.  We’d be sitting in this awful movie laughing the entire time because we’d known it would suck before we ever left.

Then I remembered an announcement of sorts that Katie and I decided we have to make to them the next time we’re out—the fact that neither of us celebrates Doomsday.  (And then we’re going to make them ask what exactly Doomsday is.  It’s Valentine’s Day.)  I informed him that we had to tell both of them at the same time so that they would believe us.  So I said, “Remind me we have to tell you something, because I know we’ll forget, and that wouldn’t be good.”

“So you’re going to make me remember to remind you what you refuse to tell me now?  And I just have to wonder about it for a week and a half!?”

“Well, you’re not going to forget it, are you,” I said.

“You are evil,” he said.  “Cute, but devious.”

Then I remembered how we never even carried out our In-Depth Evil Plot.  I don’t know that it’ll ever happen, actually, but I reminded him of how we’d been planning something.  He came up with this whole idea…we were going to get both of them drunk, take them out on the beach after dark, and leave them.  We would go running off and sit in the car to laugh evilly.

“Oh, much more detailed than that,” I said.  “We even had secret signals and such.”

I was quiet for a moment, then said, in evil tones, “We should go out on April 1^st.”

“NO!” he said.  “No, I refuse!  I absolutely refuse.  There will be no phone calls that day; there will be absolutely no contact.  If you send me an e-mail, you will get a notice that says it was deleted unopened.”

I, of course, was cackling throughout this, and then I said, “Well, it’s all right.  When I tell Katie about this, we’ll probably come up with the idea of naming one of the other 364 days April Fool’s, just for our own purposes.”

“Damn it!” he said.  “I’m going to be completely on edge every day now!  I don’t know if I want to still go to that movie next weekend.  From now on, you’re just coming over to my house.  We will not be going out.  You can come over here, and that’s it.”

Still laughing, I said, “One of these days I’m going to be able to call Katie up and say, ‘Guess what!  He built a bomb shelter!’”  Mwahahahaha.

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The Mormon, Work Anxiety, Some Black Licorice, and a Luncheon Meeting

First of all, I would just like to say welcome to my new readers!  Thank you very much for following.  Please don’t be shy; feel free to drop by and introduce yourselves sometime!

I’m not going to school this semester.  Not by choice—just because the school and the doctor’s office are both run by incompetent gits.  So I now have four months to give them both hell.  I will be going next semester.  Of course, by that time, I will be the equivalent of one year behind schedule.  Brilliant.

I did start back to work again this week.  So I mean, I won’t be a complete loser for four months.  Oh, but I’ll feel like it.

For the past couple months I’ve been rather silent on the Dean the Mormon stories, but no more.  I’ve decided I’m way past the don’t-kiss-and-tell stage now.  (He’s my boyfriend; we kiss.  There.)  So now I can tell stories as they arise without feeling guilty or having to put the lock on, which I dislike doing.

So…speaking of Dean the Mormon…we went to St. Augustine the other day just to be tourists.  I got lost on the way to his house.  (He lives about an hour away from me, and see, I suck at finding places on the first or fiftieth times, and I suck at giving directions.  I’m just not good with this kind of thing.  As I was trying to explain to him, when I learn to drive someplace new, I have to learn it in both the light and the dark, because they both look way different to me, so it’s like two completely different routes.)  Also, I’d never seen it in the light, and it was light while I was trying to find it.  I did manage to find my way out in the dark later, which is saying something, as there are very few lights out where he lives.

We were headed into a bookstore a few minutes after we arrived, and there were some other people headed into the store, coming from the other direction, when The Mormon paused and had that look of, ‘Hey, I know you’ on his face.  Then they paused, too.  And when I saw that they had a baby, I knew that this must be Trask and Co.

Trask is one of The Mormon’s best friends—the one who lives in Gainesville with his wife and their baby, whom, when he came out, Trask said looked like something out of The Dark Crystal.  (Apparently he’s grown out of that stage, because I couldn’t really see it.  And believe me, I looked.)  Trask is also the one who calls dozens of times during two-hour make-out sessions because he knows that when The Mormon isn’t answering his phone, that’s what’s going on.

So they just happened to be going into the same store as us on the same day at the exact same time.  I love weird coincidences like that.  Anyway, so as we parted ways, Trask shook my hand and said, “It was lovely to finally meet you; I’ve heard great things.  This guy has really fallen head over heels for you.”

We went into some candy store later and argued for a while over whether black licorice is good or bad, and then we got a bag of various things, and I put a scoop of black licorice in it, and so then I stuck a piece in my mouth, and he informed me coolly that I was not going to get kissed for an hour.  I laughed and ate more licorice.

We went to the fort, the name of which I can’t remember, but…you know…the fort…and joked about the two-hundred-year-old graffiti on the walls (I’m serious; there was stuff carved from like 1800-something) and some General or Commander Pratt.  And then we made Pratt jokes for the rest of the time we were there.  (Example:  There were several spots where you could, even now, quite easily fall from the upper level to…way far below, and I wondered aloud how often that must have happened back in the day, and he said he didn’t know but it must have happened, and it must have sucked, and I looked down below in this mournful sort of way and said, “Oh, there goes Pratt.”  Stuff like that. ‘Twas fun.)

Then we went to this 50s diner where they actually played all 50s music (which was really cool because I knew every single song, some of which I hadn’t heard in…well, many years).  And back to his house again to watch Say Anything, this kick-ass British show called Spaced, and a little Battlestar:  Galactica.  At one point, he stepped outside to smoke, and his brother came out and said, “Where’s Dean?”

“Oh, probably outside smoking,” I said.

“That was enthusiastic,” Jeremy (the brother) said.

“Ha…yeah, well…I’m just going to eat more black licorice to get back at him,” I said, and ate about six pieces.

I checked the caller ID this morning and discovered that yesterday, while I was out, another stalker called me.  For the first time in months.  This guy liked me back when I was in my journalism class a year ago, and he liked a few of my friends, too.  He did a story on HP fandom, and asked for some of my friends’ names to interview them.  Then he started stalking Katie.  He’d come up to me and ask if I knew where any of her classes were, or when (I very coldly informed him that I did not), and then sent her an e-mail, which I actually still have.

From April 1, 2017…April Fools’ Day, go figure:

“Hey there,

Just wanted to say that it was nice talking to you and thanks for your oppinoin [sic] on the new Harry Potter book.  Also, if we can meet up sometime next week, can u tell me what u look like.  Maybe that way it will make it easier for me to find u.  For me, 6’1”, dark short brown hair, glasses, 150 lbs. hazel eyes.  I like HP, photography, paintball, watching tv, playing my Game Boy, going to the movies, listening to HP audiobooks.  What do u like to do?

Thanks, Colin”

This guy was really weird, if you haven’t already guessed that.  He had this creepy, halting sort of speech, really slow, with odd inflections.  Like a poorly-made robot.  He tried calling both of us several times after that, and neither of us ever answered again.

Tell me, what is with these people, and how do I keep meeting them?

So I went to lunch with Milo today…hadn’t seen him in a few weeks…and this scary thing happened when I got out of my car.  We were walking into the restaurant, side by side, and I don’t know, I guess obviously there’s some pent-up stuff inside, and now I’m not afraid of hand-holding like I was two months ago…anyway, as we were walking in, I tried to grab his hand.  I don’t know what was going through my head.  But I brushed against his arm with mine and reached down for it, and that was the exact moment I realized what I was doing and jerked my hand away again like I’d burnt it.  I don’t think he noticed—I sort of played it off like I’d just walked too close and then lengthened the distance between us.  But then later we walked over to Target and I did it again!  So I just crammed my hands into my damn pockets and kept them there.

(I would just like to say, for those of you who are wondering, that no matter what my feelings for a certain other concerned party, I would never cheat on The Mormon, because for one thing, I’m just not like that, but for another…he’s a really freaking great boyfriend.  I couldn’t ask for better, and I like him a lot.  And even if Milo finally came to his senses all of a sudden and realized that he should have been with me all along…I’d make him wait indefinitely.)

So afterward I went back to The Mormon’s to watch more of Spaced.  That show totally kicks ass, I’m telling you.  Like I said, it’s an hour drive, and I knew that it would be really difficult trying to find his house in the dark, so the entire way there, I felt like I was trying to outrun the darkness.  As I explained to him, I kept checking the rearview mirror, and I could see the sky behind me getting darker and darker, and I was going faster and faster, when at last I hit the traffic on San Jose, and the darkness was coming much more quickly.  But I actually made it just in the nick of time, when a sliver of light still hung in the air.

And now I s’pose I’m finished for the evening.  See, I told you there was a real entry coming soon.

Just a Bunch of Dreams

So…I’m just going to forget everything and write about weird dreams, as I always do when I don’t know what else to talk about.

Just this morning, for instance, I had this dream that I was at work and had volunteered for this fundraiser thing that was going to get me to England (just for like a week) at the end of it.  Everybody was participating, planning to go someplace different.  And we were in some auditorium that looked similar to Sandalwood’s, and Frenchy was behind me, and wanted to know where I was going.  I didn’t want to show him—I didn’t want to offend him if he knew I had a choice between England and France and chose England.  (He was pissed.  I don’t think Frenchy would really be pissed in this situation, but he was.)

Anyway, so there was this assembly, where Dann informed all of us that we could only go one place, and it was voted on, and everybody decided to go to this island, where it was going to be really hot, because it was summertime, and there would be huge mosquitoes and very hot sun, and suddenly I was no longer interested, and I turned around to see what Frenchy thought, but Frenchy was suddenly Locke from Lost, and he looked slightly amused and said, “So if it’s hotter there than here during summer, does that just make it funnier?” or something along those lines….

Then I dreamed I’d decided to go to Dean the Mormon’s house and surprise him by showing up without having gotten lost.

Except on the way there, I thought it’d be even cooler if I walked part of the way (because I was completely insane in this dream, I think).  So I’m driving along, and after a while, I’m not even sure anymore if I’m on San Jose, and then I come to a street sign where San Jose intersects with LV-426, and I think, Oh, good, I remember this, this is the way!  And I turn onto LV-426, which is the name of the place in Aliens that has all the aliens on it.  (We watched that movie last night.)

So I drive down LV-426 for a while, until I realize I’m getting close and park, leaving myself with about a 2-3-hour walk, I do believe.  I leave my phone in the car, because I’m not going to need that (I tell myself).

I park by Stonehenge and start walking.  (Yes, Stonehenge—there is nothing on the way to The Mormon’s house that looks like Stonehenge, but in my dream I remembered passing it every time.  All I could really think, though, as I was walking through it, was, We should so totally film something here.)  It takes like half an hour just to get through Stonehenge, and then I keep going.  The scenery didn’t look at all like Florida—it was probably Virginia.  And I end up walking up big hills, and across this long wooden bridge over a lake (it was more like a dock with twists and turns and different levels and…sort of like a maze…on a dock), and I very nearly get lost many times, and a couple of times take turns that I’m sure are correct and which I shortly realize are not, and then a couple moments later am equally certain that the way I am now taking is correct.  (I think the route was changing.  It was screwing with me, like Hogwarts staircases.)  And somehow I eventually actually make it.

It got dark as I was walking there, and then by the time I arrived was light again.  This makes no sense, because I really think the whole thing only took maybe 2-3 hours.

I arrive at the door, which is a screen door, of a house that looks nothing like The Mormon’s house.  Inside, I can hear his mom and little sister (he doesn’t have a sister—she was the girl from Aliens) eating ice cream.  I knock on the screen door, and his mom says, “That’s probably Ginny” and says, “Come in!” so I walk in, and he’s lying on a couch in another room, watching TV, and is all, “Hey, what’s up?”

His mom offers me ice cream.  It’s strawberry-vanilla-cupcake, her favorite flavor.  He says, “Don’t you mean strawberry-vanilla-chocolate?”

She says, “No, strawberry-vanilla-cupcake.  You know that, Dean, it’s my favorite!”

She explains to me that whoever made this flavor stopped making it years ago, so she’s had this little carton in the freezer for years, and every once in a while takes some out and nibbles on it.  I still want it, though, so she pours a little bit of what was melted off the top—and I mean a little bit into a little bowl for me, and I drink it.  It’s pretty good.  The little girl doesn’t say anything, just keeps eating the ice cream.

I am embarrassed to explain to Dean that he’s going to have to drive me back to my car later, at least, in front of his mom, because I suddenly think she is going to think I’m insane.  So he has no idea how long I’ve been walking, and is just slightly surprised to see me—he’s not all, “WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING!?!?” as anybody would have been had they known what I’d actually done.

Later I finally tell him that my car is near Stonehenge.  (“What’s Stonehenge?” his mom asks, and is ignored.)

“Why is your car there!?” he says.

I explain about wanting to walk, and he says, “ARE YOU INSANE!?  WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING!?”

He stares at me in complete disbelief for a while, and his mom’s saying, “Hello?  Dean?  What is Stonehenge?”

He finally says, “Oh, that’s Ginny’s nickname for the power plant.”

She says, “Hm.  It does kind of look like Stonehenge!”

So he’s still staring at me like he seriously can’t believe me, and then he kisses me.  And he drove me back to my car because I’d realized hours before that maybe it would be a good idea to have my cell phone with me.  He told me to follow him.  Haha.  In the car. Hahahaha.  That’s all I can remember.

A few nights ago I had this other dream that I was lost.  I think I was in North Carolina….  It was storming outside, and I’d taken this exit that, the more I drove down it, the more I thought it was the wrong one….  It was also like 7:00 at night, so I decided to stop at some restaurant and get something to eat as I tried to figure out where I was.  So I drove down this straight and long road for a really long time until finally some buildings appeared.  There was a radio station, and a restaurant, and a gas station, all next to each other.  I went into the restaurant.  There were only a few people there, and they all worked there, and all of them were excited by the fact that they actually had a customer.  They were all also about my age.  So I hung out with them for a couple hours.

Then I went to the gas station, and they were closed, but I filled up, headed back to the restaurant, asked directions…by now it was like midnight…and nobody knew how to get back to where I belonged.  Nobody.  But they all thought I was so much fun and I should just stay there with them, anyway.  Like running off and joining the circus, I guess.  I insisted, however, that I had to leave, and suddenly there was this little old guy sitting by himself in a booth that nobody had noticed, and he seemed all wise and stuff, and he gave me wise directions:  “If you find yourself lost, go back the way you came.”

Uh…of course, why didn’t I think of that?  Drive back down the long and straight road and get back on the highway!

Later I ended up in a J.C. Penney’s where they had gingerbread cookies and lots of other cookies, too, but I was mostly excited about the gingerbread ones.  Except I was also kind of sad at having lost all my new friends at that restaurant.  And it was still dark and stormy outside.

And that’s about it.  The next update will be a real one, unless I have more particularly remarkable dreams.

I forgot to shake hands with the chimney sweep!

At 7:30 this morning, my mom calls from the doctor’s office and informs me that they faxed my records to UNF on December 20^th.  My wrath now lies completely with the school.

At 9:00, the chimney sweep arrives, and I am instantly reminded of someone, although I am not quite sure who.

When he goes outside and comes back in with his giant vacuum (which frightens the dog, much to my amusement), I suddenly realize that he reminds me eerily of Captain America, both in voice and face (and even odd sense of humor).

He begins cleaning the chimney, and I ask casually whether he gets many jokes about Mary Poppins.  He smiles and says, “Just don’t ask me to sing or dance, and we’ll be good.”

As the chimney sweep is leaving, I ask him if he has any kids at FSCJ.  He has no kids.  (“Man, do I look that old to you?”)

At 1:37 a.m., I decide I am tired of talking in this annoying tense and switch to something a bit more conventional.

Actually, I don’t feel all that much like writing at the moment.  And I’ve just figured out what the problem is.  When I go for long periods of time without updating, you’d think I would be seriously in the mood for it, but what happens is, I end up having so many stories, I can’t possibly include them all, and I dislike having to pick and choose, so I just…don’t do it at all.  What I need to do is just decide on a place to begin and…begin.  Tomorrow.  If I promise an entry tomorrow, will I actually carry through with it?

This has been a completely pointless entry.  My apologies.  I’m sleepy.  Good night!