An ABCs post

Bleah tagged me with this so... I guess I better do it. =)

Sorry, guys... I'm not as cool as Bleah and Eldarwen, so I'm not going to use pictures. (Also, I can't seem to figure out how to get a picture in...)

Warning: this is going to be really random because I'm in a really goofy mood. =D

A. Automatic. A shade of black typically used in MS Word.

B. Bullet casings. They make very unique jewelry.

C. Cats. 'Nuff said.

D. Doberman-Pinschers. All-around cool dogs.

E. Edges. Especially, standing on edges of tall things.

F. Fudge. Very edible.

G. Goats. They look really weird and they eat everything they aren't supposed to, but they're really fun animals.

H. Horses. Also fun animals.

I. Independence. It's what America is founded on, after all.

J. Jumping. As long as I'm on a horse's back, jumping is fun.

K. Kittens. I know I already said cats, but kittens are just in a class of their own.

L. Laughing. Supposedly it adds years to one's life.

M. Meese. The plural of moose, of course.

N. Night. I can actually see relatively better during the night than during the day. Weird, I know.

O. Optics. I wear glasses, so optics are rather important to me.

P. Pine trees. Perfect for climbing, provided they're big enough.

Q. QWERTY. Makes typing easier than ABCDEF would have.

R. Riptide. A ballpoint pen that always finds your pocket and can transform into a sword on demand is just plain old cool.

S. Silence. They say it's golden.

T. Torcs. Symbols of ancient Celtic royalty.

U. Umbrage. An area of comparative darkness, according to Webster's, but it's here because it sounds funny and I couldn't think of another word for U.

V. Velocity. The higher, the better.

W. Wisdom. Proverbs says she's worth more than rubies.

X. Xylophones. They lend an attack sound to the string section in symphonies, so the strings can sound more like a weird piano. (I noticed that recently while listening to some Shostakovich and Stravinsky...)

Y. Yurts. The ultimate in decadent-looking yet portable housing. And it's a fun word to say.

Z. Zippers. I don't know what I'd do without them.

So there you have it. No theme whatsoever, other than Things I Like And Could Think Of Off The Top Of My Head.

I'm going to try to scrape together something less random and more... logical and substantial. =P If anyone has a topic they want me to write about, I'd love to hear it. =)

Some housekeeping...

First of all, Bleah, I haven't forgotten about your music tag. Unfortunately, my iPod has been kaput for the past two and a half months or so, and I haven't yet taken the time to charge it. I'll try to do that soon. =P

Ellie, I have Phillies Phan's copy of Writing Magic sitting next to me on the sofa... I'll post the gist of the Chapter 3 (it is Chapter 3, right?) and the writing prompts soon (probably Wednesday, because I have an exam tomorrow and I'll have to be studying for it). I'm also going to be sending a piece of my short story to you because (again) I think it might be a little too weird for general consumption. (Yes, I know, I really need to get rid of the creepiness that's been finding its way into my writing lately. Sorry.)

To everyone... I'll try ASAP to find a bit of time to write a post with some redeeming value to it. =P

I got tagged by Ellie at The Random Saga of an Author and her Books!

The way I like to say hello:
Hi, Hello, or Hola! Como esta usted?

Once Upon A Time...(finish the sentence):
...in a land far away, there was an old, rusted-out Cadillac sitting in a field of solid-gold poppies.

When I was five my favorite item was:
Paper and pens... they count as one item IMO.

What I like between two pieces of bread best is:
Anything but peanut butter.

When I grow up I want to be a/an:
International human rights lawyer (and author on the side, perhaps).

I like:
Books. And the occasional action movie (of The Matrix or Bourne variety). And rock music. And... well, why don't you just read my profile page...?

I really, really want:
My room to magically clean itself...

I desperately need:
Jesus

If I could color my hair any color I would color it:
It's already colored the color I want it... brown with blond streaks.

People often call me:
Not really. They usually text me. (You didn't think I was going to tell you my name, did you?)

I'm terrified of:
Terrified? Nothing. I mean, I don't like spiders and I'd rather not run into someone who's been in the slammer for assault or what have you, but I'm not terrified of stuff.

The way I like to say goodbye:
Bye, See ya, or Adios

The only rule for this tag (which is originally Bleah's) is that you have to make your own tag and slap it on the end. So I guess I'll give it a shot...

I'm currently reading:
Stylized: A Slightly Obsessive History of Strunk and White's The Elements of Style by Mark Garvey

My favorite website (other than Blogger, Facebook, Twitter, etc.) is:
I Can Has Cheezburger?

My favorite word and its definition are:
exiguous, meaning scanty

My favorite quote is:
"He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose." ~Jim Elliot

The reason I blog is...
I thought there weren't enough youngish bloggers. *sarcasm* Actually, I got invited to the Jabberings blog, so my reason was posting fiction. Now... I blog because I want to encourage other people to search for truth through nonfiction articles and various fiction. And it's fun. =D

If I could live in any other time period and place, it would be:
Ancient Athens. Other than present-day America, Athens was the best time/place to be a woman.

My least favorite food item is:
Sushi. Hands down.

My main goals in life are:
To go into other countries--mainly Eastern European, since I've got a lot of Eastern European in me--and work with international human rights organizations to crack down on human traffickers and the like. After that, I want to become President. (Like that'll happen. =P)

The weather outside is:
Too cold for me. I want to live in California.

Other than blogging, my three favorite things to do are:
1. Read
2. Write
3. Draw/paint

It took me ______ to make this tag.
All day. Admittedly, I did homework and some other stuff, but I'm really bad at thinking of this type of questions.

So... I hope that worked. =P

I tag anybody who feels like doing this. =D

I got an award!

Thanks, Ellie!

[beyondyourimaginationaward.jpg]

Not sure how that pic is going to work... I've never really posted pics before.

The Rules (copied directly from Ellie =D):

1. List 8 stories or books that you would like to live in.
2. List 8 other bloggers who deserve this award.
3. Comment on their blog and tell them they won an award.

8 books... in the order I thought of them (i.e., no particular order)

1. Beowulf
2. The Pendragon Cycle (NOT The Pendragon Series--this is totally different)
3. 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea
4. LotR (even though that answer is really hackneyed by now)
5. The Bible (esp. Genesis and the Gospels)
6. Till We Have Faces
7. The Hound of the Baskervilles
8. The Acts of King Arthur and His Noble Knights

8 bloggers who deserve this award... Ellie got some of the people I was going to do. Oh well. Guess they can get the same award twice... lol.

The numbers mean nothing. I'm not ranking people here. It's just so I can keep track of how many people I've put down without counting all the time. =D

1. Ashley http://imabitrandom.blogspot.com/
2. Bleah http://blonde4christ.blogspot.com/
3. Madeline http://steppingheavenward-myjourney.blogspot.com/
4. Kelly http://kellymarple.blogspot.com
5. Phillies Phan http://godissoveriegn.blogspot.com

I need to follow more blogs or something. This shouldn't be so hard.

I hope this isn't a girly award, because my next three "recipients" are guys... =$

6. Spencer http://drpaleophd.blogspot.com
7. Joshua http://awarriorsheartj.blogspot.com
8. B.L.S. http://leemac5.blogspot.com

Okay, now to comment on the blogs of people I don't really know...

A "Proper Post"... or so they say...

You thought you were going to read about politics, didn't you? Sorry to disappoint. But I really, really don't feel like commenting on 70 minutes of propaganda... er, I mean, the State of the Union address. I was actually going to do a post on socialism and ambition, but I got bored with it. Therefore, something "novel" is on the way.

And yes, that means novel in all senses of the word. I hope.

Recently I entered a novel-writing competition for homeschoolers. (I'll post an update on that when I have an update to post.) To those of you who know me: yes, I'm finally letting my work see the light of day beyond the Jabberings blog.

Anyhow, I thought I'd post a wee bit of one of the books I submitted. This is not a repeat of any Jabberings post... this is entirely new material, people. So enjoy... if you dare. =P


I posted it from MS Word in Courier... not sure how well that's going to work out... somebody tell me if it's goofy.

As far as the storyline goes, suffice it to say that an assassin (Luke) has just been caught by the U.S. government because he was trying to pick off a reporter. When he was being interrogated, he injected himself with a chemical that knocked him out for a few days and... you'll see. Marie is Luke's boss.

If you know anything about car chases, please tell me. I'm not really sure that I captured the feeling of the car chase in this scene very well.

Anyway, moving on...

----------

Luke woke up in the prison morgue the day after he had injected himself. There were bright lights shining on him and people were murmuring next to him. He realized that he was on the autopsy table. He opened his eyes quickly and sat up with a ramrod-stiff back for shock effect. The coroner, doctors, and nurses stared at him, wide-eyed.

“Where are my clothes?” he asked, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. A nurse fainted, and one of the doctors handed him his clothes with shaking hands. Luke took them and got dressed quickly.

“Now if you wouldn’t mind opening the doors I’d be much obliged,” he continued. None of the doctors moved. Then the coroner shook his head.

“You’re still a prisoner,” he quavered.

“Not exactly. I was clinically dead, you know, so technically I’m no longer a prisoner,” Luke returned, and shouldered his way to the doors. The doctors half-heartedly tried to stop him, but it was no use. He got to the doors and found that they were locked. The doctors were buoyed by this and tried to stop him again, more vehemently, but he had the T-119 out in an instant and he burned out the lock on the doors with it. A doctor reached for the lock, but his hand was blistered by the residual acid and he jumped away, clutching his hand. Luke went through and, on a sardonic whim, waved goodbye to the autopsy room.

Upon exiting, he was confronted by a guard, whom he injected with E-37 and relieved of his weapons and uniform. Luke went out quickly, garbed in police officer gear, and got out of the gate to a well-armored police car that happened to be idling outside. He drove away in it, and none of the other officers seemed to notice.

He didn’t bother to look in the rearview mirror until he was well away from the prison. When he did, he noticed that he was not alone. Another prisoner was sitting in the back. He looked haggard, and there were circles under his eyes.

“What’re you in for?” Luke asked.

“Assault on a federal employee. I didn’t want the bugs in my house and told the installer so a little more forcibly than he liked, I guess. I didn’t hit him that hard—”

“I see. Where are you supposed to be going?”

The prisoner cocked his head and eyed Luke suspiciously

“You’re the escort. You’re supposed to know that, not me,” he frowned. Luke shrugged.

“Guess I don’t. By the way, I’m not exactly an escort. Think of me more as a… as a guardian angel. Maybe demon would be more accurate. I’m not going to take you to another prison. I just got out of that one. I’m not going anywhere near any others,” he said. The prisoner nodded pensively.

“So can you get me out of these handcuffs?” he asked abruptly.

“Sure.” Luke handed him the handcuff keys, and he proceeded to unlock the handcuffs. At that moment Luke happened to look in the rearview mirror again.

“Looks like we’ve got a little company,” he quipped. The prisoner twisted around in his seat, and his face fell.

“They want you to pull over,” he groaned. Luke glared at him in the rearview mirror.

“Do you mind telling me something I don’t know? Buckle up. I’m going to see just how well this thing can go. They picked a fight with the wrong person,” he growled. He contacted Marie through his implant then.

“Can you possibly remote pilot my helicopter to my location? I’m in a bit of a bind and I think it would come in handy,” he declared. Marie was silent for a moment.

“It’s on its way,” she replied at length, and hung up. The prisoner looked at Luke from the backseat.

“Are you crazy, mister? There’s no way anybody can pilot anything to you now. Airspace is completely restricted. No civilian aircraft,” he frowned.

“My stuff isn’t quite civilian,” Luke responded cryptically. “Hang on.”

He said it so conversationally that the prisoner didn’t catch on right away and got thrown against the back of the seat. He clung to the door for dear life. Luke sped around a corner, tires squealing. He had the gas pedal floored. The speedometer climbed higher and higher. On a straight stretch, it got up to 150 miles per hour. A fierce grin crossed Luke’s face. He was going fast and loving it.

“I should’ve been a racecar driver,” he muttered. The prisoner, on the other hand, was hugging the bars and the door alternately.

“Can’t you slow down?” he moaned.

“Not unless you want to get caught,” Luke retorted, and threw the car into a tight curve. He saw city traffic up ahead.

“Looks like we’re going a different route,” he remarked. The prisoner’s eyebrows arched, and he closed his eyes and clutched the door tighter. Luke drove up over the median into the oncoming traffic lanes.

“What are you doing?! Are you trying to get us both killed?” the prisoner screeched. Luke turned on the siren and lights and wove back and forth between the honking cars.

“Don’t worry. I’ve done this before.” The prisoner leaned back in his seat, white-faced.

“I sure hope you know what you’re doing,” he whispered breathlessly.

“Oh yeah, I do,” Luke chuckled, and drove the wrong way through a tollbooth. The toll collector yelled at him and shook her fist. Luke only grinned at her and kept going. The tollbooth strained out several of the pursuing cars, so only three were left in the chase.

Then four police motorcycles pulled out in front of Luke, who cursed at them and veered sharply to avoid them. They stayed in front of him, however, forcing him to slow down. He hissed with frustration and slammed his fist into the steering wheel, blasting the horn and startling the police officers. They swerved slightly, which gave Luke just enough time to gun the motor and ram into the back two. They went down on either side of the car, forcing the pursuit cars to slam on their brakes. The other two sped up, but then dropped back beside Luke’s car. They pulled out their guns. Luke ducked and yelled at the prisoner to do the same.

“Your helicopter is waiting at the end of 17th street,” Marie said over Luke’s implant.

“13th… 14th… 15th… 16th…” Luke counted under his breath.

“17th!” he shouted, and spun into the street. The prisoner started saying his rosary. Cars came left and right, honking at Luke and causing massive pileups. Luke raced to the end of the street and leaped out of the car. He had the presence of mind to open the prisoner’s door, and the prisoner jumped out and ran. The helicopter’s shields deactivated just long enough for Luke and the prisoner to get in. The prisoner gawked at it for a nanosecond, but Luke screamed at him to get in, which he did with no further discussion. Luke closed all the doors and started the rotors.

“Come on, come on, come on!” he grumbled. The rotors started turning, and the helicopter lifted off. A police car rocketed by just underneath it as it lifted off, and the car crashed into a building. Luke powered up all the helicopter’s shields so he could go undetected and flew away toward Sigma.

A few minutes into the flight, he got a direction from Marie to go to Camden.

“I think you might find something of interest at 1253 Ravenswood Lane. Be prepared to confront somebody you’ve been chasing. Call Edgar Lockhart at (609) 353-1228. He should be able to tell you what’s going on,” she said, and would say nothing more. Luke did as he was told, and arrived in Camden at precisely the right moment.


Weird, I know. But I would like to learn how to write a car chase. =D