Hatching an unnecessary Plan

A week ago, I got these earth-shattering words. "You're afraid of people! Haha! What a queer! Man, I can't believe my son is THAT gay! As a matter of fact, queers usually aren't afraid of people, especially MEN! Hah hah hahh! Gaaaay!"

My Dad is bad with words sometimes. What he meant to say was "Look, I don't like going into stores by myself while you sit outside and sweat. Come in with me, you might see something you like." Whilst that's true, that's precisely the reason I DON'T go into stores! That, and I usually forget to bring a shirt. And...it's not fun going into a store after sweating for five hours. I will bring a spare shirt from now on.

My parents think I'm afraid of people. It's not that I'm afraid of them, I just don't like them. I am learning to like them though. Most people are nice if you're nice to them, I've learned, and more than most of them leave you alone. The others wield machetes and axes and are thusly easy to single out...and avoid. Some of them even wear noserings and have retina piercings and stuff. Creepy.


Then I got challenged by my Mom. "Wow, Kev, it isn't wrong to be sensitive to your feminine side- that doesn't make you gay at all! It just means that you have a healthy respect for women. Even if you were gay, that wouldn't make you a bad person, not at all. We would accept you still with open, loving arms."

My Mom is bad with words sometimes. What she meant to say was "Kev, you know you look twice as conspicuous sitting in the car than going into the store, right?"

She speaks with knowledge beyond her years. So, I began taking baby steps. I went into Love's with my Mom and Brother to get some coffee. Then I went into Love's by myself to rob them get a refill with that awesome new cup. Vengeance will be mine!



So, this weeks step, I will be venturing into a teenager-filled, happy-go-lucky place of vengeance (I may be describing it wrong). As you know, I have a teenager phobia, because...uhh...well, they creep me out, for one. With their closed-minded, free-thinkingness. And their hipster qualities. Oh, and their tendency to befriend others their age. They are also sometimes unstable.


I've got to (not that I am dreading it) work again this weekend. It isn't so bad, you know. You get a sense of accomplishment. Plus learn a trade. And make cash, with which to purchase things you don't need.

Yet, as I had spent two or so years addicted to the Internet, being up at all hours, I lost some sense of responsibility. Actually, I did not have a sense of responsibility to begin with. I don't know how my parents could have broken my Internet addiction. I think it's a case where you just have to hit rock bottom, which I did. God has kept me from "backsliding" into the wallowing pit of despair known as Internet addiction.

After that, I began cooking meals for my Aunt and Granny for about 8 months. Lots of responsibility, lots of work. I got paid ($40 a week or something), learned a bit about cooking, matured, and gained TONS of memories. Like that time I actually, by some force of good or evil, I do not know which (God knows), made good meatloaf. Wow. It's like stumbling on the cure for cancer, and not being able to recreate it. You try and try...but the cure always comes out dry or bland. Sadly, on occasion, dry and bland.


Then I did work with my Dad, sometimes working four days a week. Man, how exhausting. A workday is 10-14 hours in the sun, getting up at 2:30 or 3 AM. That also lasted for 7+ months. Right about as summer ended I lost the will to go on, and also the work dried up. However, I retained my ability to stay on a daytime schedule. That made way for my Dad to go serve his time in jail (luuuuck). Now he's out and fully licensed, and we're at it again. How long will I last this time?

It's all about, in my eyes, maturity. Like the Apostle Paul says in I Corinthians chapter 13 verse 11, (quoting by memory): When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I reasoned as a child; but when I became a man, I put away childish things.

1Co 13:11 (what it actually says): When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things.


OK, not too far off. I am writing scripture on my walls what for to memorize them. Fruits of the Spirit from memory: Love, Joy, Peace, Longsuffering, Gentleness, Goodness, Faith, Meekness, Temperance (Galatians 5:22-23).

[Galatians 5:]

22	But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith,
23	Meekness, temperance: against such there is no law.

Yes...yes...coming along quite nicely. Now I just need to figure out what on earth a fruit of the Spirit is! Could it be an apple? AN HOLY ORANGE?!?!



In other news, I think (think) I found a cool study aid thing. One of these days, I'll confirm just what a sea of brass is (sea in I Kings 7:23 also means "artificial basin"). And also, since I like this Bible so much...I am, I guess, picky about how a Bible looks- too small or big of print and I have much trouble reading...I want to get a cover for it, for so that I can take it with me. It's a dangerous world out there; just yesterday, a fly actually pooped on my Bible! I saw it right before my eyes.

Either that or, as my Pa antagonized, it was laying maggots on it! Eeeeeeeew!!



[plan hatched and set in motion; update sometime this week]

Team A Update- July 21st, 2007

Welcome the "Pondering" tag.


In the last few days, I have been writing TA script. I no longer am concerned as to whether it comes to fruition in animated or book form, the important thing is that I do write it. Later it can be converted into either. I am currently just about to do a skip in time of a few hours. So far, Ness has broken Jayme and Dan out of jail (detention, improvement training), bought them clothes and some survival gear (like $6,000 worth), and said some stupid stuff she doesn't understand why she said.


Much later, she will hurt some jerk whilst talking on the phone. She is calling back to her Ninja school (they're not supposed to do that in her case, as she barely just left), talking to the headmaster. He is a very good friend of her late brother's, and he raised her since she was two or three. His name is Samuel. Anyway, she is talking on a payphone, then some guy rides his motorcycle up. He is wearing a leather jacket and stuff. She leans out to tell him she's going to be a while, to which he replies (stupidly), "That's okay. I'm enjoying the view."

I am not sure yet how she strangles him- that is, knocks him out, not kills him. I am sure that I very much enjoy reviewing the script, as that allows me to change happenings. For example, there are several things at the beginning of the script I've had to change due to events several pages later.

I do think I would enjoy writing a book (enjoy is another word for love!), but I am not sure how I would go about it. It allows me a vastly superior medium than Flash, as...it would take perhaps up to 25 hours to tell the story- and I am talking animation time, not time to make the animation. That would take hundreds of hours. Probably an hour for each minute of animation, plus time to learn. So over 1,500 hours. Then voiceovers would take time. Add another 30 minutes for every minute of animation. Whew. How do people do it? Perhaps I am exaggerating.


On the flip side, if I wrote a book, I would have trouble ending the story, as well as timing it. Each book would cover a few months, likely. My fear would be ending the story- I still do not know how it will end. I have a general idea, but no...happy, well-tied-together ending. In Read or Die, it ended with them kinda just going on about their lives. That...I don't know. I guess I would prefer that over them all eventually dying, lol, but still.


The first step, I suppose, in writing a book, is to read books. I would have trouble getting behind a character- the Team will be together almost constantly, so it's not like I can switch to what's happening to another character from what's happening with this character. I love doing character thought processes. It allows the character to say so much more than they would be saying if it were verbal- another leg up book form has over Flash.

I assume it's only a matter of finding a book, or, perhaps genre, which provides an example of that type of writing- that is, depicting an event from a perspective other than one of the characters, yet also without a "storyteller" angle, or a "log of events" angle.

I find myself wondering what a graphic novel is like? I should order one. Just so you know, graphic novels are comic books, but heavy on the book. I guess. Not graphic in that sense. You know, like, dead people.


Speaking of which, recently I heard, on the same Harvest program which I saw Fred Stoeker (no time to check for spelling!) on, a Christian who makes comic books. He says he uses the same talent pool as Marvel or DC. That's encouraging.

I suppose if TA can sell, it can be produced. Right? After all, that guy does not hire from the same talent pool as Marvel and not make money off of his product. If he did not make money, he could not hire from that talent pool. Tomorrow is church. I am excited. Details tomorrow.



Possibly the best picture of Lionel and Precious.

Church This Week

So, my Daddy didn't make it to church this week. His excuse? Hmm. I think it was "I gotta cover up the hay for four hours!" That's good though.

As, this has been the best day of church yet. There were a lot of people- I surmise they are coming down from summer vacation- and I met one new person, named Santa. He has some children, I do not know how many. One of them is named Huey.

Last week, I asked Pastor RJ if they had a church directory. "Sure, sure, Kev," he said wearily. "Actually, next week, we'll have one made up juuust for you. With the addresses blanked out..." My grin froze as I processed it. "Ahahaheheh," I laughed nervously after a few seconds. He walked away. I shrugged.


It's sort of a small church, and if three people stand side-by-side width-wise in the entrance-room, it blocks the path. So when you're making your way through there, typically there are people on one side, and typically you're walking with someone. So you block the way. Then someone talks to you, so you have to stop. It's a constant battle of watching your back, and not blocking the way- that is, letting people through when they need through. But they're getting stopped by people, too. It's like a really slow freeway with hundreds of arms attempting to grapple you.

So, I had just looked. Then someone elbows me out of the way. It turns out it's a guy whose name I won't disclose. He mumbles, "Out of my way," angrily, and storms past. Then he stops and says, "just kidding" and shakes my hand. Rofl. I am glad there is someone there who shares my sense of humor. He is somewhere around my Dad's age, but I relate to older people better. Young people, all sorts of things in their heads I am not sure of. They're all like, "hey man, let's get stoned!" then they crack that stupid joke about Saudi Arabia.


I caught up with him, and told him I thought someone was trying to kill me (as he shoved past). He got a kick out of that. "Well, hah, I get that all the time. I used to be a trained assassin, actually." "Wow, really?!" "Yeah. That was back when I was Catholic. When the Pope needed someone...removed from office, I was the public petition he signed for their...impeachment. I wasn't the only one, he had a lot of people "dropped into the pit," as he called it."



He has a daughter with an awesome name. She's like, three or something. Everyone was chatting and such, so Pastor RJ forwent the singing. He said that, due to "certain peoples'" gross exaggeration (at this point he looked to me, indicating everyone should follow my example), our fellowship was probably more pleasing to the Lord. I've never seen so many people talking to each other in such a small space. The room is a good size, but...with all the tables and chairs, whew.


Anyway, the last time I had this much fun at church, my brother and Dad did not go to church. And this time, they did not go to church.

I think the problem- and I am not yet discounting the possibility it is their very presence there- is the constant "bickering" that goes on when me and my brother are in the same car. You see, when a parent says something normally not discouraging or annoying in ANY way, then a sibling adds "YEAH KEV," it compounds it, and at the same time, makes it as bad as if that parent had said it, as that parent does not retract the statement in any way. You know, approving the statement by silence.

That's annoying. It totally, and completely, guts the whole purpose of church (merrymaking; or at least not being in a horrible mood!). This week I felt very happy, like I felt the first week I went to church. The following weeks were dismal- not so much the church, but the car ride there.

So, I think I will begin driving in a separate car (Al Gore would be rolling around in his grave!). The 1989, 8-cylinder Ford (Al Gore's grave would catch fire from friction from the speed of his rolling at this point!). I also like to listen to KLove on the way to church. My Dad dislikes Christian music (all music, but he only has occasion to hate Christian music), so we don't listen to it much on the way there. It is, to me, I suppose, a way of preparing myself for fellowship at church. Hopefully, if we drive in separate cars, it will bypass the annoyance.




I'll post soon about KLove. There's a story to tell. Anyways, after church, me and my Mom went to Walmart. I got a new pillow. Now, the cheap pillows cost $5. The good pillows cost $15. I got a $15 pillow. It is three times the size of my old pillow (also, three times firmer, so it is actually sixteen times the size of my old pillow!). I am already sleeping much better- I don't have a headboard on my bed, as I need access to the closet;

The closet does not have doors on it, so there is a wall at the head of my bed for a few feet, then air (the closet begins). A 2-foot-wide pillow hits this walless section, and spins. This pillow is 3 feet wide, so it does not spin at all. It is great. All the pillows had pictures of women sleeping on them. These women seemed to have thought ahead enough to slip into a revealing (comfort is the word!) nightgown, yet forgot to cover themselves up with a blanket and/or sheet.

Being the savvy buyer I am, I looked for the woman who looked the most comfortable. Now, for being asleep, a lot of them were smiling. I assume they must have been dreaming of how sweet their sleep was with that wonderful pillow they were resting their head on. So, now the question was, "who is having the best dream?"

I selected one of the biggest pillows. I figure, if there is more space to rest your head, there is a higher chance of dreaming a dream of how sweet your sleep is with this wonderful pillow you are resting your head on. Yes. Savvy defines me in five golden-blue letters.

Also, I got a lollipop. I know what you're thinking. "Lol, Kev buying a lollipop." Well, this one said, "Sour Green Apple."

What does "sour" mean to you? Does it mean, "corn syrup sweet?" It doesn't? Oh, wow. Because this lollipop has NO SOUR AT ALL. It's SO sweet, the only thing I can compare it with is banana flavored ice cream. Yuck, yet I respect your tastes if you like it. It is "Carousel" brand. I just love those sour blow pops. So you could imagine how bitter I became at Carousel brand. You know, maybe that's it- you're so angry that the lollipop is not sour at all, you become sour yourself.

I am kinda worried that I am so upset over a lollipop not being sour.




I took some pictures on the way there, and a 20-foot section of road was being rained on (lol!. Here is a picture I took of an 18-wheeler. I did not realize it at the time, but...have you ever heard of people taking a picture, then, upon reviewing it, learning there was something there they did not intend to photograph? Like, a ghost? Well...if you look below...


A DEMON IS DRIVING IT! You can see him there in the window! He is pointing at me, even! I can't tell if he has four horns, four ears, two horns and two ears, or if that's badly drawn anime hair hairday manifesting itself! Oh, my! I wonder what Satan would transport in an 18-wheeler? Possibly a vat of evil! What if it spilled?! It would create a crater of darkness and despair!


...anyway...I almost didn't go to church this week. I am very glad I did, and this was a lesson for me. I struggled with, if to go or not, and I thought about it this way: if I go, I will not *regret* it. But if I don't go, I will. They'll miss me. Plus Pastor RJ had that church directory for me. It isn't very informative, I guess they just put the church members' names? Huh.

The Cat Chair's Catnip Residue

So, yesterday, I mentioned I gave the kittens some catnip. Well, it was all spread out over the cat chair, where I sprinkled it.

Logically, it was still there today. And apparently, still fresh. Below, Lionel fell asleep on the chair, and woke up a minute later completely out of it. Here, it appears he believes he is Paul in Acts 9, when the Lord blinded him. Paul prays, and sees a vision of Ananias laying a hand on him and healing him:
Welcome the "Jesus" tag, for all things relating to our Lord.

3 And as he [Paul] journeyed, he came near Damascus: and suddenly there shined round about him a light from heaven:
[skip]
8 And Saul arose from the earth; and when his eyes were opened, he saw no man: but they led him by the hand, and brought him into Damascus.
[skip]
10 And there was a certain disciple at Damascus, named Ananias; and to him said the Lord in a vision, Ananias. And he said, Behold, I am here, Lord.
11 And the Lord said unto him, Arise, and go into the street which is called Straight, and inquire in the house of Judas for one called Saul, of Tarsus: for, behold, he prayeth,
12 And hath seen in a vision a man named Ananias coming in, and putting his hand on him, that he might receive his sight.


Obviously, he was overwhelmed, and fainted. He laid there for a few more minutes, then got up and started falling off balance backwards, until he collapsed in the other corner of the cat chair:

As you can see, Popoe walked up. In this scene, he has only been on the chair for a few seconds, and the catnip would not have kicked in. Lionel pauses for at least 25 seconds, his head slowly rocking side to side until he, without warning, exploded, sounding like a drunk slurring his words:

You can see that the catnip is beginning to do its thing on Popoe. Lionel was halfway crying as he slurred his words, trying to get his point across.

Lionel becomes delirious, recounting "his" experience on the Road to Damascus. By this time, Popoe is out of it, too. Then, the Yarn Antenna, whom they repeatedly mistake for Jesus Christ, appears.



They go on for about eight more minutes, falling over each other, drooling, running at imaginary things.

Like most drug-induced experiences of Heaven or glimpses of Glory (such as mistaking an antenna with yarn on the end for Christ), there are also bad experiences, such as Popoe experienced, below.



I believe he had mistook Precious or Tiger's claw underneath my door about 5 feet away. Poor guy stood there like that for a few minutes...I really think Lionel can't hold his 'nip. In every other pic his eyes are halfway shut like he's about to pass out.