All sorts of mischief...

Wednesday's post seems to have taken place a long time ago, yet it's only been three days. Time has an odd sense of humor of its own... Well, the summer is fading away and classes start in just over two weeks. I'm excited -- I thrive on school (though not always without grumbling a little bit here and there :)). Oh, I've decided once and for all that I'm going to major in graphic design. After flipping back and forth between majors every other day, I will remain with this decision unless I get struck down by lightning or something. To convince myself that I wasn't joking, I went to the bookstore and bought Adobe Creative Suite 2 Premium (Photoshop, Illustrator, InDesign, Acrobat, and GoLive), at a nice student discount. The only problem is that I can't install it because I only have 256 mb RAM in my PowerBook, and you have to have at least 384 mb to be able to install it, period. So yesterday I ordered an additional 512 mb RAM (may as well make it worth my while). I'm impatient for it to arrive but at the same time I can't help but be somewhat disturbed at my impulse spending habits. At any rate, I may start doing some freelance graphic design on the side, which would quickly pay for both CS2 and the RAM. Speaking of graphic design work, one of my friends who's a missionary in Thailand right now told me in a letter today that the Plan of Salvation I made back when I was in the office (you can see it at Blank Slate) has not only come back into use but is also a hit among the missionaries. It made my day. :)

You know, I read through this entry and wonder how anyone but me could find it interesting, but then again I was reading through some other blogs and what might be considered their personal mundane matters were quite interesting. All the same, I'll try to write more interesting posts from now on. :)

One last thing: after a long period of stubborn refusal, I have given in and started reading the Harry Potter series. I'm now halfway through the fifth book and I've found myself captivated by them. My original qualms about the witchcraft and magic parts have entirely disappeared, and I'm certain that it's not because they've deceived me into accepting them, but rather because they are harmless. The books certainly don't inspire me (or should we say "despire"? But technically the opposite should be "exspire," which of course becomes "expire" -- to breathe out -- but "despire" sounds like someone with a quirky accent saying "despair," which is something the devil knows a lot about) to Satanic or occultist practices. So that's that.

And now for something different...

After getting bored of my usual self-introspective entries, I came home from work today and wrote the following:

Creak. The door opened slightly, paused a moment, and then quickly opened just enough to for a thin man with graying hair to slip in.
     "Sorry I'm late," he said, and slipped into a chair, making a nonchalant attempt to push his wind-blown hair into place as he sat down.
     Every eye in the room was upon him. The well-built, immaculately dressed man standing at the front of the room coughed nervously. "Ahem, and who might you be?"
     The thin man stared quizzically back. "What, they didn't tell you?"
     "They? Tell me what?"
     One of the more heavy-set of those around the table interjected, "Listen, you're not supposed to be here. What room number are you looking for?"
     "Oh, any room will do. This one suits me just fine," he said, leaning back in his chair and yawning.
     "Preposterous!" exclaimed the heavy-set man. He pulled out a cell phone and began to dial a number.
     "Hold on, George." The man at the front leaned forward onto the table, frowning at the thin man. "What is your name and what on earth are you doing here?"
     "I have no name, but you can call me Percival." There were a few suppressed chortles around the room, but the thin man paid them no mind. "And as for what I'm doing here, well, I'm not at liberty to tell you that. Sorry."
     "Look, Percival, you really aren't supposed to be here. This is a meeting for the board of directors, no one else."
     "But I am on the board of directors," exclaimed Percival. "I have just as much right to be here as anyone else."
     "Is that right?" huffed George. "I don't recall putting you there."
     "Ah, but you didn't."
     George scowled. "And who did?"
     Jumping to his feet, Percival laughed and pointed his finger directly at the man at the front of the room. "He did!"
     "Davis, what's the meaning of this?"
     The man at the front of the room stared out the window. "I don't know what he's talking about. Really, I don't. Never seen this fellow before in my life."
     George stood up. "Is that true?" he asked Percival.
     "Yes," Percival replied smugly, returning to his chair. He leaned back again, this time crossing his legs on the table. "Never seen him before either."
     "Then what in the blazes are you talking about?" George began to blink rather rapidly, his eyebrows knit together in a dangerous gaze.
     "I don't know. What does the board of directors do?"
     "The man is mad," said one of the others in the room, a man who had been quite silent until now. "Send for the police."
     "NO!" exclaimed Percival, pushing his chair back and leaping onto the table. "I'm not mad, not at all." He then sat crosslegged on the table. "Quite sane, yes, quite sane. Don't you lay a finger on me, now," he said as the silent man slowly reached out onto the table.
     And then the door opened again. Every head but Percival's turned, and every head jerked back with eyes and mouth contorted in very confused looks.

The end. For now, at least. :) (I do feel somewhat ill-hearted for posting an incomplete story -- and for stopping at a cliffhanger -- but I'll finish it and post the rest later on.)

Lots and lots of words

After getting caught up in my journal this afternoon, I did a word count on my journals for the past five years. 1.7 million words. Goodness, I've created a monster! :) (That's not counting my paper journals, either, by the way.) By comparison, the King James Version of the Bible weighs in at around 820,000 words. I think it's time to work on weeding extra verbiage out of my system, don't you? :)

Horror of horrors

So much for posting daily. ~sigh~ Yesterday I read CNN's article on al-Zawahiri's video proclaiming that more acts of terror will follow. They're pretty good at trying to evoke horror ("9/11 and London were nothing compared to what will come next," to paraphrase), but I agree with President Bush that if we allow ourselves to fear, we're playing right into the terrorists' hands. Freedom will prevail. The world may crumble around us, but truth, honor, justice, virtue -- these will be left standing. (I suppose the only question then is who will be left standing with them. :)) A week or two ago I watched Brigham City, a movie about a serial killer in a small Mormon town. By the end of the movie I was faced with a decision: I could become paranoid and assume that nowhere is safe and that killers are everywhere, or I could continue on in relative peace and security. The first grabbed hold of me all that night (yes, there were nightmares :) -- watching murder movies at night all by yourself is not a good idea, I've found), but when morning came around and I had more time to think about it, I decided that I'd rather go on in faith and security (being careful, of course). I don't want my life to be ruled by fear, even if the danger exists. Fear debilitates. Faith strengthens. And if it ever does come down to it, I'd rather leave this world having spent it in happiness, not fear. Along the same lines, no more horror/murder movies for me. Why would I want to create fear? It's not a pleasant sensation at all. And heck, I have enough problems with the devil hounding me as it is -- I don't need to go begging for more. :)