A Playground Terror

I don't know why I am writing in my blog today. Yes, I haven't written anything for two weeks, but why today? I have Death By Chocolate (a beautifully wonderful type of food) right behind me, and I have alot of company surrounding me. I must be mad writing this now, but here it goes.
I was a bad little kid. Oh sure, all you think me as the perfect child, kind, gentle, patient, loving and humble. However, I was a bad kid for most of elementary school.
I remember when I "patrolled" the playground with two friends, keeping the peace. Actually, that is what I told the teachers, I was actually looking for a scrap to get into. I go into a few skirmishes, I actually threw two kids together while I was covering rear for my group. Two blood-thirsty kindergartners attacked, and my weasel like friends ran. I stood my ground, desperately wanting an excuse for a fight. The kids came and I threw them together, and they fell to the ground hurt.
I also got into a minor scrap in a school-wide brawl. I got close-lined and that was the end of me. So this really doesn't matter, as I didn't get a chance to fight.
I once also was sitting in my class while I was in grade 2 when 3 kids ran in. One of them ran past me, so I stuck out my leg and he went flying over top of two desks. Yes, I'm afraid he was hurt. However, I went up to the other kid, who is now my best friend Joe Ross. I told him to get off of my other friend Michael or I'd give him a knuckle sandwich. He ran away, Joey that is, and since then he has stuck close. Maybe he figures my finely chiseled body will protect him from harm. That would explain the reason he joined my at Esso.
I also knocked out someone in tether ball. Now this wasn't my fault, OK so it was but still. The reason why it is a highlight is because I was in grade 3 or 4 while the guy I knocked out was in grade 11. No lies even. This is how it went down:
There we were, two lonely desperado's on the playground. We stood facing each other, the ball hanging limply in my clenched hand. He had a slight grin on his face, like he actually expected to beat me. Well, the game began, and he was just toying with me while I leapt and bounded. My good cousin Kealie was watching as I got ready to smoke the ball. I remember my torso springing back into its normal position, my fist hitting the ball squarely. I remember watching the ball shoot forward, and the guy must have blinked because the next thing I know is the dude was falling to the ground, his glasses flying in a perfect arc above his head. I stood there, stunned that I actually knocked this guy out. After about 30 seconds he started to get up and mutter something about killing "that kid". Needless to say, I ran as fast as I could.
So these are but a few of my violent childhood experiences, and it actually feels good to get it off my chest. Anywho, I shall leave you know as you must be either silently shaking with mirth or telling someone in the house to quit reading my blog because I am not making sense anymore.

Bravery or Craziness?

Let me tell you a short little tale in which I am viewed as a villain. However, I should be considered a blinkin' hero, I could have died if the circumstances would have been different. Let me begin the yarn.....
It was an innocent enough night. I was at the very computer from which this story is being written from, playing some sorta video game. Mom was on the couch nearest to the TV, her back to the three windows that grace the outer wall. The babies were asleep, and papa was in the shower. Derek was sleeping and the girls weren't home, I think they were gone somewheres on a trip. And what was I doing up so late? I was merely playing a game, I mean those things are addicting. Anyways, I was up and that is all that matters.
As I was gazing in a sorta comatose at the screen of the computer when I saw a flicker of light reflect off the screen. Since I was in a trance it didn't dawn on me that it was lights from outside, not inside. I slowly turned around and calmly asked my mom if she had been expecting anyone. Mom promptly said no, and then a little warning flare shot up in my mind. I ran to the kitchen window and saw headlights shining on the shop doors. I told mom and she thought that maybe people were robbing us of all our tools and she told me to do something. I didn't know what to do, I'm a scrawny little nerd! But I ran downstairs and went straight to the gun safe thingy, and grabbed the Ruger. I then went over my mental plan in my head as I vaulted up the stairs.
OK, I am going to unlock the door and slip outside unknown to the thief's. I will then creep up behind the woodpile and take a gander at whats going down. If I see them stealing tools, I will take a warning shot in front of the vehicle and bellow at them to drop everything. If one of them makes a move to run I'll....
I didn't get any farther, because the moment of truth came. I unbolted the door and, with my right hand squeezing the gun, I stepped out. Then I saw two people walking towards the house! I fumbled with the gun, and backstepped into the doorway. The two people looked up and froze at the foot of our porch, and we locked eyes in a silent showdown.
Now it didn't dawn on me that these two fiends were actually my sisters. I was going to capture the robber, that's all there was to it. Only when Rachel managed a nervous "Hi" that I snapped into reality once again. I looked at them, then at my gun, back at them, and then grinned sheepishly. I don't think I'll ever live that one down, me nearly shooting my sisters and all. And on top of this, mom claims she didn't tell me to go outside! The nerve, just cuz she doesn't want to get blamed with me. Shameful of her, making me take the fall for her mistake. And now I just realized that she'll be reading this and shaking with anger, not mirth. So i better leave before I say something I regret.
However, I stick to my story of untold courage and valour, as I could have been hurt or killed if they were robber. Depends on how much they want that power saw.............

So soon...

Well, one week left of classes, and then four days of exams, and then I'm done high school forever. Well, done if I pass all my classes.
What will I be doing in the summer? Well, so far the plans are to work two jobs for July and August. I am staying at the Esso for as far as I know, and then I am going back to work with a local carpenter for a second go round. I worked part time with him last year, and although it was certainly something I don't want to do for the rest of my life, it could be alot worse. It wasn't really bad, just hard work, which is good for me. Anyway, I believe I will get one day off a week for summer, maybe slightly more in August since the carpenter is a farmer as well. I won't be bored anyway.
What about after this? Well, I suppose I'll take two or three weeks off before I go to Nipawin Bible College, just so I can get everything organized.
I also plan to visit a few people before I leave, like my sister in her camp and maybe my cousin and friend at their respected camps.
Then it is off to NBC, an exciting yet scary thing. I know I'll make new friends and develop a better relationship with God, which is the purpose of going. I won't ever be bored as it is a college and it's alot of hard work. I also plan to play sports there, so I can keep my physique as wonderful as it is now. Maybe I'll actually become tougher, if that's possible.
And Bible School isn't a boring place like most people view it. I have heard stories about NBC that twould make a streaker shake his head. Or maybe he'd head straight for the school, who really knows?
But I shall continue to work towards staying on the straight and narrow path that leads to safety, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Girls

I understand that there has been tons of stories and articles written about girls and why they behave the way they do. Now I am about to give a view of girls from my own perspective, which doesn't mean it is right. Bear with me as I venture into the untamed world of the female.
Women, and I think that all of us can agree about this, are confusing. They have a mystic sense about them that males do not have, a mysterious veil surrounding their being. For a normal boy like me, this is both fascinating and extremely confusing. It is almost like girls have a power that draws a guy in, like a moth to a bright light.
One of the first things I have noticed about girls is that most of them will have a small core of close friends that are pretty much sisters to them. Sure, guys have close friends too, but we don't sleep in the same bed with each other or do each others nails. We fight and play sports together, both of which most girls wouldn't do with their friends. Oh I know that there are alot of girls that would fight with their friends and play sports with each other, but it just isn't as common. And on the other side, I don't know any guys who do each others nails or stuff like that.
This nucleus of friends a girl has are usually extremely flexible and supportive. If one of the members of the group has just got a new boyfriend, they all huddle together and giggle alot. If the boyfriend has just left one of the girls, they get into a huddle and cry or mean-mouth the unfortunate soul. This makes the girl feel better and get over the horrific experience much faster. In comparison, a guy might phone up his best friend, talk all tough and tell the friend it was for the best, and then break down and sulk for a long time.
I have also observed that girls tend to toy with a guys feelings. Not that this has necessarily happened to me, but I have seen it done. This can be a good thing and a bad thing, depending on how far they take it. A guy isn't all unfeeling, he just can hide his emotions alot easier than most girls. Don't get me wrong, I know guys who are very emotional and girls who seem to be emotionless. However, on average a guy is less public with his feelings.
Now back to the toying business. If a girl is interested in a guy, she has two main approaches. She could go straight up to the guy and ask him out, which is quite rare. The other way is she sits back and leaves hints that she likes the guy, either by flirting gently or having her friends "accidentally" say something about her crush. The guy, if he is interested, may then make his move.
However, if a girl toys with a guys emotions and doesn't tell him that she likes him, or denies it, she may hurt the guys feelings. This would take alot of toying though, so it is quite unlikely.
Girls supposedly also expect to have guy make the move. Now then, this can bring up an interesting dilemma. Some guys are shy or something, and they don't feel right making the first move. Stupidity, right? I guess so, because if he really wanted the girl he would pursue the opportunity.
Women want to be pursued, to be fought over. Guys shouldn't make the mistake of expecting to steal a girls heart without working for it. A girl wants to know that she is gorgeous, that she is worth fighting for. I didn't know what this meant until a week ago, and I wish I would have know that years ago. Would have been nice, but from this point and time I will try harder to be the man I am required to be.
I think that I am also right in saying that most girls don't want guys that are passive or unadventurous. Women want a dangerous guy, a warrior, a heroic figure. This doesn't mean that a skinny, weak guy like me has no chance. We just have to rely on our character, something that is much more important than looks. But do you know why a woman wants a heroic figure? It's because since they have been small lasses they have dreamed of a Prince Charming carrying her away into the sunset.
For the guys reading this blog, telling a girl they are lovely or stunning does two things. One, it makes you feel good about yourself, and about the friendship/relationship you share with them. It also will make the lady feel really good. You'll notice a change instantly, stress will disappear and a shudder of joy will run throughout there body. A light will come to their eye, a glow in their skin. This is what will make you (the guy) feel good about yourself.
In closing, let me say something that I agree with from a great book I am currently reading. The book is called "Wild At Heart" for those curious, and I highly recommend it. But in the book it mentions how when God started to create all living things, he started off with creatures of the sea and then animals of the air. He then went to land animals, making many different kinds. The he made Man to rule over the animals. Adam was his greatest achievement up to date. Then he topped it all off with a Woman. Eve was God's last great creation, the most beautiful of all creations. Did you see a pattern at all? He kept making more beautiful, wondrous creations every time. From fish to eagles to lions to man to woman. So guys, women are the peak of creation. Start treating them like it. And women, never accept anything less.

Another hunting incident

OK, the thing I have dreaded most (not most, but it sounds good, don't it?) just happened about half a week ago. I got chased by a bear, and it was no puny one by the sounds of things. To tell this story, I must tell you the circumstances surrounding the event.
I don't hunt bear at home because there isn't any bear where I live. OK, so there might be some, but I never see them. So about half a year ago a guy I know told me he had bear on his land. Big ones. Lots of bear. This was enough to send my mind into overdrive and I readily agreed to hunting on his land.
This spring I put out a bait barrel, which is no more than a metal oil drum with a removable top to put the bait in. The bait can be anything, like oats, grease from deep fryers, rotting animals or anything else a bear would eat. So I chained the barrel around a tree and filled it up, then I waited a few days for the bear to get used to it there.
Sure enough, I went back 3 days later and the bear had knocked it over and eaten some oats. I got all excited and scaled my tree stand, but nothing came in except hordes of mosquitoes.
This trend continued for the last month or so, with no bear coming in when I was sitting in a little wooden chair strapped to a tree. Then it happened; the bear came in.
OK, so now you know the background behind the attempted attack, I can tell you about the assault on my manlihood.
I was walking down the pathway, which is no more than a 6 foot wide clearing cut into a huge bush. As I was walking into a clearing, I heard a growl and the sound of trees being bowled over in my direction.
Now when you are being rushed by a beast, you are only concerned about living. I jumped about 3 feet in the air and fumbled around with my gun, whipping it in the direction of the noise. I was halfway in between falling to my knees and standing, so it was hard standing. I then had the sense to run into the clearing, trying to scream but not able to.
As soon as I got into the clearing, I whirled around in every direction and tried to see the bear. After about 30 seconds I called out a challenge, but still nothing. I then proceeded to my stand, and not far from it was a big pile of crap. Now most animals don't poop like this, so I'm sure its a bear.
Anywho, my barrel was cleaned completely out and there was more poo by the barrel, so now I'm scared to even go back there. However, I plan to go out tomorrow, even if it means getting eaten by mosquitoes and a monster bear. But this is all for the greater good, so onward the bluffs!

Grad Photos

My cousin and me before grad


Me and my escort during the Grand March, after the "argument"

Graduation

Alright, bawl me out again, I'm used to it. Yes I know it's been a long time since I last wrote in my blog, and I know that you have been waiting anxiously to read a new entry. And since one major event in my life happened......8 days ago, I might as well tell you about it.
OK, so graduation is suppose to be a fairly serious event, I mean, you only graduate once in your life, right? However, I hate formal events. I mean, I feel so stuffed and fake, I just hate it. So as you probably read in my last blog entry, I decided to wear a duct tape tux, thanks to the creativity of my sister Rachel. Red and blue with Habs logo's gracing the suit, it made a huge impact in the ceremonies, or so I am told.
The first part of grad is when we are in our toga's or gowns or whatever you want to call them Now I was originally going to go up their with no pants to keep myself cool, but I would have my undergarments on for sure. Anywho, I was talked into putting on jeans for this parts of the ceremonies, and it was fair enough. The fan behind me was going at a good clip, but the gowns were thick and I couldn't feel the breeze anyway. Anyway, the tassel on my hat kept going venturing into my mouth, and I'd gag and spit out the strings constantly. I was called up eventually to get my diploma, and then they also decided to throw in the "Best All Around Award", which surprised me incredibly. I mean, I got a weird look on my face, or so I am told. After the boring part of the ceremonies were nearly over, I began to wonder how in the world I was going to get up the stairs in my pants, and get the pants on period. Just before we got off stage we were suppose to throw our hats in the air, as is custom around here (and most other places). Ya, well, to be different I threw mine straight ahead, as my family sat 4 rows in front of me. The hat didn't make it and hit someone in the face. I quickly ducked my head and got off the stage as fast as possible (but with my luck, I was the last one off).
We quickly ran off to the school library to change and get our escorts ready for the Grand March. I ran off to the staff bathroom and somehow got on my very, very tight pants and vest. I ran (OK, I walked as fast as I could as it's impossible to run in those pants) back to the library, and got help getting on my jacket. I quickly got beside my escort, who was my cousin Charlotte, and stood uncomfortably in the lineup. As we proceeded forward, I felt the butterflies in my stomach begin to punch and scream to let them out. No way was I puking during the ceremonies I said, and I then punched my gut to let those creatures know who was in charge.
We came out of the arch around the middle of the pack, and started walking towards the middle of the gym. I heard alot of excited whispers like "What is that guy wearing?" and "I'd hate to be his escort". However, I kept a straight, grim look on my face and sorta glared at the people you were pointing and talking about me and my cousin. We were stopped numerous times for pictures, much to our dismay, because I was sweating to death underneath the suit. We circled the gym twice, and on the second go round I was stopped again, but not for a picture. Some Senators fan had the gall to begin beaking me! Just because I love the Habs and have a duct tape suit doesn't mean I'm a weird person, does it? He began yelling about how the Sens, who were down 2-0 in the series at that point, were so much better than any other team and how they were going to win the cup. Well, I hate cocky, over-the-top fans. I mean, this guy must be hardcore hockey, and that's just not cool. I would have decked him save the fact I couldn't even hug anybody when I had the jacket on and he was about a foot taller and 50 pounds heavier. But whats size when you have guts? My escort pulled me away and we got back on track, walking to the left side of the gym, getting myself ready to go back on stage.
Now another dilemma arose. I couldn't walk up stairs. Yes, this is a problem because even if I did manage to get up stage, it would look very awkward and just plain old wrong. I began to sweat and I couldn't tell if it was the spotlight I was standing in front of or the fact that I was about to make a complete fool of myself. I then decided, with some encouragement from my friends Kelcie and Tamara, to rip open my vest and walk up the stairs backwards. I don't know the reason why, but I could walk up stairs backwards in these pants. All of a sudden the time came, and I stepped forward......
First of all I had to drop off my escort at her seat. I couldn't hug people, as I may or may not have entered earlier, so when she sat down I "pounded" her fist. For those less hip that is when two people punch fists, a sign of thanks. Anyways, I went up to the stairs, whirled around and ripped open my vest. I began dancing up the stairs backwards, my hands in the shape of guns as I pretended to shoot at the crowd. I nearly tripped as I missed the second last step, but I got on stage safely.
I then got help in ripping off my jacket (too hot), and then I sat down in my seat by the fan. I felt bad for the people in front of me for two reasons. One, I was hogging the fan, and two, the sweaty smell that came form my being was being pushed at them by the fan.
After the Grand March it was rather boring, me just sitting in my seat listening to people talk. After the ceremonies I talked to some people, with all of them asking about my suit. Seemed to me that they could care less about me, they just wanted to talk about how I got the suit mad, if there was material underneath, if it was hot (like that wasn't evident!). I then went outside and stripped off my pants in the street (this is true, just like the rest of my story), then drove home. Once I got home, I had my third shower of the day, and then made a fire and partied with my friends and family all night long. I was so hopped up on Pepsi I couldn't think straight, and I suppose it didn't help that I drank some 5 hour energy stuff I had found at a drugstore ( I wonder why there was a warning on it for people under the age of 18?). Anyway, I stayed up till about 5:00 AM with my cousin Joe before I crashed. And thus concludes today story, tune in next time when I try to remember another painful childhood memory.