Len, a Blog

Nanowrimo, Day 30 - 50,032 words

2010-12-02T09:55:00.000-07:00

Well friendlies, two days ago I hit a milestone in my life. I wrote fifty thousand words in a novel. In a single month. That's 152 pages. I did it, and I'm glad I did. While the story is only 1/3 or half over, the fact that I managed to hit 50,000 words in a single month is awesome. I feel as though I did something great.

Now though that I am finished with NANOWRIMO, I'm going to get back to normal posts around here. I've noticed recently that the most traffic generated from my blog comes from the invitations post I did back in September. So I've got something special for all you people who liked the invitations I did for my house warming party.

Nanowrimo, Day 19 - 34,000 words

2010-11-19T07:06:00.002-07:00

I'm up to 34,000 as of last night. That's 102 double spaced pages. Longer than anything I've ever written before. It'll be nice though when the month is over to get back to my normal posts.

Nanowrimo, Day 15 - 28796 words

2010-11-15T22:49:00.000-07:00

Well, we're halfway through the month now, and I'm honestly surprised at myself. I didn't actually know if I had it in me to keep going through this project. I'm up to 87 pages in just 15 short days, and on chapter 5 of the story. It's looking like I'm about 1/5th of the way through the story, which means that at the rate i'm going I'll be up to over 400 pages by the time this is done. Granted, I'll only be at 160 by the end of the month, but 160 pages in a single month is not something at which to scoff. That means though, at the rate I'm going I should finish sometime in mid January. I'll hold myself to that schedule for the moment, and we'll see what pans out.

For now though, no excerpt for today. You'll need to email me for a manuscript. Just send the email to the[dot]mystern[at]gmail[dot]com

Nanowrimo, Day 12/13 - 22610 words

2010-11-13T00:09:00.000-07:00

It's midnight here, so I don't know if it's day 12 or 13, but I do know that I'm done writing for the night. I've committed myself to hitting 30585 words before Monday morning, so the weekend should be interesting to say the least.

It's weirdly awesome watching a story unfold as you write. It started as just words and grew into an actual story, and now it's becoming a book. I'm already starting chapter 4, and have 67 pages. How awesome is that? Full of awesome, that's how much.

Anyway, here's a short excerpt of what I've written today:

The knife stuck solidly into the log and the now headless body of the chicken began flapping wildly. Having seen this happen when Arianna had killed the chicken, Avery quickly attempted to grab hold of the feet. Unfortunately, as he was attempting to grab the feet, the wings of the chicken spread and it rolled onto the ground. Laughter erupted around Avery as he attempted to catch the headless chicken. Flopping and rolling just out of his grasp, Avery felt something deep within his gut. There was something wrong with the movements of this chicken. As he watched it carefully, for the second time that day, the world seemed to slow to a crawl.
Looking at all aspects of the chicken as it danced, he realized the reason the movements seemed unnatural. Tracing the form of the chicken, Avery saw a slight wavering, as though heat were emanating from the chicken. Upon closer inspection, Avery realized that the source of the wavering lines of force was Thyme. Though he stood with a passive expression on his face, Thyme’s intense eyes watched the chicken.
Though all others surrounding Avery were watching the chicken, it suddenly became apparent to Avery that Thyme was casting a spell on this chicken, causing it to dance. Looking at the nature of the spell, Avery saw that the chicken moved every time the wizard’s eyes moved. Like a puppet on strings, the chicken moved to wherever Thyme looked next. While all other eyes followed the movement of the chicken, the chicken followed the movement of Thyme’s eyes.

Nanowrimo, Day 10 - 18,461 words, Blocks

2010-11-11T09:14:00.000-07:00

I know it's day 11 bitches, so shut up. I didn't get finished writing last night until midnight. I'm at a point right now where I've run into a slight writers block. While I managed to struggle past it and catch up on my word count, I have to say writers block sucks. I will say that I'm a little surprised that my first bout of writers block didn't occur until a full 50 pages into the story. That's a good thing right?

So I've gotten more people on board with reading my little novel, and everyone's saying it has potential. I'm holding out until it gets a little farther along myself. In any case, here's a paragraph of what I've written recently.

Giddy at the prospect of the violence he was about to cause; Ethan’s shape began to lose solidity. As he strode forward he reached his left hand out to grasp the oracle’s throat. Smiling at the terror on her face, he reached his right hand and phased it through her chest. As the warmth of her body touched his hand he could feel the blood rushing from her chest. Ethan’s hand followed the flow of blood to the source.
The oracle gasped as the Shade closed his hand around her beating heart.
“Tell me what you know,” he hissed.
Swallowing hard, she shook her head back and forth.
Ethan smiled evilly as he allowed his hand to regain some of its substance. An ear shattering shriek filled the room as the Oracle felt Ethan’s hand begin to push her flesh out of the way.
“I’ll ask you again oracle. Tell me what you know of the prophecy.”
The oracle shook her head once more and somehow gained the strength to say, “The knowledge I have will never be shared with you. You will be defeated Shade. You’re nothing more than a pawn yourself, and you’ll soon be sacrificed by your master to further his cause.”

Nanowrimo Day 8 - 16,300 words

2010-11-08T22:53:00.000-07:00

I've learned a few things through writing this novel. The first is that 50,000 words is nothing. I'm more than a quarter of the way there, but only on the third chapter of the book. I always used to wonder how it was that authors could pound out a thousand pages in a single novel. Now, already 49 pages into the process, I'm seeing that not only is it possible, but rather probable to achieve if you have a good story going.

The second thing I've learned is that publishing the novel online is a bad idea if I ever plan on being formally published. Thus I've decided that in keeping you updated I can share with you a single, eventful paragraph from what I've written that day. If, based on that paragraph, you'd like the full story, you can send an email to: the[dot]mystern[at]gmail[dot]com

Perhaps the final thing that I've learned is that I still love writing. It's been years since I've written consistently, and I'm finding the passion once more. While not everything flowing from my fingertips is pure gold, there's a lot of nuggets spewing forth. It'll take some refining once it's finished, but I think that I'm actually going to be able to publish this novel.

So, without further adieu,

Panic gripped Ethan as he watched his heart burn over the blue flames and pain spread from his chest to the rest of his body. As his vision began to blur, he could see the flames burning beneath his heart turning from blue to black. Screaming in agony, Ethan was sucked into the flames, and suddenly everything within his entire view changed. Darkness clouded the world.

Nanowrimo Day 6 - 12001 words. And revisions

2010-11-06T21:16:00.000-06:00

So, I've been slacking off. I didn't write for two full days. I made up the time today, and got back on schedule. I must say that it's turning out to be quite the story. I'm digging it if I do say so myself. I've had some invaluable assistance from a couple people in reading what I was writing, both with storyline and writing style. Due to this assistance I've made some revisions to what I've previously written.

Also, I'm not sure who it is that is coming to visit my blog, but you're all welcome to make comments and suggestions :)

So, since I've made the revisions, here's the complete first chapter.

"Lords of Darkness"

Chapter 1

He was going to die. Of this one immutable fact Redding was now certain. Millennia of life had given him the illusion of invulnerability. While he conceptually knew that at some point his existence could come to an abrupt halt, he had long since forgotten the fear this truth could cause. Coursing through his veins he now understood what mortals lived with every day. Fear and loathing mingled within his mind as his vision began to blur and the dark figure before him walked slowly forward. He had simply never imagined it would be like this. He had never imagined the prophecy would call him, the youngest of the Lords to be the first to die. Yet here he was, chained to the wall in a dark room, with the shadow looking at him evilly.
“It’s almost time, isn’t it?” the sinister voice asked. Redding could barely see the shadow in the dark room. Bare, and made entirely of concrete, the room was less than six feet long in any direction. More of a closet than a room. The only light was that which intruded from beneath the metal door. Carved into the concrete floor of the room was a spell. Of what origin or meaning Redding could not be sure, though he had his suspicions. Filling the grooves in the floor which made the spell was the blood Redding had already lost. He had already lost so much blood.
Redding moaned weakly. Never had he imagined his actions could have created such a monster. He knew he was not a good man. Of that he was certain. But he’d never imagined that his sins would lead to the creation of such a being. This . . . thing, for he truly could not be called a man any longer, knew all Redding’s vulnerabilities. All of his weaknesses. And now, with Redding’s death, he would grow all the more powerful.
The hard concrete scraped against Redding as he twisted, trying to find some sort of comfort for his now skinless back. As he did, the manacles chained to the wall cut deeply into Redding's wrists. Even as close as centuries ago, Redding had found rock to be quite comfortable. But the recent centuries in his human form had softened him. He’d become used to the comforts of humanity. He supposed now this was the price to pay.
“Not even a word?” Snapping back to reality, Redding realized the darkness before him was speaking again.
“You’ll never win,” Redding snarled with a sudden fierceness roiling inside. “Your very presence shows the invocation of prophecy. A prophecy in which you die.”
“Ah death,” the shadow replied calmly. “You should be meeting him any minute now. There’s not much blood left inside you now is there?”
His spurge of energy gone, Redding’s head hung limply as he rasped for breath. The shadow was right. Death was close indeed. Though Redding had lived far longer than any human would have survived, even he, one of the few Lords left in existence could not ultimately survive the torture being given.
Not many creatures could be skinned alive and live through it.
As the blood pouring from Redding’s body slowed to a drip, the spell carved into the stone floor began to glow faintly. Breath hissed through the shadow’s teeth as he inhaled sharply.
“It’s time. Let’s take that immortal soul you have and drink to a long life of prosperity and power; shall we?”
Drawing the knife from his belt, he walked slowly forward. Gaining substance as he drew close, the being took on the form of a tall, black haired man. Redding knew this to be an approximation of the human body he used to have. It was not possible though, to erase decades of exposure to the Dark Realm. Though he was solid enough, his features held a feral, wild look, which Redding knew to be the very essence of evil which now flowed through the man’s veins.
“You took my life from me,” the man stated with a quiet power. “I’m simply returning the favor.”
With that he plunged the knife into Redding’s skinless chest.
While the man standing before him thought of himself as a lone agent, seeking revenge, Redding knew the truth. He was simply a part of something much larger. Larger even, than Redding himself. By killing Redding, the man was enacting an ancient prophecy. One which would ultimately lead to the demise of all Dragon Lords, unless the pawn was found which could collapse the thread. For the sake of his fellows, Redding hoped the pawn could be found.
Drawing out the knife, the silvery substance of Redding’s soul hung from the tip like silken thread. As Redding’s eyes closed for the last time, he bore witness to the man carving a spell with the knife into his own flesh. Redding knew with his final thoughts that his fellow Dragon Lords must find their pawn. Only the one so named in prophecy could defeat the dark man now drawing Redding’s very soul into his flesh.

The alarm buzzed once more, the nine minutes of Avery’s third snooze already over. He groggily reached to the alarm clock sitting on his side table to check the time.
“Shit!” he exclaimed, adrenalin suddenly pumping through his veins. He was running late. He must have hit the snooze button four times, not three. While twenty-seven minutes of sleeping in left Avery with enough time to get ready and get to work, thirty-six minutes did not. Avery wondered who had come up with nine minutes for the snooze button. Didn’t it logically make sense to use ten? While it made sense to Avery, every alarm clock he had ever owned snoozed for only nine minutes.
Jumping out of the shower and quickly drying off, Avery selected some clothes from the clean pile on his floor. He’d still not gotten around to putting them away, and knowing himself as he did, he likely wouldn’t ever get around to it. The clean clothes would be worn, discarded to the floor and kicked into a semi-clean pile. After his clean clothes had been exhausted he would move to the semi-clean pile, which would cause a dirty pile to be created. He’d go for as long as he could without bothering to lug his clothes to the laundromat. Such was the life of the bachelor.
Simply snatching a tie from the floor and not bothering to adorn it, Avery ran out the door. Sprinting as quickly as he could across the parking lot of his apartment complex, he saw the bright lights of the bus bearing down on the stop on his street. Racing with all the speed he could muster, Avery sprinted across the lawn. Fortunately, the driver of the bus saw Avery racing to the stop and slowed his approach. Stopping in front of the sign marking the bus stop, the bus driver grinned broadly as he opened the door.
“Running a little late are we Avery?” he asked as an out of breath Avery stumbled up the steps and into a seat.
“Shut your face Jim,” Avery replied between gasps. “I woke up late.”
“You need a good woman to wake you up in the morning.”
“And you need to stop sounding like my mother.”
Jim grinned again, his crooked teeth flashing as he closed the door. Avery and Jim had become acquaintances when Avery had started the early shift at work. Avery knew very little about Jim, other than he had a son slightly older than Avery and the two of them didn’t speak. From what he could gather, Jim’s son blamed him for the death of his mother. Avery knew that the death of his wife had hit Jim extremely hard. Deaths due to cancer brought some families closer together. Others, it left ugly scars that would never heal.
The ride to work passed uneventfully, as it always did. Avery worked for a large corporation testing systems the company used to process information from one aspect of the business to another. He hated the job, with all the redundancies associated, but it paid better than any other job one could obtain without a degree.
This is not to say that he was not working on his degree, it was simply taking far longer than Avery ever would have expected. Unfortunately, he could not go to school full time and maintain his position at work. His love of engineering was leading him to a four year degree that, at the rate he was going, would take ten. A stubborn refusal to take out student loans though necessitated that he work while going to school.
As the bus slid to a halt in front of the building where he worked, Avery rose from his seat making the final tugs to his tie. Waving a goodbye to Jim, he exited the bus and meandered to the entrance of the job he loathed. The four story building looked squat and ugly aside the neo-skyscrapers standing to either side. It could have been a parking structure for all the beauty the building held. Perhaps it once was? It wouldn’t surprise Avery in the slightest if he discovered the company had purchased a parking lot to be converted into the technical operations center of North America.
Sighing as he pulled his badge from his belt, Avery walked to the secured door and swiped his security badge. The magnet securing it released as Avery tugged slightly on the door. A means to an end, he thought, this door was simply the ugly means to the true prize. Avery knew his potential, and he knew once he finished school he could have a fulfilling career as a mechanical engineer. That was the American dream wasn’t it?
Thoughts of the future clouded Avery’s mind as he worked. For some reason, he simply could not help the feeling today as though he was meant for something more. Something greater than the menial job he now held. Something greater even than the career after which he sought. What that purpose may be, he could not fathom. It was just one of those days he supposed.
After his day in the office, Avery walked to the small park just a couple blocks away. He’d discovered it once while dating a girl who lived in that direction. At the time, he had needed to catch another bus to get to her house, and the park lay just down the street from the bus stop. Of course, she’d dumped him as soon as she’d discovered he had no car. Despite being crushed by the shallowness of her nature, he could not for the life of himself remember her name.
As Avery walked slowly around the path which circled the park, he watched the children play. Avery had always been fond of children, in small doses. It was a private joke he had that it would only ever be his own child he would truly love. Or like for that matter. He watched a few children playing hopscotch, while others ran around the playground. While this was not a large park, Avery liked how peaceful it was.
Large trees ringed the park, giving it an almost magical quality, as no parking lot could be seen from within. The playground had been shaped to look like natural things, and while they were obviously artificial, it was nice that some civil architect had taken the time and effort to make the park flow.
Stopping to take in the sights, Avery noticed something strange. There was someone running. Not running as a jogger would run, but rather as someone would run were they terrified of something behind them. Avery quickly looked away, opting for ignorance rather than action. It was always best to let people resolve their own situations rather than getting involved. It was Avery’s steadfast policy to never give advice for anything. All the advice he’d ever received was bad anyway.
As Avery tuned out the running person, he turned back to the children playing in the park. He watched them for a moment, until he noticed the running figure was running straight toward him. He noticed now it was a girl. A stunningly attractive one at that. Dark auburn hair with an olive skin, she had a lithe graceful body which held Avery’s gaze far longer than was seemly. It was not until after the elevator eyes that Avery noticed he was correct about the girl’s demeanor. Tears streaming down her cheeks, eyes wide with fright, she was obviously terrified.
Of what, Avery could only guess. There did not seem to be anything following her. For all appearances, it appeared she was running from the shadows of dusk which followed closely on her steps. What a silly thing, he thought, to be running from dusk. He turned his attention away from her and her terror back to the children playing. Nobody else seemed to notice her, why should he? As he watched a young girl swinging from monkey bars, the corner of his eye held the girl running toward him. In spite of himself, Avery quickly looked her way again.
This time, her eyes caught his. Help me, she mouthed to him as he tried to look away. Please, help me.
Shocked, he tore his gaze away and looked around; as if to find the phantom to which she was speaking. Seeing only oblivious natures around himself, Avery looked back to the captivating gaze of the girl, and gestured lamely to himself in question.
Nodding, she closed the now short gap to Avery and flung herself into his arms. His surprise not abated from her words and actions, Avery suddenly grew suspicious. Nobody nowadays ran terrified to a complete stranger and grasped them as though their life depended upon never letting go. What was her game?
Thoughts of thieves and murders ran through his mind as he tried to shove her away. “Get off it!” he cried.
“No!” she replied fiercely looking once more into his eyes. “Do not let him in! Look into my eyes!”
Her gaze drew him in. Some foreign part of Avery wanted nothing more than to push her away and call the authorities. Yet as he could not look away from the beautiful sight of her eyes, the feelings of aggression and disgust began to fade.
“That’s it . . .” she whispered. “Just don’t look away and he cannot hold you. I need your help, and whether or not you like it I can see you’re the chosen one . . .”
Her words seemed to trail off as Avery’s soul seemed to be captured. Though he knew she was talking, he could not hear the words. The promise held within her hypnotizing eyes was too great. His fears, his inhibitions, his cares, all slipped away as the irises of her amber eyes contracted and shifted with her changing pupils. Such beautiful eyes should not exist. And such a strange color too. And yet, while he was swimming within those eyes, nothing else mattered.
Like a piece of glass shattering within his mind, she blinked.
Suddenly conscious of his surroundings once more, he noticed that it had become fully dark and a light rain began to mist over the park. The two of them had at some point moved to the park bench and were holding hands as lovers were wont to do.
“What just happened?” he asked.
“I ran to you,” she replied, “he tried to take your mind, to force me away, but I convinced you otherwise. Then, through your connection, I was protected.”
“Wait . . . Who tried to take my mind? The thing you were running from?”
She smiled a thin lipped smile which shared more with a grimace than an expression of joy. “Thing is perhaps the most appropriate description of him.”
Utterly confused, Avery shook his head. “What is going on?” he asked as he took his hands from hers.
Instantly she shivered and rubbed her hands along her arms to warm herself. It was then he noticed her attire. She had a short, dark gray plaid skirt and a tight, sleeveless black top. The shirt clung tightly to her lithe figure with a neck akin to that of a turtleneck. Over her chest there was a hole sewn into the shirt, much like a keyhole. Beneath the shirt she wore a necklace with a silver pendant of a dragon holding a ruby. Of course, it was due to the keyhole in the shirt that he could see the pendant at all. She wore no tights, and simple short black wedge heels. While her outfit was nice, even somewhat businesslike, it was obvious by the way she wore it that she had never worked in an office a day in her life. Or, if she had, she disguised it better than anyone Avery had ever met.
Suddenly overcome with chivalry (something he’d never quite managed to master), Avery offered his wool coat to the girl. She smiled slightly and wrapped it around her shoulders. Smiling in return, he said simply, “I’m Avery.”
“Thank you,” she replied.
He looked questioningly at her.
“I mean . . . thank you for offering your name. It means a lot where I come from. I’m Samantha.”
Smiling once more he replied, “Well then, thank you Samantha.”
She laughed a silvery laugh that seemed to tickle the depths of Avery’s soul, and he couldn’t help but smile himself. After a short pause, he asked, “So . . . are you going to finish telling me what happened here?”
“You mean you don’t remember?” she stated quizzically.
“No,” he responded shaking his head with a slight frown. “Should I?”
She glanced to the surroundings as the lights in the park began to flicker to life. “Perhaps not here,” she said as she stood. “Your home is nearby. Let’s go there?”
“Excuse me? First, why do you assume that my house is nearby? And second, why would I take you there?”
“As to the first, I know a great many things, and while your home may not be within walking distance, it’s certainly within a short car ride. As for the second, well, are you in the habit of turning down attractive girls who ask to go to your house?”
Surprised by the question, he realized that no girl had ever asked to go to his house before. He had always offered (and had oft been rejected). He shrugged slightly as he asked, “Where’s your car then?”
“Oh! That’s right. You don’t have one yet!” she responded, laughing once more. “I guess we’re taking the bus.”
Too confused at this point to argue, Avery pointed to the nearest bus stop.
“But you need to promise me that you’ll explain everything once we get to my house.”
Smiling broadly once more, she nodded. “I promise.”

Flipping the switch along the wall, the conference room darkened the lights of the outside world as electrons ran through the glass, turning it opaque. Monsieur Sable loved technology. In all the years he’d lived he had never imagined the world could become so . . . alive. Even as the somber mood of this gathering weighed heavily upon his mind he could not help but smile at the miracles of modern life.
Sable was a tall man in his human form. His hair was a chestnut brown, with the beginnings of gray showing at the temples. His frame was thin, and he was immaculately dressed. He wore a black, pin-striped three piece suit with a black silk tie. His alligator skin boots and belt matched, and his belt buckle matched the design of the cufflinks in his starkly white shirt. Even from a distance it was obvious from his stance he was a leader.
Turning to back to the room, Sable looked at the empty chair where Redding once sat. The conference room was on the sixty-seventh floor of the building, and was quite large, with eleven foot ceilings, and perhaps thirty feet by twenty feet. A large flat conference television hung from one wall, while the opposite held a fully stocked bar. The windows, an entire wall of them, faced north-west, to allow little interference from sunlight for the majority of the year. At night, they offered a beautiful view of the city of London.
Sighing heavily, he seated himself at the head of the conference table. His mood darkened as he waited for the others to arrive. Though he knew it was inevitable, he hated that the prophecy had been enacted. It had been nearly ten years since the seven Lords had killed the man who was coming to kill them. He thought they had escaped. As it had become undeniably apparent though, he was wrong.
Hearing the faint sound of the elevator opening, Sable tuned his ears to the sound of footsteps along the deeply carpeted sixty-seventh floor of the building. There were two. Two distinct sets of feet. That would be the twins, Gules and Azure. Now the youngest of the remaining Lords, they were also the most impetuous. Upon learning of the death of their younger brother, Sable was certain they would want to immediately rush to find the Shadow. Of all the Lords, it would be most important to keep them in check.
Turning to face the now opaque window he closed his eyes as the twins entered and took their seats. He could feel their questioning air about them as they looked toward him for some indication of why they were called. When they had heard the call, the two of them had been running scams out of Vegas, amassing even more wealth than they already had. It made little sense to Sable, but then again, this was further evidence of their impetuousness.
Azure and Gules were opposites in nearly every way, Gules always dressed in a fine, custom made navy blue suit, and Azure dressed constantly in beach garb. It was obvious to any, even in their human form, they were twins. Azure had his blonde hair cut short, and was of a medium build. He had a strong jaw, and a stronger chin. Gules was currently dressed in boy shorts, and a bikini top. She wore her hair long, and it always seemed to be tangled. Sable knew this to be only for show, as he’d seen her on many occasions dressed in evening wear. A creature born entirely of comfort, she loved dressing down. Despite their obvious differences, Sable knew there existed a harmony of power within. Yin and Yang in every respect, together they could bring destruction which would rival even that Sable himself could create.
Taking Sable’s lack of response to be comfort, the twins pulled out a deck of cards and began playing. As the second hand was drawn, Sable heard the elevator open once more. The heavy footsteps of Argent ensued. Argent was the only being Sable knew who could cause audible footsteps on a floor covered in several inches of carpet. Then again, not many beings were six foot seven and weighed a good three twenty-five. Representing very obviously raw power, he was dressed in an entirely white suit, with a black shirt and a sage green tie. His hulking form dwarfed the conference chair in which he sat, as his very presence seemed to make the walls shudder. He wore his slightly curly black hair long, tied into a ponytail. Sable had never approved of this hairstyle, which was likely why Argent chose it.
Argent was the only other Lord who knew the reason for the gathering. Just exactly how Argent knew of Redding’s death, Sable was not sure. Shortly after Sable had learned of Redding’s death, Argent had contacted him and inquired when the gathering would be called. Sable informed Argent he needed to find the oracle to send to the pawn, and then the gathering would be called.
And now, here they were. It had been no simple task to find the oracle. They were rare enough, and to find one who had lived past the awakening was rarer indeed. Sable had searched through a dozen cities before he finally found her. Living in a slum, taking drugs to forget the uncontrolled visions, she was a mess. It had taken nearly three months to break her of her drug habits and instill the loyalty needed to work for him. There was no choice though, and what was a couple of months when compared to an eternity of death?
Hearing the elevator chime once more, Sable heard two more sets of footsteps in the hallway leading toward the expansive conference room. Lira and Dante apparently met on the way to the building. Though somewhat surprised they chose to arrive together, Sable was glad he could get started. There were things that needed done, and there was little time.
Wearing a ruby red dress, Lira used her human form to her fullest potential. The dress was tied around her neck, and cut deeply in the back. Along the right side there was a slit to her mid-thigh. Sable was not typically attracted to human females, but Lira definitely knew how to drive any suitor wild. And drive them she did. Right into the grave. She had amassed a ridiculous fortune through life insurance policies and inheritance. Sable supposed it was easy when one was the very essence of sex appeal. Her human form had chocolate skin, a medium height, and large, pouty lips. Her beautiful hair hung to mid-shoulder, and her mischievous eyes were of the type to make men do anything for a glance. They existed in a perpetual state of a smoldering gaze.
Dante was dressed in simple slacks and a white dress shirt without a tie. Despite his relaxed nature Sable could see his shrewd eyes scanning the entire room. Instantly upon entry Sable was sure Dante had guessed the reason for the gathering. Charismatic in every manner, Dante was also the most cold and calculating Dragon in existence. His intelligence was unsurpassed, and his insight into matters made him an invaluable asset in every circumstance. The thinnest person in the room, his hollow cheeks held little color, and his eyes rarely opened fully. Despite being what could almost be considered emaciated, Dante held a raw confidence extruded form the knowledge that he could outsmart almost any living entity. If Dante wanted you dead, you had no chance. It was only a matter of time.
As the last of the Lords sat, Sable turned back to the conference table and the five figures before him. Looking gravely at each of them, he gestured to Redding’s seat.
“The prophecy has been enacted,” Sable stated simply. “Redding has been killed by the Shadow.”
Murmurs broke out between the twins, as Lira hissed with a sharp intake of breath. Dante nodded, his suspicions confirmed.
“While it’s a sad day for all of us, it’s also a day in which we must not forget ourselves,” Sable continued. “Immortality is not a given, and we must now fight for our survival once more.”
“But, what happened?” Azure asked in her light voice.
“From what I gather,” Sable replied, “He was working in New York, when the Shadow found him. He was captured and murdered. Skinned alive, his soul taken.”
Horrified looks passed around the table. Taking a soul was not something many beings could do. Even if the Shadow had arisen at full strength, he would have needed instruction on the process of extracting a soul. This was the most distressing part of the news. This meant that the Shadow had someone helping him, and it meant that someone knew how to steal a dragon’s power. Through the centuries, the Lords had hunted down and killed every being they could find with the knowledge which might someday lead to their demise. It was they who started the witch hunts. It was they who overthrew governments, and started revolutions, all in the goal of control. Controlling the knowledge of their very existence, they had pulled the strings of the world for ages.
“So who is it?” Argent asked in his deep voice.
Sable considered for a moment before answering. “Almost ten years ago, we performed a sacrifice of an individual. This was not a particularly smart or powerful individual, simply a man who had dabbled a little too closely in things which should have been left alone. You may remember him; he was a librarian. His research took him further into the true nature of the world than most humans ever dream. While this in and of itself was not much of a problem, he began to spread his knowledge.
“As you all know, this world exists in a delicate balance between what the humans consider supernatural and what they perceive on a day to day basis. Our very existence depends on the secrecy of the ones who cross into our world. Through his actions, he began spreading not only the word of existence of the magic in the world, but also proof thereof. It was at that point we stepped in and took the matters into our own hands.
“Now, it appears that his knowledge was greater than we thought, because he has risen from the shadow realm to become something entirely different. It’s not known whether or not he has help, but I assume from the manner in which Redding’s life was ended that he does.”
“Is it not possible,” Dante asked, “That he could have learned this knowledge in his previous life?”
“That is indeed a distinct possibility. If that is the case, it makes our lives a great deal easier.”
“What about the one the prophecy calls out as the one who shall defeat the Shadow?” Lira asked.
“I’ve already found him. I’ve also recruited the oracle who will act as his guide. It took some doing, but she’s now onboard and should have contacted him by now.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” Gules said.
“It’s not over yet. It’s just beginning. Very soon, one of us will need to meet our pawn. He’s not going to be happy, but he’s going to be dragged into our world and we need to sink our hooks into his soul. We all know that it’s possible he could destroy us, but it’s the only chance we have at surviving the Shadow.”
“I’ll go,” Lira said, smiling evilly. “I’d like to meet this pawn . . .”
“No,” Sable replied. “I know your lustful nature, but he must become attached to the oracle. If he does not, all will be lost.”
Pouting, she replied, “You’re no fun Sable. I just wanted to meet him and play with him a little.”
Ignoring this, Sable looked around the room for another volunteer.
“I’ll go,” Gules stated.
“Very well. I imagine he’ll be ready within a month.”
Nodding, Gules responded, “Has he met the oracle yet?”
“Yes. They should be in the process of getting to know one another right now.”

Though the bus ride to his house was the same amount of time as usual, it seemed to Avery to take far less time. Samantha was a fascinating person. Her views on the world were extremely unique, and the more he spoke with her, the more he wanted to hear. While Avery tried to talk to her about the most basic of things, she turned the conversation away from talk of current events and politics, economics and society. Instead she spoke of the city, her experiences, and what she was doing with her life. Apparently she was an artist, living in a loft downtown which doubled as her studio. Cliché though it seemed, he could easily imagine her making art in such a place.
As they walked across the lawn to Avery’s apartment, he looked up at the four floor building. It was an older building, built sometime over sixty years ago. Avery loved it. It looked almost as though it was leaning on itself to remain standing, but it had character. As they rounded the last of the outdoor stairs to the top floor of the building, Avery pulled out his keys. The entrance led directly to the living room of Avery’s apartment, where sat a sage green couch and a dark cherry wood coffee table. Visible from the entrance you could see the kitchen and the hallway leading to the bedrooms. It was a two bedroom apartment, with the spare being used as Avery’s office on the days when he could get away with working from home.
Upon arrival at Avery’s apartment, Samantha immediately made herself right at home. This suited Avery perfectly, as he was ill-equipped to play the host. Sprawling on his couch, she looked at him and smiled a mischievous smile. Unable to help himself, Avery smiled back. There was just something about her which caused him to lose himself. He felt completely at ease, entirely comfortable around her. It was an odd feeling. He’d never felt that way about anyone before, ever.
“So,” she said, “now that we’re here, why don’t I tell you what happened in the park?”
Taken completely off guard, Avery simply nodded and shrugged as he moved to his fridge and began mixing himself a drink.
“Well, first I have a few questions for you. I fear I already know the answers, but I’ll ask them anyway. I suppose the most pertinent question is, do you believe in magic?”
Unable to contain his laughter, Avery responded, “No, I don’t think I do.”
Unfazed, she next asked, “Do you believe in fate?”
Considering for a moment, Avery carefully replied, “I believe that each person makes their own destiny, but that fate exists in the form of a beginning and an end to everything.”
“Well, that’s a start. Do you believe your senses?”
“What do you mean?” he asked, confused.
“I mean, do you believe the things that you can see, feel, taste, smell and touch?”
“Well, considering that pretty much sums up the entire existence of being human, I suppose I do.”
“Ok, come here then. I need to show you something.”
Shrugging once more, Avery walked to the couch and sat, setting his drink on a side table.
Fidgeting for a moment, Samantha pulled a deck of tarot cards from apparently nowhere. Avery could only guess where she might have been hiding those.
“Are you familiar with the term ‘Suspending your disbelief’?” she asked.
Avery nodded.
“Good. I want you to suspend your disbelief for a moment and simply accept what you see.”
As she spoke Avery looked at the tarot cards in her hands. Somehow, her words became lost as his attention shifted entirely to what her hands were doing. Holding the cards between them, she proffered the deck to Avery. He shuffled it and returned it to her open hands. Covering the deck with her left hand, she looked at Avery once more. As he looked back at her questioningly, she winked and looked down at her cards once more.
Suddenly, she flung her left hand up. The deck of cards, as if attached upon an invisible string, followed suit. Gasping, Avery realized that the cards were now suspended between her hands, apparently in mid-air. Upon closer inspection, for all Avery could tell the cards were floating.
“How . . .”
“Shhh . . .” Samantha said before a coherent sentence could form within Avery’s mind.
The cards floated between her hands as though weightless. There seemed to be no direction to them as they slowly twisted and turned back and forth. As Samantha twitched her fingers the cards began to move more rapidly, bumping into one another and rearranging themselves until Avery realized they had formed a complete spread before him. Avery hesitantly reached out to take a card, looking questioningly at Samantha. She nodded slightly, and Avery drew a card from the deck. A slight tingling filled his arm as his hand entered the aura surrounding the cards.
As the card moved out of the aura, the remainder of the deck seemed to suddenly gain weight and fall. Faster than he would have thought possible, Samantha snatched the entire deck from the air and placed it upon the coffee table. Avery knew little about tarot. He did however know the card he had drawn.
The fool.
Upon seeing the card, Samantha giggled and clapped her hands. Looking up, Avery frowned. “Laughing that I’m the fool?”
Samantha giggled again and shook her head.
“Then what are you laughing at?”
“Oh, it’s just so appropriate.”
“Why? Because you’ve fooled me with a magic trick? Because for a moment I allowed myself to believe that there was something more than this mundane world? You almost had me convinced, but now I know it was all one big joke at my expense. And to think I let you in my home.”
Samantha’s eyes grew wide as Avery continued.
“You show up, out of nowhere, and fall into my arms. You bewitch me with god knows what story, and I take you to my home where you finally show me for what I am. The fool. Very fucking funny. You’re absolutely right. I was a fool to even notice you. I should have followed my first instinct and ignored you completely.”
“No . . .” she whispered.
“What do you mean no?” Avery’s voice had risen from bitterness to heat. What was he thinking? This woman whom he had met only hours before was now in his home. She could be a thief! She could be a murderer! Her entire purpose could be subterfuge!
“No, you have it wrong,” she whispered.
“Get out!” Avery cried walking to the door and opening it. “Get the fuck out of my house!”
Tears suddenly streaming down her face, Samantha stood.
“You are the fool,” she said as she walked to the door. “In more ways than just that represented through the card.”
“Get out,” he replied, the bitterness returning to his voice.
Walking through the door she turned to face him. “The Fool represents new beginnings. It represents the journey you are about to undertake. I had thought to show you something wonderful, but you’re apparently not ready. I only wish –”
Her words were suddenly cut short as a dark figure darted across the landing and grabbed her around her waist. Lifting her easily, the shape looked like a large man, but was completely black. He somehow appeared to be made entirely of shadow. Burning red eyes looked in Avery’s direction. As they stared momentarily at him, he cried out in pain. It felt as though every inch of his skin were suddenly on fire.
“Help me!” Samantha cried. Avery looked at her, their eyes locking. Her violet eyes seemed to burn through the fog which had slowly crept around his mind. Suddenly lucid, he realized they were both in danger. He did not know how he knew this; he only knew some part of him reacted instinctively to seeing Samantha in danger. Time seemed to slow as Avery took in every minute detail of the situation. Looking at the shadow holding Samantha, he realized that he could see straight through as though it were made from smoke.
Acting before any conscious thought congealed, Avery reached for the closest thing he had. The umbrella standing next to Avery’s door seemed to leap into his hand as his other hand reached to grasp Samantha’s arm. Swinging wildly, the umbrella passed through the shadow as Avery thought it might. Not knowing what else to do, he pulled Samantha with all his might as he pushed the button to release the umbrella. As it unfolded, it seemed to dislodge some of the shadow substance. Suddenly, the force holding Samantha slackened, and she fell into his arms.
The two of them stumbled through the door into the apartment and Avery shut the door.
Gasping, Samantha asked, “Are there any open windows?”
A horrified look passed between them as they looked to the darkened hallway leading to Avery’s bedroom. As they watched, red spots began to appear within the darkness. One, two, three sets appeared and began to grow larger.
“Quickly!” Samantha cried. “We must leave! It is no longer safe here.”
Opening the front door once more, Avery looked back and forth for the shadow which had attacked them from the front. Seeing nothing, he grasped Samantha’s hand and pulled her out the door into the night. Snarling came from behind as they ran down three flights of stairs to the ground. Risking a glance behind, Avery saw the shadows now following them had taken the form of beasts. Adrenalin pumping through his veins, he ran as quickly as he could away from the apartment building.
As Avery’s heart pounded within his chest, he heard a sudden roaring sound behind him. Sounding distinctly different from the beasts chasing them, he glanced back. A pillar of flame had erupted from his apartment roof and was burning into the night. As he watched the flame spread with unnatural speed to engulf the entire roof of the building. Sprinklers began to spray as alarms chimed at the sudden onrush of heat and smoke. Not seeing the beasts which had chased them out of the building following any more, Avery slowed and stopped to watch all his earthly possessions burn to ashes. Only vaguely aware that Samantha had disengaged from his hand, he stared at the flames pouring from the building.
As a small crowd gathered to watch the flames, emergency vehicles began to arrive. Avery suddenly remembered the woman he had tried so desperately to save, and looked around frantically. Spotting her among the parked cars of the parking lot, he saw her motioning for him to come. Looking to see if anyone was paying attention to him or the girl, he walked toward her.
She gestured to the silver Mazda by which she stood, and said, “Get in.”
Not knowing what else to do, Avery complied and slid into the passenger seat. Sliding into the driver seat, Samantha turned on the headlights and placed the car into reverse. Looking around, Avery realized the car was running. Sticking from the ignition Avery saw a black folding knife. Following his gaze, Samantha blushed.
“I didn’t have time to make it pretty.”
Avery shook his head, this one little thing not really concerning him when compared to the rest of the events of the night. Choosing to simply follow the flow, rather than question things, he leaned his head back in his seat and asked, “Where are we going?”
As they rounded a corner onto a main thoroughfare Samantha looked at him briefly, as if to judge his potential reaction. “We’re going to see one of the people who sent me to find you.”
“Oh. Okay then. That’s fine.”
As they stopped at a red light, she looked at him suspiciously, as though suspecting he was playing a joke.
“No really,” he said, “that’s fine. I’m through with this. I figure there will be plenty of time once we stop to sort things out and find a rational explanation.”
She grimaced, but nodded nonetheless.
“So,” Avery continued, “tell me the truth. How did you come into my life and what happened back there and what’s going to happen now?”
Her green eyes regarded him as they passed beneath the streetlights. She sighed, saying, “It’s a long drive Ave, Why don’t you get some sleep?”
“Okay,” he replied as they passed another light, “but you must first answer two questions.”
“Which are?” she replied as she turned the car onto the freeway.
“First, where are we going?”
“Las Vegas.”
Beyond surprise at this point, Avery simply shook his head. She was right that it was a long drive. Las Vegas was nearly six hours away. While Avery was interested in exactly what they were going to do in Vegas, he was far more interested in his second question.
“Why is it that I can distinctly remember your eyes being three separate colors?”
Samantha barked out a bitter laugh. “That question requires much more of an explanation. You’ll learn more soon, but here are the basics.
“As you may have noticed, the world isn’t quite what it seems. Shadows chasing people, flames erupting into the quiet night, floating cards . . . they’re all part of the world which exists beneath the surface. I am part of that world.”
“So do all people who come from wherever you’re from have Technicolor eyes?”
Expecting a laugh at his joke, Avery was surprised that she paused for a moment before continuing solemnly, “No. My eyes are a mark of my nature. They change with my mood. Some say they exist as a mark the wizards placed on my kind when we were created. Others say it’s simply a side effect of our magical nature. All I know for sure is that the majority of my magic resides in my eyes.”
“So what are you?”
“I’m an oracle. My gift and curse is to see the future. In addition, I see the true nature of things.”
Avery looked at Samantha as she became lost in thought. It was obvious this was a touchy subject. Slightly guilty for bringing it up, but insanely curious nonetheless, Avery resolved to allow her to answer in her own time. Taking her advice, he leaned the seat back and closed his eyes, letting the car rock him to sleep.
***

Nanowrimo day 3. 6811 words

2010-11-03T22:01:00.000-06:00

It's coming along nicely. I'm already 21 pages in. That's more than I've ever written a single story before. For those of you following along, here's the next installment. It finishes off what's meant to be the first chapter, so from now on I'm only going to share excerpts of the novel. Probably the best written paragraphs of the day.

Flipping the switch along the wall, the conference room darkened the lights of the outside world as electrons ran through the glass, turning it opaque. Monsieur Sable loved technology. In all the years he’d lived he had never imagined the world could become so . . . alive. Even as the somber mood of this gathering weighed heavily upon his mind he could not help but smile at the miracles of modern life.
Turning to back to the room, Sable looked at the empty chair where Redding once sat. Sighing heavily, he seated himself at the head of the conference table. His mood darkened as he waited for the others to arrive. Though he knew it was inevitable, he hated that the prophecy had been enacted. It had been nearly ten years since the seven Lords had killed the man who was coming to kill them. He thought they had escaped. As it had become undeniably apparent though, he was wrong.
Hearing the faint sound of the elevator opening, Sable tuned his ears to the sound of footsteps along the deeply carpeted sixty-seventh floor of the building. There were two. Two distinct sets of feet. That would be the twins, Gules and Azure. Now the youngest of the remaining Lords, they were also the most impetuous. Upon learning of the death of their younger brother, Sable was certain they would want to immediately rush to find the Shadow. Of all the Lords, it would be most important to keep them in check.
Turning to face the now opaque window he closed his eyes as the twins entered and took their seats. He could feel their questioning air about them as they looked toward him for some indication of why they were called. When they had heard the call, the two of them had been running scams out of Vegas, amassing even more wealth than they already had. It made little sense to Sable, but then again, was evidence of their impetuousness. Azure and Gules, opposites in nearly every way, Gules dressed in a fine, custom made suit, and Azure dressed in what appeared to be a bikini. Despite their obvious differences, he knew there existed a harmony of power within. While each powerful in their own right, together they could bring destruction which would rival even that Sable himself could create.
Taking Sable’s lack of response to be comfort, the twins pulled out a deck of cards and began playing. As the second hand was drawn, Sable heard the elevator open once more. The heavy footsteps of Argent ensued. Argent was the only being Sable knew who could cause audible footsteps on a floor covered in several inches of carpet. Then again, not many beings were six foot seven and weighed a good three twenty-five. Representing very obviously raw power, he was dressed entirely in white, with a black shirt and a sage green tie. His hulking form dwarfed the conference chair in which he sat, and his very presence seemed to make the walls shudder.
Argent was the only other Lord who knew the reason for the gathering. Just exactly how Argent knew of Redding’s death, Sable was not sure. Shortly after Sable had learned of Redding’s death, Argent had contacted him and inquired when the gathering would be called. Sable informed Argent he needed to find the oracle to send to the pawn, and then the gathering would be called.
And now, here they were. It had been no simple task to find the oracle. They were rare enough, and to find one who had lived past the awakening was rarer indeed. Sable had searched through a dozen cities before he finally found her. Living in a slum, taking drugs to forget the uncontrolled visions, she was a mess. It had taken nearly three months to break her of her drug habits and instill the loyalty needed to work for him. There was no choice though, and what was a couple of months when compared to an eternity of death?
Hearing the elevator chime once more, Sable heard two more sets of footsteps in the hallway leading toward the expansive conference room. Lira and Dante apparently met on the way to the building. Though somewhat surprised they chose to arrive together, Sable was glad he could get started. There were things that needed done, and there was little time.
Wearing a ruby red dress, Lira used her human form to her fullest potential. Sable was not typically attracted to human females, but Lira definitely knew how to drive any suitor wild. And drive them she did. Right into the grave. She had amassed a ridiculous fortune through life insurance policies and inheritance. Sable supposed it was easy when one was the very essence of sex appeal.
Dante was dressed in simple slacks and a white dress shirt without a tie. Despite his relaxed nature Sable could see his shrewd eyes scanning the entire room. Instantly upon entry Sable was sure he had guessed the reason for the gathering. Charismatic in every manner, Dante was also the most cold and calculating Dragon in existence. His intelligence was unsurpassed, and his insight into matters mad him an invaluable asset in every circumstance.
As the last of the Lords sat, Sable turned back to the conference table and the five figures before him. Looking gravely at each of them, he gestured to Redding’s seat.
“The prophecy has been enacted,” Sable stated simply. “Redding has been killed by the Shadow.”
Murmurs broke out between the twins, as Lira hissed with a sharp intake of breath. Dante nodded, his suspicions confirmed.
“While it’s a sad day for all of us, it’s also a day in which we must not forget ourselves,” Sable continued. “Immortality is not a given, and we must now fight for our survival once more.”
“But, what happened?” Azure asked in her light voice.
“From what I gather,” Sable replied, “He was working in New York, when the Shadow found him. He was captured and murdered. Skinned alive, his soul taken.”
Horrified looks passed around the table. Taking a soul was not something many beings could do. Even if the Shadow had arisen at full strength, he would have needed instruction on the process of extracting a soul. This was the most distressing part of the news. This meant that the Shadow had someone helping him, and it meant that someone knew how to steal a dragon’s power. Through the centuries, the Lords had hunted down and killed every being they could find with the knowledge which might someday lead to their demise. It was they who started the witch hunts. It was they who overthrew governments, and started revolutions, all in the goal of control. Controlling the knowledge of their very existence, they had pulled the strings of the world for ages.
“So who is it?” Argent asked in his deep voice.
Sable considered for a moment before answering. “Almost ten years ago, we performed a sacrifice of an individual. This was not a particularly smart or powerful individual, simply a man who had dabbled a little too closely in things which should have been left alone. You may remember him; he was a librarian. His research took him further into the true nature of the world than most humans ever dream. While this in and of itself was not much of a problem, he began to spread his knowledge.
“As you all know, this world exists in a delicate balance between what the humans consider supernatural and what they perceive on a day to day basis. Our very existence depends on the secrecy of the ones who cross into our world. Through his actions, he began spreading not only the word of existence of the magic in the world, but also proof thereof. It was at that point we stepped in and took the matters into our own hands.
“Now, it appears that his knowledge was greater than we thought, because he has risen from the shadow realm to become something entirely different. It’s not known whether or not he has help, but I assume from the manner in which Redding’s life was ended that he does.”
“Is it not possible,” Dante asked, “That he could have learned this knowledge in his previous life?”
“That is indeed a distinct possibility. If that is the case, it makes our lives a great deal easier.”
“What about the one the prophecy calls out as the one who shall defeat the Shadow?” Lira asked.
“I’ve already found him. I’ve also recruited the oracle who will act as his guide. It took some doing, but she’s now onboard and should have contacted him by now.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” Gules said.
“It’s not over yet. It’s just beginning. Very soon, one of us will need to meet our pawn. He’s not going to be happy, but he’s going to be dragged into our world and we need to sink our hooks into his soul. We all know that it’s possible he could destroy us, but it’s the only chance we have at surviving the Shadow.”
“I’ll go,” Lira said, smiling evilly. “I’d like to meet this pawn . . .”
“No,” Sable replied. “I know your lustful nature, but he must become attached to the oracle. If he does not, all will be lost.”
Pouting, she replied, “You’re no fun Sable. I just wanted to meet him and play with him a little.”
Ignoring this, Sable looked around the room for another volunteer.
“I’ll go,” Gules stated.
“Very well. I imagine he’ll be ready within a month.”
Nodding, Gules responded, “Has he met the oracle yet?”
“Yes. They should be in the process of getting to know one another right now.”

Nanowrimo, Day 2 - 3409 words

2010-11-02T10:21:00.000-06:00

So I realized that if I'm ever planning on publishing this book, it might not be the best idea to put it all on the eternal interwebs. That being said, I'm going to share the first chapter of the book for sure, and then I suppose I'll just share excerpts. If you want the full story you'll just need to buy the book ;)

The alarm buzzed once more, the nine minutes of Avery’s third snooze already over. He groggily reached to the alarm clock sitting on his side table to check the time.
“Shit!” he exclaimed, adrenalin suddenly pumping through his veins. He was running late. He must have hit the snooze button four times, not three. While twenty-seven minutes of sleeping in left Avery with enough time to get ready and get to work, thirty-six minutes did not. Avery wondered who had come up with nine minutes for the snooze button. Didn’t it logically make sense to use ten? While it made sense to Avery, every alarm clock he had ever owned snoozed for only nine minutes.
Jumping out of the shower and quickly drying off, Avery selected some clothes from the clean pile on his floor. He’d still not gotten around to putting them away, and knowing himself as he did, he likely wouldn’t ever get around to it. The clean clothes would be worn, discarded to the floor and kicked into a semi-clean pile. After his clean clothes had been exhausted he would move to the semi-clean pile, which would cause a dirty pile to be created. He’d go for as long as he could without bothering to lug his clothes to the laundromat. Such was the life of the bachelor.
Simply snatching a tie from the floor and not bothering to adorn it, Avery ran out the door. Running as quickly as he could across the parking lot of his apartment complex, he saw the bright lights of the bus bearing down on the stop on his street.
Racing with all the speed he could muster, Avery sprinted across the lawn. Fortunately, the driver of the bus saw Avery racing to the stop and slowed his approach. Stopping in front of the sign marking the bus stop, the bus driver grinned broadly as he opened the door.
“Running a little late are we Avery?” he asked as an out of breath Avery stumbled up the steps and into a seat.
“Shut your face Jim,” Avery replied between gasps. “I woke up late.”
“You need a good woman to wake you up in the morning.”
“And you need to stop sounding like my mother.”
Jim grinned again, his crooked teeth flashing as he closed the door. Avery and Jim had become acquaintances when Avery had started the early shift at work. Avery knew very little about Jim, other than he had a son slightly older than Avery and the two of them didn’t speak. From what he could gather, Jim’s son blamed him for the death of his mother. Avery knew that the death of his wife had hit Jim extremely hard. Deaths due to cancer brought some families closer together. Others, it left ugly scars that would never heal.
The ride to work passed uneventfully, as it always did. Avery worked for a large corporation testing systems the company used to process information from one aspect of the business to another. He hated the job, with all the redundancies associated, but it paid better than any other job one could obtain without a degree.
This is not to say that he was not working on his degree, it was simply taking far longer than Avery ever would have expected. Unfortunately, he could not go to school full time and maintain his position at work. His love of engineering was leading him to a four year degree that, at the rate he was going, would take ten. A stubborn refusal to take out student loans though necessitated that he work while going to school.
As the bus slid to a halt in front of the building where he worked, Avery rose from his seat making the final tugs to his tie. Waving a goodbye to Jim, he exited the bus and meandered to the entrance of the job he loathed. The four story building looked squat and ugly aside the neo-skyscrapers standing to either side. It could have been a parking structure for all the beauty the building held. Perhaps it once was? It wouldn’t surprise Avery in the slightest if he discovered the company had purchased a parking lot to be converted into the technical operations center of North America.
Sighing as he pulled his badge from his belt, Avery walked to the secured door and swiped his security badge. The magnet securing it released as Avery tugged slightly on the door. A means to an end, he thought, this door was simply the ugly means to the true prize. Avery knew his potential, and he knew once he finished school he could have a fulfilling career as a mechanical engineer. That was the American dream wasn’t it?
Thoughts of the future clouded Avery’s mind as he worked. For some reason, he simply could not help the feeling today as though he was meant for something more. Something greater than the menial job he now held. Something greater even than the career after which he sought. What that purpose may be, he could not fathom. It was just one of those days he supposed.
After his day in the office, Avery walked to the small park just a couple blocks away. He’d discovered it once while dating a girl who lived in that direction. At the time, he had needed to catch another bus to get to her house, and the park lay just down the street from the bus stop. Of course, she’d dumped him as soon as she’d discovered he had no car. Despite being crushed by the shallowness of her nature, he could not for the life of himself remember her name.
As Avery walked slowly around the path which circled the park, he watched the children play. Avery had always been fond of children, in small doses. It was a private joke he had that it would only ever be his own child he would truly love. Or like for that matter. Stopping to take in the sights, Avery noticed something strange. There was someone running. Not running as a jogger would run, but rather as someone would run were they terrified of something behind them. Avery quickly looked away, opting for ignorance rather than action. It was always best to let people resolve their own situations rather than getting involved. It was Avery’s steadfast policy to never give advice for anything. All the advice he’d ever received was bad anyway.
As Avery tuned out the running person, he turned back to the children playing in the park. He watched them for a moment, until he noticed the running figure was running straight toward him. He noticed now it was a girl. A stunningly attractive one at that. Dark auburn hair with an olive skin, she had a lithe graceful body which held Avery’s gaze far longer than was seemly. It was not until after the elevator eyes that Avery noticed he was correct about the girl’s demeanor. Tears streaming down her cheeks, eyes wide with fright, she was obviously terrified.
Of what, Avery could only guess. There did not seem to be anything following her. For all appearances, it appeared she was running from the shadows of dusk which followed closely on her steps. What a silly thing, he thought, to be running from dusk. He turned his attention away from her and her terror back to the children playing. Nobody else seemed to notice her, why should he? As he watched a young girl swinging from monkey bars, the corner of his eye held the girl running toward him. In spite of himself, Avery quickly looked her way again.
This time, her eyes caught his. Help me, she mouthed to him as he tried to look away. Please, help me.
Shocked, he tore his gaze away and looked around; as if to find the phantom to which she was speaking. Seeing only oblivious natures around himself, Avery looked back to the captivating gaze of the girl, and gestured lamely to himself in question.
Nodding, she closed the now short gap to Avery and flung herself into his arms. His surprise not abated from her words and actions, Avery suddenly grew suspicious. Nobody nowadays ran terrified to a complete stranger and grasped them as though their life depended upon never letting go. What was her game?
Thoughts of thieves and murders ran through his mind as he tried to shove her away. “Get off it!” he cried.
“No!” she replied fiercely looking once more into his eyes. “Do not let him in! Look into my eyes!”
Her gaze drew him in. Some foreign part of Avery wanted nothing more than to push her away and call the authorities. Yet as he could not look away from the beautiful sight of her eyes, the feelings of aggression and disgust began to fade.
“That’s it . . .” she whispered. “Just don’t look away and he cannot hold you. I need your help, and whether or not you like it I can see you’re the chosen one . . .”
Her words seemed to trail off as Avery’s soul seemed to be captured. Though he knew she was talking, he could not hear the words. The promise held within her hypnotizing eyes was too great. His fears, his inhibitions, his cares, all slipped away as the irises of her amber eyes contracted and shifted with her changing pupils. Such beautiful eyes should not exist. And such a strange color too. And yet, while he was swimming within those eyes, nothing else mattered.
Like a piece of glass shattering within his mind, she blinked.
Suddenly conscious of his surroundings once more, he noticed that it had become fully dark and a light rain began to mist over the park. The two of them had at some point moved to the park bench and were holding hands as lovers were wont to do.
“What just happened?” he asked.
“I ran to you,” she replied,” he tried to take your mind, to force me away, but I convinced you otherwise. Then, through your connection, I was protected.”
“Wait . . . Who tried to take my mind? The thing you were running from?”
She smiled a thin lipped smile which shared more with a grimace than an expression of joy. “Thing is perhaps the most appropriate description of him.”
Utterly confused, Avery shook his head. “What is going on?” he asked as he took his hands from hers.
Instantly she shivered and rubbed her hands along her arms to warm herself. It was then he noticed her attire. She had a short, dark gray plaid skirt and a tight, sleeveless black top. The shirt clung tightly to her lithe figure with a neck akin to that of a turtleneck. Over her chest there was a hole sewn into the shirt, much like a keyhole. Beneath the shirt she wore a necklace with a silver pendant of a dragon holding a ruby. Of course, it was due to the keyhole in the shirt that he could see the pendant at all. She wore no tights, and simple short black wedge heels. While her outfit was nice, even somewhat businesslike, it was obvious by the way she wore it that she had never worked in an office a day in her life. Or, if she had, she disguised it better than anyone Avery had ever met.
Suddenly overcome with chivalry (something he’d never quite managed to master), Avery offered his wool coat to the girl. She smiled slightly and wrapped it around her shoulders. Smiling in return, he said simply, “I’m Avery.”
“Thank you,” she replied.
He looked questioningly at her.
“I mean . . . thank you for offering your name. It means a lot where I come from. I’m Sara.”
Smiling once more he replied, “Well then, thank you Sara.”
She laughed a silvery laugh that seemed to tickle the depths of Avery’s soul, and he couldn’t help but smile himself. After a short pause, he asked, “So . . . are you going to finish telling me what happened here?”
“You mean you don’t remember?” she stated quizzically.
“No,” he responded shaking his head with a slight frown. “Should I?”
She glanced to the surroundings as the lights in the park began to flicker to life. “Perhaps not here,” she said as she stood. “Your home is nearby. Let’s go there?”
“Excuse me? First, why do you assume that my house is nearby? And second, why would I take you there?”
“As to the first, I know a great many things, and while your home may not be within walking distance, it’s certainly within a short car ride. As for the second, well, are you in the habit of turning down attractive girls who ask to go to your house?”
Surprised by the question, he realized that no girl had ever asked to go to his house before. He had always offered (and had oft been rejected). He shrugged slightly as he asked, “Where’s your car then?”
“Oh! That’s right. You don’t have one yet!” she responded, laughing once more. “I guess we’re taking the bus.”
Too confused at this point to argue, Avery pointed to the nearest bus stop.
“But you need to promise me that you’ll explain everything once we get to my house.”
Smiling broadly once more, she nodded. “I promise.”

NaNoWriMo Day 1

2010-11-01T00:00:00.001-06:00

As a short preface to this post, I've been working on this idea for a number of months now. It's a combination of all the stories I've wanted to write for a number of years. It finally came to me in a dream that I should tie all the story lines together to form a single cohesive tapestry. Without further ado:

Lords of Darkness

He was going to die. Of this one immutable fact Redding was now certain. Millennia of life had given him the illusion of invulnerability. While he conceptually knew that at some point his existence could come to an abrupt halt, he had long since forgotten the fear this truth could cause. Coursing through his veins he now understood what mortals lived with every day. Fear and loathing mingled within his mind as his vision began to blur and the dark figure before him walked slowly forward. He somehow always knew in his hearts that he would eventually die. He had simply never imagined it would be like this. He had never imagined the prophecy would call him, the youngest of the Lords to be the first to die. Yet here he was, chained to the wall in a dark room, with the shadow looking at him evilly.
“It’s almost time, isn’t it?” the sinister voice asked.
Redding moaned weakly. Never had he imagined his actions could have created such a monster. Redding knew he was not a good man. Of that he was certain. But he’d never imagined that his sins would lead to the creation of such a being. This . . . thing, for he truly could not be called a man any longer, knew all Redding’s vulnerabilities. All of his weaknesses. And now, with Redding’s death, he would grow all the more powerful.
The hard stone scraped against Redding’s back as he twisted, trying to find some sort of comfort for his now skinless back. Millennia ago, Redding had found rock to be quite comfortable. But centuries in his human form had softened him. He’d become used to the comforts of humanity. He supposed now this was the price to pay.
“Not even a word?” Snapping back to reality, Redding realized the darkness before him was speaking again.
“You’ll never win,” Redding snarled with a sudden fierceness roiling inside. “Your very presence shows the invocation of prophecy. A prophecy in which you die.”
“Ah death. You should be meeting him any minute now. There’s not much blood left inside you now is there?”
His spurge of energy gone, Redding’s head hung limply as he rasped for breath. The shadow was right. Death was close indeed. Though Redding had lived far longer than any human would have survived, even he, one of the few Lords left in existence could not ultimately survive the torture being given.
Not many creatures could be skinned alive and live through it.
As the blood pouring from Redding’s body slowed to a drip, the spell carved into the stone floor began to glow faintly. Breath hissed through the shadow’s teeth as he inhaled sharply.
“It’s time. Let’s take that immortal soul you have and drink to a long life of prosperity and power; shall we?”
Drawing the knife from his belt, he walked slowly forward. Gaining substance as he drew close, the being took on the form of a tall, black haired man. Redding knew this to be an approximation of the human body he used to have. It was not possible though, to erase decades of exposure to the Dark Realm. Though he was solid enough, his features held a feral, wild look, which Redding knew to be the very essence of evil which now flowed through the man’s veins.
“You took my life from me,” the man stated with a quiet power. “I’m simply returning the favor.”
With that he plunged the knife into Redding’s skinless chest.
The manacles chained to the wall cut deeply into Redding's wrists. While the man standing before him thought of himself as a lone agent, seeking revenge, Redding knew the truth. He was simply a part of something much larger. Larger even, than Redding himself. By killing Redding, the man was enacting an ancient prophecy. One which would ultimately lead to the demise of all Dragon Lords, unless the pawn was found which could collapse the thread. For the sake of his fellows, Redding hoped the pawn could be found.
Drawing out the knife, the silvery substance of Redding’s soul hung from the tip like silken thread. As Redding’s eyes closed for the last time, he bore witness to the man carving a spell with the knife into his own flesh. Redding knew with his final thoughts that his fellow Dragon Lords must find their pawn. Only the one so named in prophecy could defeat the dark man now drawing Redding’s very soul into his flesh.

All Hallow's Eve / NANOWRIMO

2010-10-28T08:41:00.000-06:00

It's that time of year again. The time of year for me to put off making a costume until it's too late. This year I made a valiant effort, even going to the trouble to buy the material, cut out the sewing pattern, and even cut the fabric.

It was about this point that I realized that I screwed up and was making a suit which would fit one of the Lollipop Guild.

So, here I am. 3 days from Halloween, completely costumeless.

I suppose it's not that big of a deal. Halloween has always been my favorite holiday for a number of reasons. I remember being a die-hard trick or treater until I was 18 years old. When you consider that I was already 6'3" by the time I was 18, you can imagine why I got some funny looks.

This year, I had the most awesome idea to go as Beetlejuice. Since I've been growing out my hair, I could totally have pulled it off. Unfortunately though, I had the mishap with the fabric.

I suppose though it's not that big of deal. I'll just go as the Dread Pirate Roberts.

In other news, it's soon going to be November, which means that NANOWRIMO is coming up. NANOWRIMO stands for NAtional NOvel WRIting MOnth. I've never actually officially participated, and I think this month will be the first.

Rather than trying to hit the 50k mark though, my goal is to simply write a page a day. I figure if I write a page a day for 90 days, I'll have enough material for a book, which I have been meaning to write for a number of years now. In my page-per-day endeavor, I'm going to try posting it here on my blog, that way you can all keep me accountable.

And now back to our (semi)regularly scheduled programming

2010-10-21T08:31:00.000-06:00

Writing a blog is weird. As hard as I've tried to make things funny, poignant, or interesting, I have found myself drifting away from this blog.

I'm blaming it on my stubborn refusal to write in first person perspective. I wanted to spice things up, make them different from other blogs by writing my blog as a story. But I've found that it's far more soothing (and far easier) to simply write my thoughts as they come. As it is, I'm abandoning my writing in the third person view, though the name of the Len-a-blog is sticking around. Mainly for comical inside joke purposes . . . Shut the fuck up, it amuses me.

Anyway. It's been a month of firsts for me. Let's start with the first . . . um . . . first(?). I went on my annual vacation with Marque, leaving little D'ante at home with Farmor. We started on our path to Cali, to go on our first cruise.

On the way, we stopped in Vegas. I've never spent any extended amount of time in Vegas, so it was cool to spend a couple days there before going on the cruise. To get myself into proper Vacation mode, I went out and got drunk. We ended up going to Fremont Street. Apparently, this is the place where the locals go to have fun in Vegas, or so I'm told. While there, we ended up going to a strip club (not a first) and I ended up getting a Lap Dance. From two girls at once. So, there's a couple of first here. First lap dance. First lap dance from 2 girls. First time spending 253 dollars on 10 minutes of my life.

As first experiences go, it was totally worth it. But I'll never spend that much money on 10 minutes again.

After leaving Vegas, we got to Cali to leave on the cruise. Being our first cruise, I wasn't sure what to expect, but it was everything I had hoped for. The food was great. The facilities were awesome. And the entire ship was decorated like Rapture from BioShock. At least, what Rapture would have looked like before everything started going downhill.

While on the cruise I went snorkeling. This was another first for me, and I have to say that I enjoyed that more than anything else on the vacation. It was so awesome to see tropical fish just right there, in front of me. Like being in an aquarium. Quite possibly one of the most amazing experiences I've ever had.

As for the last first in this long line of firsts, I had my first party. This is the first house party I've ever had, and I'd qualify it as a definite success. The housewarming party was in a word, amazing. We had a professional bartender on site, who was AWESOME, I rented some professional audio equipment, and I got an amazing karaoke program with 17,800 songs. It was the first completely legal party I'd ever been to (not a single underage drinker, no illegal substances), and it was the first time I've had the cops called to my house to break up a party (first of many I'm sure).

James Patrick Caviezel Jr. has stolen all the black paper (because he hates me)

2010-09-16T13:32:00.002-06:00

The time has come, friendlies. After almost exactly one year from starting the process, Mystern has the date set for the house warming party. You're all invited of course, just send an email to Mystern asking for an invite.

So it was, Mystern made the invitations last night. Because it's going to be a swanky party, full of awesome, Mystern wanted to have uber nice invitations. But Mr James Patrick Caviezel Jr had other plans.

You remember the movie Count of Monte Cristo (2002), in which James Patrick Caviezel played Edmond Dantes? It's an amazing move, and Mystern would highly recommend it. As part of the Count of Monte Cristo, Edmond Dantes (Jim Caviezel) essentially bought the title of Count.

After becoming a count, he plans a party to announce his arrival to France. It was this party which inspired Mystern's plan. James P. Caviezel (playing Edmond Dantes) sends out invitations. These swanky invites appear in black envelopes, with the actual invitations appearing on black paper.

Mystern wanted to model his invitations after The Count of Monte Cristo, James Patrick Caviezel. He quickly found though, that James P. Caviezel would not be copied.

Some may blame it on the fact that ink nowadays is translucent, allowing the color behind the ink to show through. Mystern knows better though. Mystern knows it's James P. Caviezel specifically thwarting him. James Patrick Caviezel Jr. (playing Edmond Dantes) refuses to allow anyone to show him up, and thus has purchased the entire world stock of black paper.

This is most definitely not the first time he has had problems. This time though, Mystern decided to get even, and made better invitations!

Yes. That's sealing wax. It may not be on black paper, but James Patrick Caviezel Jr. didn't have a seal on his invitations.

Forty three thousand

2010-09-10T12:12:00.000-06:00

As you all know, Marque and Mystern decided to take advantage of the free 8,000 from the government and buy a home. After 6 months of delays, they finally closed on the home in July. They have had minor issues here and there, but those have been taken care of by the home warranty coordinator. And then last week they got the first water bill in the mail. As Marque is the one who handles the bills, she simply informed Mystern of the amount. Just over 130.00, to which he exclaimed "That's insanely high!"

While that may not seem like much of an amount, Mystern recalled that the price for water in Utah is extremely low. In addition, 2 working adults in the house and one child who is only home at the same time as the adults. Couple that with the fact that there is .09 of 1 acre of land, and that bill begins to seem extremely high indeed.

Here's a quick breakdown of the pricing structure.

Monthly Base Rate $34.88
Monthly Usage Rate up to 10,000 gal. $1.64 per 1000 gallons
10,001 to 28,000 gal. $1.84 per 1000 gallons
28,001 to 48,000 gal. $2.05 per 1000 gallons
48,001 gal. and up $2.25 per 1000 gallons

So, taking a look at the usage breakdown on the bill, and it simply stated the start of the meter, and the end of the meter read. Starting at 25, and ending the cycle at 68. Then, in little letters at the bottom of the bill it says "In thousands of gallons"

That means, according to the city, Mystern used 43 thousand gallons of water during the month. That means he could have:

A 12' x 24' Oval swimming pool filled it 7 times during the month, and
still have 1000 gallons left over.
Taken a full bath fifteen times a day (even though he only has 1
bathtub in the house), every day for 1 month
Had 24 thousand times the daily recommended water amount for the family

The icing on this cake made of water is the woman at the city didn't think it was odd at all. Mystern explained the problem, and her exact words were "That's actually pretty standard"

To which he replied, "That's fifteen hundred gallons a day"

She created a work order to come check the meter again, though nothing has yet been resolved. Utterly, fucking, ridiculous.

Boulder part 2 - Adventures in (un)reality

2010-08-20T08:11:00.000-06:00

Perhaps it's the scenery of Boulder, or perhaps it's the rurality (holy shit, that's an actual word?). Whatever it is, the entire place has a special feeling about it. It is truly out in the wilderness, and as such, before Mystern left Salt Lake, he decided to pick up some goodies. So he called around, and got hooked up with his brother's dealer, who didn't have any E, but did have some mushrooms.

Deciding this was an acceptable substitute, and having heard that outdoors settings are ideal for mushrooming, he purchased them and he and Bertrand were on their way.

As was mentioned before, it took them four and a half hours to get to Boulder, and they arrived well past midnight Friday. it being far too late at that point, Mystern had a couple beers, and promptly passed out in the tent.

The next day, Mystern and Bertrand went out walking toward "The Tree." The Tree is an old large cottonwood tree which is growing almost by itself out in a field near the property in Boulder. It's another one of those special places. On the way back Bertrand took Mystern to a property in Boulder which is for sale.

Upon leaving the property, Mystern noticed this growing out of the ground:

Which, if you notice, looks an amazing amount like this:

About 5 years ago, when Mystern was growing into himself, and experimenting with various things, he became interested in Mushrooms, and performed extensive research regarding the cultivation and identification of Mushrooms.

It never led to anything, but all that came back to him as he stared at the mushroom growing out of a piece of cow shit.

"Hey Bertrand . . . Look at this"

"You think that's real?"

"I'm not sure . . ."

So the two of them immediately went to the house, and began doing research. After 2 hours of exhausting research, they decided that they did indeed have what they thought they had. So they did the only logical thing . . . They began searching for more.

For about 4 hours out in the rain, the two friends scoured the rural landscape looking for more mushrooms growing from horse and cow shit. They found plenty, and after the research, they took them into the house to dry.

While they never did eat any of the mushrooms they found (being two and a half hours from the nearest emergency room), they did polish off the ones they brought from Salt Lake.

In addition, they mixed in half a pill of E, and went stargazing.

Mixing E with Shrooms is an interesting experience to say the least. The E creates a sense of euphoria and loving, while the Shrooms create a feeling of connectedness with the earth (at least in an outdoor setting that's what happens). So Mystern found himself in a loving, fantastic trip where he loved the earth, and the earth loved him. And what a trip it was.

He went with a number of other (sober) people out to the cliffs to watch the stars, it was phenomenal. Dozens of shooting stars, and the remaining stars simply played with Mystern's consciousness.

With the mountains looking like they were made of chocolate marshmallows, and the plants seeming to grow before his eyes, Mystern enjoyed himself immensely.

Of all the trips Mystern has been on, Boulder stands in the top five for sure.

Boulder part 1 - Special places

2010-08-12T11:01:00.001-06:00

Last Tuesday, Mystern was driving home from D&D, about 9:15 PM. Upon turning onto a street he usually does not take home, he was greeted by the flashing lights of Officer Pat Dempsey. The officer was nice enough, only writing Mystern for going 48 in a 30 zone, and having the previous owner's plates on the car. He just gave a warning for the incorrect address on Mystern's license, and the fact that Mystern was speeding in a construction zone. It's not the first time Mystern has received a ticket, but it is the first time that he is going to physically appear in the court regarding the case. He figures the Judge will me more lenient if he explains that he didn't know it was not legal to use the previous owner's plates, and he rectified the situation the very next day.

Because of this sequence of events, Mystern decided to hook up the radar detector he has, which came with the car. It's a damn good thing too, as Mystern would soon learn on his trip to southern Utah.

On Friday evening, Mystern had made plans with Bertrand to travel for the weekend to Boulder, UT. After much delay, and much running around, the two of them finally left the Salt Lake Valley at about 8:00 PM.

It took them 4 and a half hours to get to Boulder. The radar detector came in extremely handy, especially through the little towns with a speed limit of 35.

Here's a map of Boulder courtesy of Google.

That's the entire "City" (read: town).

It's been a while since Mystern spent any time in a truly rural place. And with the nearest shopping mall (and emergency room for that matter) over two hours away, Boulder could be considered truly rural. It somehow looked to Mystern as an odd combination of all the rural places he's lived; Denmark, Idaho and Oregon.

In total spite of the location, the location is one of the best parts of Boulder. You see, Utah has five national parks, and some of the most beautiful, raw, natural scenery you will find anywhere. Boulder has easy access (that's what she said!) to a number of these national parks, and even some just a hop and a skip away in another state. From Boulder Mountain (which one needs to travel over to get to Boulder), you can even see the four corners states.

There are some places on this world that are simply . . . unique. Special in a way which cannot be defined. these places exist as a place of wonder. Living proof of something greater in the universe than ourselves. Boulder is one of these places, and nearby are others. While there, Mystern had a chance to visit Slot Canyon. It's perhaps one of the most beautiful places you'll ever visit.

All in all, it was a phenomenal trip, and Mystern is now considering buying his second property there. Soon you'll hear about exactly what he did, instead of just where he did it.

I'm on an Internet!

2010-08-03T12:05:00.002-06:00

When you buy a new house, there's sometimes some things that just need taken care of. There's also some things which are just expected to be done. For example, here's the floor plan of Mystern's home. The red dots are places where internet jacks have been wired into the wall.

Mystern paid a little extra to have additional jacks installed in the wall, to allow him to use the internet wired in the home in multiple places. Typically, in a case where one pays extra for something, one expects it to be in working order.

These internet jacks have wires which go through the walls down to the basement where a router hooks up to the feed from the fiber line outside the home. It came as a complete surprise to Mystern when he moved in to the home, that a 4 port router had been installed to connect the jacks throughout the house to the internet.

Take a look at the number of internet jacks on that floor plan . . . I count 6, how about you? Let's not forget the solar panels require a dedicated internet port as well, making a total of 7. Riddle me this: How does one connect 7 wires into a 4 port router?

Answer: One does not.

Mystern called up the home warranty coordinator, who immediately called AVI (the company who installed the internet jacks and all wiring for the house.

Mystern: "Hello?"
AVI: "May I please speak with Mystern?"
M: "This is Mystern."
AVI: "I understand you have some concern about your internet access?"
M: "Yes, I don't understand why I paid for extra internet jacks in my walls and every time I want to use one of them I need to go down into the basement and switch around wires"
AVI: "Well, Daybreak requires each house have a minimum of a 4 port router in the house. We have installed a 4 port router to meet the minimum requirements for Daybreak."
M: "But the house needs a minimum of 7 ports for all jacks to be active."
AVI: "We did not think that anyone would be using more than 4 ports at a time."
M: "Why the fuck would I pay for additional ports if I did not expect to use them? If you're talking strictly from a components point of view, I have 5 devices which can connect to the internet, in addition to that, I need a dedicated line for my solar panels."
AVI: "Well, we just installed what Daybreak requires."
M: "Ok, I can go through the homebuilder to fix this, or you can fix it now for me."
AVI: "You can buy an 8 port switch from us for $58.00"
M: ". . ."
AVI: "I even have them in stock."
M: "Why the fuck would I pay for a switch when I purchased the house under the assumption that I would be able to use all of the internet jacks that I . . . oh I don't know . . . paid extra fucking money for?!"
AVI: "Well it's not our responsibility to make sure all of your internet jacks are active."
M: "Ok, I'm just going to resolve this through the homebuilder."
click

The next day, after speaking to the home warranty coordinator, Mystern receives a phone call from AVI.

M: "Hello?"
AVI: "Hi this is Ryan from AVI, I'm just calling to set up an appointment to come install a new switch for you."
M: "Today at 3:30"
click

Sometimes it pays to be persistent. Honestly though, what the fuck? It makes no sense whatsoever to pay for something you wouldn't be able to use.

Of course, we're not even going to mention the problems with Mystern's ISP.

Fashionista.

2010-07-27T07:35:00.000-06:00

Marque and Mystern love shopping. It's one of the biggest dangers of becoming fashionista yuppies. Both concerned about always looking good, and having the dangerous capacity to forfeit food to have clothes, the two of them find themselves shopping on a regular-to-semi-regular basis. Regular enough to know many of the store clerks by sight and some by name. Regular enough to have the shop clerks know Mystern and Marque on sight, and come running with dollar signs in their eyes.

On many occasions, Marque likes to remind Mystern that his High School Education is not the end all, be all of knowledge. While Mystern knows this is true, he has indeed picked up and remembered many useful bits of knowledge from the variety of experiences he had 6-8 years ago (wow, that makes Mystern sound old).

Some of this knowledge came from the Fashion Design class he took. Mystern loooves fashion. He'd consider himself metrosexual, but he isn't skinny enough for that. As is, he's simply a large guy with good taste in fashion.

For as long as they have been together, Mystern has loved picking out clothes for Marque. Having been raised against her will conservative, Marque usually asks Mystern's opinion about the clothes she would like to buy. At which point Mystern tells her to put back the potato sack, and pick up the bikini.

It's been a constant battle for the past 5 years he's been with Marque. She constantly asks for his opinion regarding the clothes he purchases, and constantly disregards said opinion.

The other day, the two of them went to Victoria Secret, because Marque was complaining her bras had become too large as she had lost weight. While there, Marque looked at a few things here and there, tried a couple things on, and became frustrated at Mystern's lack of response to the items she kept picking out.

"Well, you're not picking things that will fit you well," he says.

"What are you talking about?" She replies.

Mystern then combs through the drawers until he finds two suitable items for her to try on. As with almost everything he has had her try on in the past, they fit fantastic.

Even though it was 7 years ago, there's something to be said about having a basic knowledge of how fashion works with different body types.

And fortunately, with Marque's new mommy makeover he will get to pick out some awesomely scandalous clothes.

Don't forget to breathe

2010-07-23T12:30:00.002-06:00

Well, it's been quite a long time since there's been a post about music round here. Today we're going to look at one of Mystern's favorite songs. Because it's a little hard to distinguish the words, I've copied the lyrics down below. In Mystern's opinion, these are some of the most beautiful lyrics ever written.

Once upon a dream, I was dying for you
Tasting only sweet, drinking memories of you
Your hand touches my cheek as you whisper softly

Don't forget to breathe
Our love will be redeemed
And when you take my hand
You'll know exactly where I am

A toast to starry nights, seeking comfort divine
Celebrating life, swimming circles in light
And I look to the sea and hear you calling softly

Don't forget to breathe
Our love will be redeemed
And when you take my hand
You'll know exactly where I am

I hear you calling to me
See you but you can't see me
We never said our goodbyes
So dark and lonely your eyes
You'll always be in my heart
There is no death to us part

Don't forget to breathe
Our love will be redeemed
And when you take my hand
You'll know exactly where I am
You'll know exactly where I am

Letter to Flesh colored Swim trunks guy

2010-07-22T13:17:00.000-06:00

Dear fellow Gym goer,

I'm writing this letter to let you know, that we, as a collective population who attends the Gym pool on a regular basis, are not amused. We do indeed understand that you may not know that wearing your flesh-colored swim attire makes you seem conspicuously nude in the pool, and this letter is to bring that fact to your attention.

Perhaps you do indeed recognize the color that adorns the rest of your body, and thought you'd try and match it as closely as possible. While I do indeed appreciate the effort to be fashionably conscious, I'd like to point out that the size of your swim attire also helps create the illusion that you are indeed, wearing nothing at all. Again, perhaps it was your fashion conscious mind that decided since sung pants look great outside the pool, they must also look fine inside the pool. Let me assure you this is not the case.

The combination of the color of your swim attire and the wedgie the size of said attire creates, makes it seem as though your bare ass floats gracefully through the water.

Perhaps you do indeed know the swim attire you have seems wildly inappropriate, and you simply cannot afford something new. If this is the case, I beg of you to please tell me and I'll start a community fund to purchase you new swimming trunks. If it is the case that you know exactly what you're doing, and you do it on purpose, I would just like to say that I cannot thank you enough for not performing the backstroke whilst swimming.

- Mystern

For some reason, houses are a lot bigger when not full of stuff.

2010-07-21T11:22:00.001-06:00

Go figure that, friendlies.

It was Saturday that the realities of homeownership began to hit Mystern. When you own a house, you're a lot more responsible for all the basic upkeep of things. Upon the arrival of the wee morning hours, Mystern decided to tackle the lawn, which began to take on the appearance of the Florida Everglades.

Well, let me tell you friendlies, if you think that the yard looked bad before Mystern mowed it, imagine how it looked after he was finished mowing without a bag for the clippings . . . Suddenly the Everglades looked like a swamp of death and decay and overall messiness. And since HOA's are the DEVIL, Mystern knew he couldn't get away with leaving the yard in that sorry state. After much raking and dumping and sweeping, he realized that his yard doesn't look too bad. Maybe he could get used to this homeownership stuff.

So around 5:00 pm he and Marque headed down to the U-Haul place to get all their shit out of storage.

4 hours later, Mystern realized something . . .

Mystern is one of the most awesome and impressive people you will ever meet. So much so that he realized sometimes he is simply too awesome. In packing the truck, he somehow managed to fit the entire contents into the storage unit with a good 3 feet left before the end of the truck. Now, if any of you have ever moved before you realize that this is not the ideal situation when packing a truck. Ideally you cram that fucking thing so tight that you have to stick everything else in other places (that's what she said!).

Pondering this quandary, Mystern decided that the only thing to be done was to spread out the packing a little more. At which time he realized that all of the fragile things, which he had purposely placed on top, would now be in danger of falling TO THE DEATH!

But nothing broke, and Mystern spent an entire day bringing boxes from the truck, into the house, with the final score being dragging the washer and dryer up the stairs (2nd floor laundry rooms are at the same time incredibly fantastic and stupid), and hooking them up so he could finally start wearing underwear again.

Upon all this moving, and shifting, Mystern has come to the realization that this place is his new home, and it's actually a permanent place to live. There are no more apartments, no more moving if he never wants to again, and he can do what ever the fuck he wants to this house (third floor, here we come!).

Sunday night, Mystern returned the U-Haul truck to the place, dropped off the key in the night box, and went home to bed.

The next day, he gets an email from Marque telling him U-Haul charged him for 79 cents a mile, instead of the 59 he had been told. She had already called them, to no avail to get the 15 dollars back for the rental, so it was that she called for help from Mystern.

As you may know, Mystern is extremely good at working the system. He's so good in fact that he managed to once get a brand new PS3 for 100 dollars. So, in this particular scenario, here's the math:

Mystern rented a truck for 35 dollars, with mileage actually charged at 79 cents per mile. With 61 miles traveled, that's just under 85 dollars for the cost of the truck. In the meantime, between moving out of the apartment, and into the house, Mystern rented a storage unit from U-Haul for the 2 weeks he needed to live out of a hotel. The storage unit monthly rate was 119.00, with the 2nd month free. As Mystern was planning on being at the storage unit less than 2 months, he considered 60 per month to be a fair rate.

So, Mystern called the U-Haul, and spoke with the CSR there, continuing to push for a refund for the mileage until the CSR was so exasperated at her inability to do anything, that she was searching for any available option out. It was then that Mystern brought out the big guns.

Mystern: "I'm so utterly horrified at this whole situation. I'd like to cancel my storage unit right now, because of this whole situation. I'd like a refund for the remainder of this month."
CSR: "Well, is your storage unit cleaned out?"
M: "Yes, it has been since I rented the truck. I wasn't planning on canceling the unit, but this whole situation is so messed up that I just want to be done with it."
CSR: "I'm sorry, we don't pro-rate the monthly rate of a storage unit."
M: "Whatever, cancel it anyway. I've already paid for 2 months."
CSR: "I see that, so it looks like you are due a $119.00 refund."
M: "For the 2nd month, for which I have already paid, correct?"
CSR: "Yes, that's what our system says."
M: "Great, I'll be down today to pick it up."

It should be mentioned that Mystern knew damn well how the system worked. Basically, according to the U-Haul system, he had paid for 2 months, and the 2nd month being free was issued as a credit to that transaction. Thus, according to the system, Mystern had paid for two months.

So, Mystern paid 85.00 to get 119.00. Not a bad deal for him. The funny part is that while Mystern knows this isn't the most ethical thing to have done, he wouldn't have bothered at all if they had simply charged the damn rate they had originally quoted.

WTF religion?

2010-07-16T07:15:00.005-06:00

As some of you may have noticed, to your right there's a list of bloggies that Mystern follows. Occasionally, Mystern will take up the cause and wade into the world of bloggingingness to find sommat to read. Sommat new that is. As is, is was, he tries to find interesting things that look like good things to read.

It's hit and miss, and you'll notice the list change depending on the recent content of the blogs and how interesting Mystern finds it at the moment. Mostly though, he enjoys blogs which do not always say the same thing.

Some bloggers are interesting, in a random sort of way, but those get stale because the posts are always, always the same thing. Perchance it's a character flaw?

As Mystern became bored at work recently, he began searching for new blogs to add to the blogger roll list thingie, and became increasingly upset at the content. Here's a short list of the blogs he came across:

http://frmattmirabile.blogspot.com/?expref=next-blog
http://sandys365dayjourney.blogspot.com/?expref=next-blog
http://yofrizz.blogspot.com/?expref=next-blog
http://windowtochristianministries-journeys.blogspot.com/?expref=next-blog
http://mylifebygogogoff.blogspot.com/?expref=next-blog
http://the-hermeneutic-of-continuity.blogspot.com/?expref=next-blog
http://somemormonstuff.blogspot.com/?expref=next-blog
http://bloginthenow.blogspot.com/?expref=next-blog
http://africanleadership.blogspot.com/?expref=next-blog
http://amos-and-paul.blogspot.com/?expref=next-blog
http://richlysupplied.blogspot.com/?expref=next-blog
http://dianegw.blogspot.com/?expref=next-blog
http://transformingrenewal.blogspot.com/?expref=next-blog
http://deborahbrunet.blogspot.com/?expref=next-blog
http://stacy-soulrestoration.blogspot.com/?expref=next-blog
http://stirringsandechoes.blogspot.com/?expref=next-blog
http://natalieeeeee.blogspot.com/?expref=next-blog
http://churchchickie.blogspot.com/?expref=next-blog
http://everydayplaces.blogspot.com/?expref=next-blog
http://swedeheart.blogspot.com/?expref=next-blog
http://thedaspecial.blogspot.com/?expref=next-blog
http://sweatinitout.blogspot.com/?expref=next-blog
http://theo2011.blogspot.com/?expref=next-blog
http://danielbaeliason.blogspot.com/?expref=next-blog
http://transformingrenewal.blogspot.com/?expref=next-blog

Now . . . perhaps it's just a failure in the "next blog" button on blogspot, or perhaps it's the universe trying to tell him something, but the synopsis of all of these blogs is as follows:

Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, religion, blah, blah, blah. My religion blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, God this, God that.

Now, Mystern isn't one to bash another's belief structure. Quite the contrary, he typically supports the character it requires to follow one's beliefs. However, he does not have the patience to read through other people telling him about their beliefs and how they apply to life.

Seriously though, of all those blogs . . . every single one?

Perhaps it's Google's fault?

Closed for business

2010-07-15T12:43:00.000-06:00

Well friendlies, it's done. Mystern and Marque have officially closed on the house, the loan has funded, and they have keys. Tonight marks the first night they will spend in the new house.

It's been an interesting nine months. Since Oct of last year, many things have changed, and many things have remained the same. Definitely a rollercoaster.

Of all the things which have occurred, one stands out to Mystern more than any other. Growing up, Mystern was offered endless possibilities. It's a lesson that took him 20 years to learn, but being highly intelligent doesn't count for jack shit if you don't do anything with it. As a child, Mystern's interests were varied, and much like the great king Midas, everything he touched turned to pure awesomeness. He was a ball of raw, seething talent that knew no boundaries.

Simply put, he was good at everything to which he took an interest.

It's interesting to note though, because of this, his interests continued to grow in number. As they grew, he divided his time between each, picking up a little there, and a little here. Until came the time when he knew at least a little about many things. Music, poetry, writing, architecture, engineering, fashion design, computers, jewelry fabrication, just to name a few. As a side effect of such interests, in addition to the naturally occurring talent Mystern manifested, he became lazy.

He soon learned that with a minimum of work, he could easily achieve the standard for which others reached. Soon thereafter, he simply didn't bother even that, and took the barest possible approach to problems, and if he could not achieve them with the minimum amount of effort required for everything else, he would simply give up, not feeling that anything was worth his time.

As time progressed, this trend persisted. Graduating high school with a 2.95 GPA. Not bothering to go to college. Losing many jobs due to attendance issues, and quitting others he simply felt were not worth his time.

And then, quite recently, Mystern discovered a gradual change taking hold on his consciousness. In the process of purchasing his house, he has discovered himself dropping his interests. Over time, he has discovered himself dropping everything outside his goal, and working harder than he has ever worked to achieve a single thing in his life. Many, many times he though of quitting, but something inside him changed. Some internal switch was flipped, and Mystern found himself beginning to achieve the impossible.

And now it's done.

Mystern has discovered something within himself which has been lacking his entire life. He has discovered focus. He has learned to focus his energies exclusively on what he is trying to achieve. Dropping everything else, and driving himself toward his goal. Finding any means at all to achieve his goal.

The only question now which remains is: what next?

It's a question which he has been thinking about for a while now. All the projects which he wanted to do (yet put off) while he was getting the house now seem listless. Mystern wants to finish something. Something great. Something which he has wanted to do for as long as he can remember.

Mystern wants to author a book.

And some battles are worth fighting

2010-07-09T16:17:00.000-06:00

So my friendlies, here we are. It's been almost a year, but the house is almost Mystern's. The documents have been prepared, the loan has been approved by UHA, and closing is set for MONDAY!

And what a tortuous process it has been. A couple weeks ago, with a closing date of June 28 set, Mystern and Marque had met all the requirements that had been set before them. The underwriter of the loan set forth additional requirements, and they pulled credit again.

At the time, three problems occurred. First, the credit came in low, by 2 points. Apparently, using the CC to pay 450 dollars for the appraisal had lowered the credit score below the required threshold. Keep in mind that using the CC had been suggested by the mortgage brokers.

The second problem: The appraisal came back a full 7 thousand dollars below the loan amount for the house. Apparently, the appraiser had not bothered to get comparable properties, nor done any research into the house.

And the last problem: Out of nowhere, there is now a requirement that no accounts on the credit file can show in dispute for any of the three bureaus. This required Mystern to call all three bureaus for both him, and Marque to have them updated manually. No small task.

So Mystern and Marque paid down the CC, pulling money out of thin air for the 8th time in the past 3 months. The appraisal was rebutted by the mortgage brokers, and was fixed, and Mystern stepped on some necks, and got the credit updated within 24 hours.

Then the underwriter decided out of nowhere that Mystern and Marque needed six thousand dollars just, you know, "in reserve" for the future mortgage payments, and it cannot come from any sort of a gift. It was at this point that Mystern lost it. Here's about how the conversation went:

Mystern: "That is completely fucking ridiculous, and unreasonable"
Steve, the mortgage broker: "I'm sorry, but that's what he wants"
M: "Awesome, so we are expected to have SIX THOUSAND DOLLARS simply LYING AROUND?"
S: "Well that's what the underwriter is requiring."
M: "Well then, make them un-require it, because that cannot be done. Period. I don't care what you have to do, but if that's a requirement, this loan will not close."

Within the day, Steve called back and informed Mystern the money was no longer a requirement.

It was the first time Mystern had issued an ultimatum, and it felt good. And of course, it panned out. Closing on Monday!

Some battles just aren't worth fighting

2010-06-18T10:21:00.000-06:00

Well friendlies, you remember the exterior rendering of what the house was supposed to look like? In case you don't, here's a quick recap:

This was the official approved color that Mystern was supposed to have. It is the color that he signed the contract for, and should have been the color for the house. Thus, I'm sure you all can imagine Mystern's surprise and consternation when he drove to the house on Monday, and found these colors being painted:

Apparently, the colors were approved up until 2 days before being scheduled to be painted. Then, without bothering to notify a single person other than the painters, the Daybreak Architectural Committee decided to change the colors.

While Mystern is not overly upset about the colors (except that yellow needs to go), he is extremely upset about the lack of communication. There's not much which can be done about the whole situation, because when you're part of an HOA, the HOA committee is GOD. Especially when it comes to exterior colors. So it was, all Mystern could do about the problem is send the following strongly worded email:

Dear Jeff,

I've purchased lot 108 of the Solaris Collection from Garbett homes. I'm emailing you in regard to the recent change to the exterior colors of the home (please see attached file).

In short, I'm wondering why I signed a contract for the home with the outside colors already approved, and until 3 days before being scheduled to be painted the colors were apporoved. Then, suddenly, last friday the colors were changed. This is extremely upsetting to myself and my wife because we were not notified of the change. In addition, John, the sales agent was not notified of the change. I needed to actually visit the house and see it being painted to discover the colors had changed.

Now, the fact that I hate the color scheme is secondary to the that of the complete lack of communication regarding the change. In addition, the new color scheme does not seem to follow the guidelines for exterior colors which has been set down by Daybreak, as a large portion of the new colors is yellow, and lot 107 and 110 have yellow exteriors as well.

At the very least, I would like the yellow on the new color scheme to be changed to another color, and the best case scenario I would like the originally approved color scheme.

Please understand that I am extremely upset about this change and would like a response as soon as possible.

Best Regards,
Mystern

Unfortunately, not much else can be done. It's a battle not worth fighting, especially because of the extras which have already been added to the home with no additional cost.

100 - Behind the glass.

2010-06-16T07:48:00.002-06:00

Today marks a milestone for this blog. I waved in passing at post 50, and now we've already arrived at post 100. I'm not including the introductory post though, so it might be 101. Anyway, I've decided to tell a true story about Mystern's life.

The fourteen year old boy looks to his father nervously as the two of them travel down the highway. He's not sure what to expect; his father has shared very few details of what is going to happen. The time seems to stall endlessly as the two travel.

Though usually his custom to fall asleep on long car rides with his father, Mystern's mind is racing far too fast for this to happen. Racing with thoughts of prison, crimes, and everything he has ever seen on TV about what happens in the world to which he has never been exposed.

The car slows as Mystern looks out the window toward the high, gray stone walls enclosing the compound of the county jail. The hot air rushes toward Mystern's face as he opens the door of the cream colored Mercedes Benz. Squinting in the bright California afternoon sun, he stares at the glass walls of the visitor entrance, considering the contrast to the gray stone walls surrounding the prisoner area.

"Come on Mystern," his father says brusquely as he begins walking toward the entrance. Mystern gathers his bearings and follows his father into the compound housing the man the two of them have come to see.

Entering the building, the cool AC rushes over the two of them as Mystern's father walks to the desk where a number of guards sit comfortably. Mystern stands next to his father as he speaks to the guard. The guard examines his ID and then Mystern's student ID which his father told him to bring instead of his passport.

"I'm sorry," the guard says, "this ID isn't valid to see a prisoner. It's far to easy to fake."

"But . . ." Mystern's father protests weakly.

"It's ok dad," Mystern says as he reaches into his pocket. "I have my passport."

Mystern's father looks sharply at his disobeying son but says nothing as Mystern hands the guard his newly printed passport.

The guard reviews the ID, and them motions for them to walk through the metal detector on the other side of the desk. Handing back the ID, he gives them a number.

Mystern's heart pounds as he thinks of what is about to happen. Consumed by his own mind, he thinks nothing of the time which flies by. Suddenly his father is calling him to stand. They follow a guard through the long tunnel to the elevators. His heart races as they enter and the guard turns a key and presses the button next to the small black letters "J BLOCK."

J Mystern thinks. J for Jared. Even though he knows the J block is just the block reserved for those awaiting transport from the jail to the prison. With a smoothly sickening lurch, the elevator comes to rest and the doors slide open. The guard exits and Mystern follows closely behind his father. Turning down the hall to the room with small booths and windows looking at the caged criminals, the guard points to the last stall on the left.

Mystern's father walks to the chair and sits as Mystern stands behind, staring at the man on the other side of the warped glass. His father picks up the telephone and begins speaking to the man. Mystern can only stare. The man looks so different. Was this the same person? Was this the man that used to buy him slurpees from 7-Eleven and give him piggyback rides the whole way? Was this the man who never said a mean word to Mystern and always took him walking along the railroad tracks through the alleys of South Salt Lake? No. The glass must change something.

It was the third time his father spoke to him before he realized that he was being offered the phone. As Mystern takes the phone, his father rises and allows Mystern to sit. Bringing the phone to his ear, he says simply, "Hey Jared."

"Hey Mystern," comes the reply distanced through the phone wires. "How's my baby brother doing?"

. . .

It's 6 years later as Mystern climbs into the rental car that he and his brothers have acquired to make the trek from Salt Lake to California. He's the one driving in the heat of the Southern California sun. It makes him sleepy as he follows possibly the only winding two lane highway in the entire state.

Half an hour. An entire hour. An hour and a half passes before Mystern and his eldest brother arrive at the complex of buildings housing the prisoners. The drab gray walls look exceedingly familiar as the two of them cross the courtyard to the small doors leading into the reception area.

It's crowded, and the low ceiling only adds to the stifling heat in the small, wood-paneled room. Behind a glass wall sits a guard with other shuffling in and out of the doors behind him. Mystern and Big J file their paperwork and take one each of the sparse seats in the small, uncomfortable room.

As before, Mystern is nervous, not knowing what to think. The sentencing has yet to take place, and he is not sure what to expect of the man they have come to see. Smelling of stale sweat and unwashed bodies, the room continues to fill with people coming to see family. Suddenly, the guard calls Mystern's number and he is walking down the hall with Big J.

The guard opens the door and informs them when the bell rings twice the visit is over.

The room contains two stalls, with the right unoccupied and the left, directly in front of the door lit and awaiting petitioners. Big J sits on the affixed stool, waiting for something, anything to happen as Mystern examines the room.

When the door opens, Mystern could not have expected the differences in the man who enters. He looks so aged. Could this be the same man with whom Mystern had lived every summer and every other Christmas? Was this the man who took Mystern to his office as he worked? This couldn't possibly be the man who built an empire of a company from nothing, with 26 offices nationwide. This frail, thin man couldn't possibly be the same spry person who took Mystern to Disneyland as a child. Jail it seemed, had broken his spirit. And from the amount of time it seemed he would spend here, Mystern could understand. 25 years may well be 100 with the age of the man behind the glass.

Big J turns to Mystern an offers the phone. Mystern, slightly afraid of what he will find on the other side, hesitantly takes the receiver. Pulling it to his ear, the static crackles as the man begins to speak.

"Hi Mystern."

"Hey Dad," Mystern replies.

Sunday playlist - May

2010-05-31T10:02:00.001-06:00

Yes, yes. I know it's a Monday. Fuck off, I was busy yesterday doing blog-type duties . . . Yeah . . .

Anywho. Here's a playlist of the stuff Mystern has listened to over the past month. As always, feel free to check out his bookmarked songs (from the Pandora widget to the right) to find the gems I couldn't find on Playlist.com

No central theme today, just randomness. I've arranged them from mellowest to . . . lesser mellow? Sure, that'll work. Today is post 99.

While we were on the subject . . .

2010-05-22T23:24:00.000-06:00

My god. Mystern hasn't had Pepsi for yeeeeeaaaarrrrs. He's currently drinking a Pepsi Max, and quite honestly, doesn't know what to think.

Enough randomness though. So I though in light of last post, I'd post about something that happened recently in Mystern's life. You may remember a post where I mentioned that Mystern has a heroin junkie living with him. Here's the scoop; from the beginning, if you please.

So, a couple years ago Mystern's adopted friend Gallenson got into a little bit of trouble. He'd always been a bit of a drug user, so one time he decided to try heroin. Why he would do such a thing, we're not entirely sure.

The next couple of years, he's been in and out of rehab, back and forth, battling his addiction and relapsed more than a couple times.

Perhaps a month ago, he came to Mystern and said that he was trying to get clean, and so Mystern (being the kind person he is) agreed to let him move in temporarily.

Gallenson is not a very cleanly person. It was a few days before Mystern and Marque started noticing a funk creeping out of his room. The funk of unwashed bodies and food left out too long. The funk of unwashed laundry and shoes worn without socks. And this funk pervaded the house.

(It's unfortunate that it was not the cool music funk)

It's also worth mentioning that Gallenson doesn't eat. Or more precisely, he doesn't cook, or eat anything that might require cooking. Throughout the time he was living with Mystern, he ate Mystern's beef jerky, D'ante's fruity pebbles, and Marque's cashews . . . and that's about it. You might think that such little food would not have an impact on Mystern's food bill . . . You'd be wrong.

So he lived with them. In and out of the house, Mystern rarely had any idea where he was. But when he moved in, Mystern set the firm rule that he was to start working a stable job within 3 weeks.

The third week, Gallenson spent almost no time in the apartment whatsoever. Thus when the day arrived, Mystern called up Jake (Mystern's brother who was hanging out with Gallenson). The two of them were scrapping, and Mystern did not consider that actual work, so he began packing up Gallenson's stuff. That's when he found a used syringe, and 3 syringe caps.

He called Jake, and told him Gallenson needed to pick up his stuff. Jake tried to say that Gallenson was working, and Mystern told him of the syringe. Jake understood and the conversation was ended. Shortly thereafter, Gallenson called. It is to Mystern's credit that he brooked no arguments, and simply told Gallenson he was gone.

Mystern has since noticed a number of missing articles from the house. Then again, what can you expect from an addict?

3 . . . 2 . . . 100

2010-05-20T09:41:00.001-06:00

Mystern's life has been interesting recently, which produces plenty of blogging material. As this is the 97th post on this blog, I've been thinking of what to post for number 100. Nothing has as yet come to mind, but I thought it plenty good enough to post about drugs for the 97th post here.

If you've read the archives of this blog at all you'll know that Mystern is no stranger to drugs. Breaking down the numbers, you could say that he uses marijuana perhaps 1-3 times a year, ecstasy perhaps 1-2 times a year, and whippets . . . well, he uses whippets perhaps 6 times a year. Most people would call this an occasional user, and Mystern would agree. It's not something that he does regularly, or has any want to do regularly, it's just something that he occasionally likes to do - much like going to an amusement park or a public swimming pool.

So it was for Mysten's 24th birthday he planned a weekend at Mary's. It was going to be an awesome night, with plenty of friends, and lots of fun. The plan was to be rolling (that's doing ecstasy for all you people who don't know out there), and Mystern arranged for a sitter for the baby, and planned on having a good time.

The day arrived, and Mystern called up Bertrand to ask about the night's plan. Apparently, most of the people living at Mary's house had deserted SLC for the weekend, and the only people who were going to be rolling were Mystern, Bertrand, and Marque.

The night happened, and it was fun. Everyone had a good time and even though Mystern felt a little cracked out a couple times, he was fine, except for the bare 2 hours of sleep that he received.

So, typically E lasts 5-6 hours for one pill. Mystern's not sure what this E was laced with, but it lasted 11 hours at minimum. He took two pills at 10:20 pm and was still feeling them at 9:00 am. The comedown was fine, and they lasted forever, but Mystern's pretty sure he's never going to do pink monkeys again. All because of the aftereffects.

The next day, Mystern, Bertrand and Marque were all not feeling too well. Bertrand and Marque moreso than Mystern, but there was definitely something in those pills which was out of the ordinary. Each of them lost several pounds from the night and none of them could eat anything more than a little bit of food for nearly 2 days. Of the experience, Mystern has come to the conclusion that pink monkeys, while cheap and fun while they last, are not worth the aftereffects.

Lost, aftermath, house and vanity irritation

2010-05-15T14:59:00.001-06:00

Looking at that title, it looks like I'm about to go on a rant about TV sitcoms. Not so my friendlies! Mystern watches not the TV box, and knows nothing about such time wasters. Instead, we're going to go on a little journey. The events portrayed in this blog post are true and accurate. Names and places may have been changed to protect the identities of the accused.

Thursday, Mystern's home: 8:30 PM (approx)
Marque: Hey Mystern, did you see the email from John about the house?
Mystern: No, what's it say?
Marque: It's just another picture of the house.

Friday, Mystern's Mother's home: 8:00 PM (approx)
Mystern appears to be irritated. When queried on the subject of his irritation, he replies he does not know, and that he is simply tired. His irritation should have been alleviated by the party for his twenty fourth anniversary of birth, however it was not. Listed below is the photo evidence of said party. This was all that remained at the scene.

Friday, Mystern's home: 8:35 PM
Upon arrival home, Mystern continues to be in a bad mood. Marque senses this and irritation colors her decision to go out with the girls in the evening.

Friday, Mystern's home: 10:00 PM
Marque leaves, thoroughly irritated with Mystern's irritation, despite his having gone to sleep and wishing her to have a fun night out.

Saturday, Mystern's home: 12:12 AM
Mystern receives a text message from Marque stating:

I'm drunk off my ass!

Saturday, Local Club in the city: sometime between 12:12 AM and 2:30 PM
Marque loses her iPhone. Calls Mystern and apologizes profusely, becomes extremely ill and requests Mystern pick her up because she is too drunk to drive.

Mystern picks up Marque and she becomes immediately ill in the car. The iPhone is nowhere to be found.

Saturday, eBay NACS headquarters: 12:35 PM
Marque informs Mystern she will not be drinking that much (especially for the sole purpose of getting even with Mystern?) again. iPhone is nowhere to be found.

Day 20 (framing)

2010-05-12T07:25:00.000-06:00

Since I apparently can't make a post for the life of me, I've decided to distract you all with a home update.

HOLY SHIT! I've got a BLOG?

2010-05-08T11:06:00.001-06:00

Writing a blog is an interesting experience. It's one of those mysteries of mankind that the interwebs has spawned upon us all. I maintain that (personal) blogs are written by writers who do not have the resources or patience to write a book. Eventually, many of these bloggers move on to bookdom, but overall, it's prettymuch a public, online journal that maybe, someday eventually someone will find.

I like to think that when I write, I write about poignant, or funny things, and as such I try to make each post have a point. At the very least a central theme. While the blogs with random thoughts written in stream of consciousness are fun to read, eventually they get stale, as there's noting really worth reading in them. I'd hate to have this happen to me, as I've gained a small following (according to Google Analytics at least).

So, fast approaching the 100th post of this blog, I have lost a little bit of steam. Sometimes things get laid by the wayside. I greatly admire the bloggers who can blog multiple times a week, and still maintain other aspects of life. Balance is important in all things. With the house is being built, another job requiring my attention, going to the gym, and babysitting the heroine junkie friend living in my house, this blog has certainly been not on the top of the priorities list.

Despite all this, I'd like to say that I'm back. The house is a mere 5 weeks from completion, and I'll still be giving you updates. I have plenty to share with you all, and I'll also be reading (and commenting upon) blogs that I, myself follow.

Sunday Playlist 4-25-10

2010-04-25T11:36:00.000-06:00

Mystern is an eccentric person. There's no denying it, and after reading this blog I'm sure this has become abundantly clear to all of you. While compiling today's playlist, it's most clear that this trait shines through in his taste of music as well. Fully half of the songs he bookmarks are not to be found on playlist.com. Because of this, we're moving to a monthly playlist, and today's playlist is a cop out post by just providing the link to Mystern's bookmarked songs on Pandora. The monthly playlist will appear on the last Sunday of each month :)

Day One (The big hole)

2010-04-24T13:50:00.001-06:00

Well my friendlies, it's official. Mystern has a big hole.

Isn't it a pretty hole? After two months of idiocy, the construction of the fucking house has started. And a collective sigh has been released from Mystern. How he's released a collective sigh when he's only a single person is beyond me.

Regardless, he did collectively sigh, and is safe in the knowledge that he has a hard and fast close date of June 24. This means he can lock in a rate for the loan (looking like 5.090 Fixed), and he will assuredly qualify for the first time home-buyer credit thingie-majig.

I'll keep y'all posted with some pics of the entire process. Stay tuned for more posts this week about Mystern's schizophrenia, the flesh-colored swim-trunks guy, and a review of Mystern's new video game.

Parking Nazi'd (or ninja'd if you prefer)

2010-04-22T21:06:00.001-06:00

The other day Aunt Juicebox posted about douchebags taking parking spots and it reminded Mystern of one of his favorite past-times. In the apartment complex where Mystern lives, each apartment has one assigned parking stall. For those people who have more than one car the second must be parked in an unassigned space. These spaces happen to be in a very inconvenient place compared to Mystern's apartment. Basically, Mystern lives in the back of the 200+ apartment complex. The closest unassigned parking spots are 8 spots to the South, and 6 Spots to the North. These parking stalls are shared between 6, 12 unit buildings. Therefore, any apartment out of these 72 units which has a second car (perhaps half of them) must fight for a space to park out of these 14, or be relegated to walking over a fucking creek to get to the next closest stall.

For a couple of the building that's not so bad, but for Mystern, who lives exactly in the middle of the two spare parking spot groups, and furthest you could be from the creek stalls, it's extremely annoying. It's not that he minds walking himself, but herding little D'ante (who is not quite 3) at 6:30 am is not the easiest thing to do. In addition, unlike Aunt Juicebox's place, there is no "two car" rule. That means if an apartment has 3 or more cars, it's all first come, first serve.

It was not long though before Mystern and Marque noticed the covered parking spaces (which all have apartment numbers) had two extra stalls because somebody miscounted whilst building the covered parking area. Thus, there are two unmarked parking stalls directly next to Mystern's stall. Since noticing this, Mystern and Marque have staked claim to these two (extremely convenient) stalls. You might ask what "stake claim" means. Well, 95% of the time Marque or Mystern occupies at least one of these stalls. In addition, he's completely honest about being a total douchebag himself when it comes to these stalls.

As an example, when Mystern comes home, both of the stalls will likely be unoccupied. He will take one, and when Marque arrives home, she will likely take the other, despite the marked stall they have. They do this for two reasons. First and foremost, the two of them often leave together during the evening, and don't know which car they will take. Thus, they want to be able to use the marked stall when they get back.

The second reason is a far more douchebaggerous reason. The people who otherwise park in those stalls do know in the slightest how to park. They always try to cram vehicles far larger than what would normally fit into these spaces. In addition, they simply do not know how to turn a vehicle well enough to not cause the tires of said vehicle to land on the line of the stall.

So it could be said that Marque and Mystern are complete douchebags when it comes to these parking stalls, but it's not that big of a deal since the house is a mere 2 months from completion.

Grow Old With Me

2010-04-18T14:10:00.000-06:00

Mystern is afraid of dying. Wait, let me rephrase. Mystern is afraid of nothingness. While he refuses to believe consciousness ceases to exist after death, he is afraid of the alternative.

It has been his long standing goal to achieve immortality with Marque. While it is often said in jest between the two of them, in heart they both know how serious it is. The idea of immortality appeals to Mystern for two reasons.

First, when one does not need to worry about death, one can take the amount of time it takes to enjoy every aspect of life. As much as it may ring as a cliche in popular culture, Mystern has read the Twilight series. Perhaps some of the things which most fascinate him about the vampires is how distinctly human they are. They have individual likes, and dislikes, beliefs and dreams, strengths and weaknesses. Mystern greatly admires Meyers' (haha, that was unintentional but awesome nonetheless) depiction of Edward's love for music. Mystern finds himself of the mind that it would only be when he has unlimited time that he could pursue his interests to the fullest extent.

Secondly, Mystern wants never to lose his love. It's a mushy, gushy romantic thing to talk about, but Mystern loves Marque more than anything. He would do anything to prevent that love from withering and dying. Upon death, Mystern does not want to lose his love. The fact that he would likely not care once he is dead has no impact whatsoever.

It's interesting to think though about growing old. It makes Mystern wonder if people can ever be truly ready to die when it happens. As much as he hates it, Mystern does indeed accept and even encourage the knowledge that life continues on, despite what may happen. This belief cannot help but beg the question asking when it ends, can you be ready?

While Mystern fears death, he does not fear growing old. With Marque beside him, he counts himself lucky to simply be alive, as long as she remains.

Sunday Playlist 4-18-10

2010-04-18T10:12:00.000-06:00

Well friendlies, for today's playlist I've got a super amazing mix of awesomeness. It's so awesome you might just go blind (10 points for anyone who catches that reference).

It's dance mix day today. I've gotten some songs Mystern likes listening to when he is in a car dancing mood. If you don't know what car dancing is, you should try it some time. Yes, I'm completely aware that sentence makes no sense in the form of continuity.

Anyway. Enjoy the music. Making another appearance today is Deadmau5, and the Faint. We also have some classics you might like, such as the Rolling Stones and White Town.

As a post script note, I might be changing to a monthly playlist, because looking back at the history here it looks as though perhaps 1/3 of these posts are Sunday Playlists, and they don't really count as posts. I'll keep you posted.

Re-routed

2010-04-17T15:14:00.003-06:00

It's Saturday morning. Mystern works on Saturdays, so he gets up at 6:15, takes a shower, puts on clothes and gets ready for work. Leaving for work about 2 minutes late (6:47) he gets in his car (which he thoughtfully parked in reverse in the parking stall the night before). As he begins to pull toward the parking lot exit he is stopped by a police officer placing traffic cones preventing him from exiting the parking lot. The officer signals for him to go back the other way, and take a different street. Beyond the officer, Mystern sees a few people walking down the middle of the street and a number of serious bikers going down the street as well.

Ah, he thinks, it must be the day of the marathon.

He heads out the (fortunately placed) other exit of the parking lot, and turns to head South. At the first major intersection there are more police forcing Mystern East. Only a little bit peeved, because it's only a little out of the way, he goes east, and then turns south again at the first possible opportunity.

Yet another police officer flags him down the blocks further and tells him to turn around.

. . .

In red, we have the marathon route (with the miles marked nicely). In green, we have Mystern's usual route to work (starting with the North end). Tell me friendlies, what's wrong with this picture, when every single road the marathon utilizes is blocked off?

Needless to say, Mystern was late for work, after needing to find a road with a bridge over the route.

Mystern has nothing against charities, or fundraisers for them. What Mystern does have issues with, is poor planning. This entire route blocks off (or inconveniences) a large portion of the city. As an example, let's take the apartment across the street from Mystern. Those poor saps don't even have a back entrance to escape the marathon route. Mystern needed to go four miles out of his way to get to the nearest freeway before he could jump over the route. While it's understandable that a Marathon needs to have a full distance, it makes no sense whatsoever to loop the entire thing about the city, and then fail to provide a way through to all of the people trapped in the bubble.

If that damn marathon is still going when Mystern starts delivering pizzas, he's gonna be mowing down some runners.

Now

2010-04-11T15:13:00.000-06:00

I'm not actually sure where to start this post. Today, Mystern was reading a post over at Moonspun's blog and it reminded him of the past.

From August 1999 to July 2000, Mystern was living in Denmark with his grandmother. His mother's side of the family has it's heritage in Denmark, and this has always been a point of pride for Mystern. As such, when his grandmother moved (back) to Denmark in 1998, it became only a matter of time until Mystern moved there to live.

He grew a lot while he lived there. Made friends, learned about life, grew nearly a foot, and overall grew up. He went to a small school, where grades 1 through 10 were taught, and lived half an hour from the small city of Skive.

It was a simple life, and Mystern learned to appreciate small things. He learned to appreciate secrets, and he learned to appreciate friendship. He also fell in love for the first time.

Her name was Tina, and by Mystern's eyes, she was beautiful. Perhaps it was the note she passed to him the first day he was in school, or perhaps the eventual friendship which grew between them. Perhaps even it was the simple fact that she took the time to speak English to Mystern. Whatever the cause of love, it had struck Mystern squarely.

He mentioned this to her only once, during the time he lived in Denmark, and then did not mention it as love, for he truly did not know what it was he felt. She rejected him, and while he was crushed, the friendship the two of them shared continued as strong as ever.

So it was that Mystern returned to the US in 2000, and a couple of years later she came to visit with the man who would later become her husband and give her two beautiful children. Again, Mystern felt the pangs of love at this time but denied this feeling.

A few years later, Mystern went through a life-altering seminar in which he discovered nothingness. Upon this discovery, he learned only by living in the present, and not the past, could he achieve results in life.

It took a bit of time for him to work through his past, and he finally realized his love for Tina, and how it affected his life now. And so it was that he spoke with Tina, explaining to her his once feelings, so he could gain closure on the issue. Once this had happened, he was able to move on with his life.

Mystern has learned from the whole experience exactly how much most people live in the past. We all know people who constantly seem to have the same experiences over and over. Despite how much they want things to change, they always end up in the same relationship, or the same job, or the same place they tried so hard to escape. It was after much thought about his own life that Mystern realized why this happens. It is only through letting go of what has happened, and accepting it, that one can change the present circumstances. By constantly thinking things should have happened differently, one will naturally attract the same circumstance. Continually stuck in the same cycle, which will always attract the same results because nothing from the beginning circumstances has changed. It's like math. By adding 1 and 1, you will always get 2. If you do not like the result of two, you need to find different numbers to add together.

It is only after accepting your life as it is, accepting that you cannot change the past, that you can create the present. Because it's not about changing how things are, it's about creating new circumstances.

One plus two after all, does not equal two.

Sunday Playlist 4-11-10

2010-04-11T13:22:00.001-06:00

Well friendlies. I'm working on a super kickass playlist for next week. For right now, since I did not actually follow Eryk's intent on suggestions for the playlist last week, I've gotten some specific songs he suggested. It's decently decent, though not entirely Mystern's taste :)

Glass in foot in mouth - Part Deux

2010-04-10T13:09:00.001-06:00

You all remember a couple weeks ago when Mystern cut up the bottom of his foot? Well friendlies, Mystern has been at it again with his foot.

It's Tuesday night, and it's D&D. At Gibbons' house the lot of D&D groupies are hanging out, having fun, drinking coffee and eating pizza. Mystern is DMing, and as such needs to continually hop over the fence (not actual fence) in front of the TV.

Jump.

Hop.

Skip.

Jump, CRASH!

As he jumps over the fence the top of his foot comes down squarely on top of the corner of the glass door of the entertainment center.

"Owwwww" Mystern complained as he collapsed into the chair next to the computer.

Laughing, everyone makes fun of him and the fact that this foot is the same one he cut earlier. Game continues, and ends. At the end of game, as Mystern is about to put on his shoes, he notices something on his sock. Blood.

Apparently, even though the glass was not sharp in the slightest, Mystern managed to scrape the skin off (through his sock) and his foot started bleeding. How attractive.

Sunday playlist 4-4-10

2010-04-04T11:24:00.001-06:00

Today's playlist comes from Mystern's friend Eryk. Eyrk is a sarcastic coworker who enjoys listening to metal music. He suggested a few bands to Mystern, and I've compiled some songs (one from each band) which he liked.

Just FYI this is what Eryk had to say on the matter:

[11:29:18 AM]Eryk: meh, #4 is ok, don't like the other 3

Nature of Reality, Part 4 - I think therefore I am, but how do I know you are?

2010-04-04T09:22:00.000-06:00

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3

It's been awhile since I've posted about the nature of the universe. I figured today, being Jesus day and whatnot would be a good opportunity to further our conversation about how the universe works (according to Mystern).

René Descartes was a philosopher who lived in the 17th century. He's most known for the quote: Je pense, donc je suis. Or, in English; I think, therefore I am.

Mystern has agreed with this statement for a number of years. The basic premise being the only thing one can be absolutely sure of is the existence of oneself. It has been suggested that cognitive thought develops throughout the early years of life, as the ego develops. By studying the very definition of the phrase "I" one begins to see that the only thing you will ever know for certain is the existence of thought.

This ties back in to the earlier posts. Quantum physics shows us that our thought/observation has a direct impact on the nature of the universe. When you consider this in conjunction with the idea that we can only ever be certain of our own thought process, you come to realize that by all expectations, we should be able to have complete and total control over the universe.

Thus we have arrived at an impasse. You see, while logically, we should have complete and total control over the actual physical nature of our universe we do not. This suggests the most poignant question - Why?

To suggest his own theory on the matter, Mystern would say the only possible thing which could prevent the altering of the universe would be an outside influence. In this case, you.

The idea of "you" arises in conjunction easily with that of "I". it would only make sense that there is something which exists that would need to be distinguished from the ego. It is because one cannot simply alter the universe at will that we know something other than "I" exists. Through interaction with other cognitive beings, who also inherently alter the universe through the very nature of existing, we can see our universe take shape.

As others interact with the universe they create waves of existence with which we therefore interact. To conceptualize this, imagine the universe as a pond. Each person in existence is a stone in that pond. If a pebble falls into the pond, it is expressed by the ripples it creates. As a ripple reaches a stone it bounces off, going to another stone, and so forth until the ripple dissolves entirely. After the first bounce, the ripple is no longer the same ripple it once was. And, after the second bounce the ripple changes again. Thus our actions in this universe are constantly altered by other consciousness.

It could be said our entire universe is one wave of probability interacting with another, extending all the way out until the outer curtain, where the universe does not exist beyond.

5 years and two

2010-04-03T08:48:00.000-06:00

About a week ago was Mystern's anniversary. He's been married to Marque two years, and has been with her for five. Yes, they got married on the anniversary of them getting together. Disgustingly romantic isn't it?

I light of the date, I thought I'd share a story about the relationship. This is the story of the third (and final) proposal for marriage.

On the twenty fifth of March, three years ago, Mystern had a plan. For almost a month beforehand he had been working with the jeweler to craft the perfect ring. He bought the stone, and the ring, then had to send them out to have the stone mounted.

When the day arrived, Mystern was in a panic. He had everything planned, but the ring was not scheduled to be returned for another week.

With nothing to be done, he simply moved forward, and decided that Marque would just need to wait to get her ring. They went to the Symphony, and then ate dinner at the Grand America Hotel and then took a carriage ride through the city.

Overall it was a romantic night and proposing would have been a great ending, but Marque would have suspected that, so Mystern didn't propose . . . That and the ring wasn't done.

A week later, the ring arrived. Mystern took off work early, and began preparations. He made cheese and sausage stuffed Mancotti, salad, and baked chicken. Overall the food turned out even better than when the two of them went out to the Grand America.

For dessert, Mystern went into the kitchen and pulled a plate out of the freezer. For a moment Marque simply though it was pretty sauce decoration on the plate with a chocolate cake on it. Then she realized the sauce spelled out the words "Will you marry me?"

It was not until that point she noticed what she had previously thought to be a heart shaped cake on the plate was actually made from chocolate. And the chocolate had a seam around the top. Opening the box that Mystern had custom made for the occasion, she found the ring which she had expected previously.

Happiness ensued.

It should be noted that of all the yummy dinner, the chocolate box actually tasted the best. And it was gone entirely before the night was out.

Sunday Playlist 3-28-10

2010-03-28T10:33:00.002-06:00

So, I feel I should explain why the Playlists have been sucking recently. Because Mystern has gotten an new (highly unsatisfactory) vehicle, which does not have a stereo, he has not been able to listen to as much music. As a consequence, I've not been able to put together songs he's liked because he's not listened to songs that he can like. Savvy?

But my dear friendlies, this week he's made a specifically specific point to listen to music so I can throw together a playlist for you. This week it has not real central theme, even though I did have it in mind to have some awesome rock/club music, but only had two songs for that idear. That'll have to wait I suppose. In addition, I think I've gotten a couple songs today which have been on previous playlists, but I'm sure you don't mind.

As a final note, I'm going to be possibly outsourcing the Sunday Playlist to expose you all to a more varied taste in music. While Mystern likes a wide variety, his usual listening tastes tend toward more of the same.

Rat dogs and Badass Geeks

2010-03-27T09:44:00.004-06:00

I'm wondering if Mystern stops working on the weekends what this blog will look like. He currently has a shift bid going on at his work and is going for a non-weekend shift. Perhaps at that point I'll begin posting more during the week?

Anywhodles. The other day Mystern was delivering some pizzas and had agreed to deliver one slightly outside of his area. He gets out of the car, delivers a pizza and begins walking back to his car when a little rat of a dog comes up and barks at him.

Now, typically, Mystern is nervous of dogs. About 6 months ago he was attacked by 5 large dogs. But when it comes to little rat dogs he figures if they attack him he can drop kick them over a house.

Preparing for said kick, Mystern noticed the owner of rat dog whistling for the dog to come away from the scary Mystern.

Looking up, he saw a man of about his own age scoop up the rat dog and as Mystern was walking back to the car, the owner of the dog knocked on his window where his wife came to the window, opened it and took the dog inside.

"That's convenient," Mystern said.

"Sure is," the man replied laughing.

A little bit confused, and more than a little amused at the whole situation Mystern continued on his way, somehow reminded of his friend the Badass Geek.

Sunday Playlist 3-21-10

2010-03-21T15:09:00.000-06:00

I'm kind of posting a cop out post today. This is not a playlist Mystern has created specifically for the Sunday Playlist series. Instead, I'm just going to tell you a little bit of how much of a geek Mystern is.

Mystern has been playing Dungeons and Dragons for the past few years (with Gibbons, Bertrand and Gallenson off and on). He currently plays every Tuesday evening, and the first Sunday of each month.

Right now, Mystern is DMing and as such it's his job to create the "atmosphere" of the game. He's compiled a list of music that he uses for combat settings to get the players involved.

Penalized success

2010-03-20T11:59:00.000-06:00

I've been trying to think about some things to write, and have been coming up blank. Fortunately, Mystern got an email today reminding me of something that's been frustrating him recently. Yes, it's a Saturday. I know, I'm a weekend poster.

Mystern started working for eBay in June of 2008. At the time, eBay didn't really know what they wanted to do with the department Mystern was hired for, consequently he was shuffled around quite a bit. And by shuffled around I mean he was cross trained. And by cross trained I mean he went through at least 10 different repetitive trainings. As such, his knowledge of the eBay site is very, very extensive. Despite this, Mystern felt he wanted to know more how the system worked, so he decided to start buying and selling on eBay.

In November of 2008 Mystern got back in touch with Chris, a guy he had known from high school. At the time, Chris was living in NYC, and looking for a way to make some extra cash. Since Chris lived just a couple of blocks away from the Nintendo store, and Wii's were selling for much higher than retail on eBay, Mystern invited to go into business with Chris. Mystern would handle all CS and eBay listing, and Chris would buy and ship the products.

This worked well and they both made a bit of money until mid January when the sales dropped off entirely. In their search for a new product, they turned to shoes. Collectible Nike shoes.

Over the course of the year the business grew, until the two of them were consistently grossing over 10,000 monthly, which was hardly any in profit, but nevertheless was better than nothing.

In March of 2009, eBay decided to hold a contest company-wide for selling and buying on the site. Through the 3 months of the contest, Mystern came in 4th place in the company, and first on his team. He won some money, and was overall quite proud of himself.

Thus it was, when he heard of his department having a similar contest, he was quite excited again. His work of selling on eBay would be rewarded again!

Until the meeting where they officially announced that the department could participate in the contest. Except for Mystern. Specifically excluding Mystern. Because to include Mystern would make it unfair.

Now, here's the thing. Mystern started selling on the site to get a better understanding of how it worked, and just happened to be successful. Thus, because of his success, he was penalized and not able to participate at all. As a matter of fact, he was the only member of the department to be excluded from the contest.

Honestly, he has but two words to say to the entire situation:

Fuck that.

Sunday Playlist 3-14-10

2010-03-14T13:12:00.000-06:00

For the first time in Mystern's life, he forgot it was daylight savings today. Typically, this would not be a big deal, except he works on Sundays. Moving on from that tangent, today's playlist contains only two songs, and it comes with a story. Don't you feel special!

Marque and Mystern met shortly before Valentines day in 2005. Believe it or not, they actually met on Myspace. At the time, Mystern was living with his grandmother, had no job and no car. He was in every sense of the word, a loser. This changed, as you can see from this blog, but when Marque and Mystern met and Mystern asked her out on the first date, he also asked her to drive. I'll give you some more stories about Mystern's early relationship later, but for now, here are two songs about what Mystern once was, and is no longer.

Seal training = glass in foot

2010-03-13T09:21:00.000-07:00

So, I've decided that I'm a weekend blogger. I'm not sure why this is, considering all of the blogs I follow seem to post things during the week. It seems to me though that I post mostly on Friday, Saturday and Sunday.

Anywho, Mystern has recently been going to the gym with Bertrand. Bertrand got it in his mind a couple of weeks ago that he wants to go into the Navy Seal program, and as such wants to train his body so he will be able to pass all the initial tests. Since Bertrand doesn't really have a gym buddy other than Mystern, he called Mystern up and asked him to start back at the gym. Of course, since Mystern is trying to lose weight he agreed.

Mystern is incredibly out of shape right now, due to his lack of fitness routine for the past year or so. Of the requirements for passing the test to join the Seals, Mystern would only pass the running, and the pushups . . . barely. That means that Mystern can run 1.5 miles in 15 minutes, and do 40 pushups in 2 minutes. He cannot do 40 situps in 2 minutes, nor can he perform 4 dead hang pullups. However, despite these challenges, the most difficult test for him is the swimming. Mystern knows how to swim, but has never been an overly strong swimmer. Part of the seal test is swimming 500 yards in under 15 minutes. That's the length of five full football fields.

To put this into perspective, yesterday - for the first time in Mystern's life - he was able to swim the full length of a 50 meter pool without once touching the bottom. That's exactly how not-strong of a swimmer Mystern is. Nevertheless, Mystern is continuing to push himself into proper form. That is until last Thursday.

As he was swimming through the pool, his foot came down on what felt like a sharp rock. He looked around the rock for a moment then pulled his foot up to inspect the damage. Bertrand came down and used his goggles to find said rock, only to discover that it was a piece of glass, not a rock in the slightest. In addition, said glass had cut into Mystern's foot and he was now leaking blood into the pool. So he got out, went to the shower (trailing blood the entire way) and rinsed off the wound, only to find the blood free-flowing and not really wanting to stop. After discovering this fact, he went to the management, asked for a few bandages, and bandaged his foot with four band aids.

These four band aids were quickly soaked through completely, and Mystern was trailing blood again. Unfortunately, he did not have any additional medical supplies anywhere but home.

The wound didn't require stitches, but seriously WTF! How the fuck does broken glass get into a fucking gym swimming pool? Yeah, weird right?

External Rendering

2010-03-08T13:11:00.000-07:00

So my dear friendlies, things are coming together nicely. Due almost exclusively to Marque's amazing financial prowess (and somehow managing to pay out more money that they have coming in [perhaps she's giving hand jobs on the side?]), she and Mystern have managed to get everything in line to purchase the house.

To give you all a quick timeline, here's what's happened so far.

10-2009 Marque and Mystern begin working with a mortgage broker to buy a house.
10-2009 Marque and Mystern find the house they want, put down a reservation deposit
11-2009 Marque and Mystern realize the house they want is way outside their price range, and lots of work needs done to have them qualify for the mortgage.
12-2009 Mystern finds much cheaper house, calls real estate agent.
1-2010 Real estate agent informs them the house was sold 3 days before Mystern found the house.
1-2010 Marque and Mystern decide they're simply going to go for their dream house and consequences be damned, place reservation on lot.
1-2010 Marque and Mystern sign contract to buy house, have 10 days to come up with $2000 for construction deposit.
2-2010 Marque and Mystern put down $2200 construction deposit. $2700 now becomes non-refundable.
2-2010 Marque and Mystern are informed by mortgage broker there is a snowballs chance in hell the mortgage will be approved, they need to pay off $15000 in debt before the bank will approve loan. This is all debt except 1 car and 1 credit card.
2-2010 Builder agrees to delay closing on home by 1 month, allowing time to pay off debt.
2-2010 Mystern arranges to sell back his car to pay down debt, is informed he will take a minimum $2000 loss on the transaction.
2-2010 Mystern sells back car.
3-2010 Hell freezes over, snowball survives, $8000 of debt is paid off and $2000 is paid off to car dealership to take Mystern's car. Debt has been paid off before construction has even begun on house. Mystern gives the go-ahead to build and not bother delaying 1 month.

So that's where we're at now. As promised, I've now gotten pictures of the outside of the house, so I'm posting them. These are also the actual color schemes. As a side note, when the house first went to the HOA for approval, they declined saying it looked too similar to a house down the street. To fix the problem, the architects decided to simply add a $3000 balcony to the house for free. Cha-ching!

Death of The Beast OR Don't Ask, Don't Tell

2010-03-07T10:45:00.001-07:00

The Beast is gone. Anguish fills the soul of Mystern, to have been required to return the beast to his home. Alas, his 2010 Mazda 6 is gone, to be replaced by a 2000 Mitsubishi Eclipse GT. The Eclipse needs a little bit of work done, but nothing too outstanding. It's a decent little car overall, but not nearly as fun as the beast was, at least that's what Mystern thinks.

So, two days before Mystern was due to return the car, he was driving it trying to find a gas station and turned down a residential street. He decided to flip a bitch and while doing so, hit a curb. Mystern is typically a very good driver, having only hit a couple of curbs his entire life, but this particular time the curb decided to leave a nice nasty patch on the front bumper. Mystern gets out and inspects the damage, and thinks it sucks that he's going to need to pay a couple hundred dollars to re-paint the bumper, because obviously it needs to be done if the car is to be re-sold.

So he gets back in and begins driving home, and suddenly the front of the car starts making a weird noise. Mystern pays it little mind until it becomes too loud to ignore. So he gets out and inspects the front of the car again. Yeah, the damage is a little more extensive than previously thought.

So, new cars are awesome. If you've never owned a brand new car you don't know how awesomely awesome they are. So awesome in facto, as to add a whole bunch of ~~fucking retarded~~ ~~useless~~ ~~unnecessary~~ awesome parts. The bottom of the beast has a hard plastic cover on the entire belly of the car. I suppose this is to ~~destroy the environment~~ reduce road noise and ~~add cost~~ protect damage to the car. Unfortunately, when the bumper hit against the curb it bent and popped the screws out of place holding one part of this plastic shell. As such, it had begun to drag along the road while Mystern was driving.

So Mystern rigs it back into place, and puts the screws back into the proper holes (that's what she said!), and begins driving again. After about 500 meters there is a thunk and the noise starts up again.

So Mystern simply thinks there's nothing to be done about it (having already rigged it once) and continues driving.

. . .
Scrape-budududududu-scraaaaaaaaape
. . .

When Mystern is finally only 3 blocks from home, turning left onto the home stretch, there is a loud thud as the wheel catches on the shell and rips it off completely. Knowing exactly what has just happened as he drives over the shell and continues on his way home, Mystern thinks it's unfortunate he's now going to need to pay for a new shell piece.

And so he drives home, inspects the damage again, and goes inside.

. . .
Two days later, he drives the car to the dealership and leaves it to be sent to auction.
. . .
Two more days pass, and Big J (Mystern's brother) calls Mystern from the dealership to inform him the car did not sell at auction and Mystern will need to take the $2000 hit on the car and sell it back to the dealership and to come in and sign some paperwork.

"Oh yeah," Big J says, "the auction put a huge scrape in your bumper."

"What?" Mystern says.

"Yeah, those jackasses hit a bump or something and scraped the front of the bumper, because I know that wasn't there when it was sent to auction. Your car was immaculate."

"Wow, that's weird, so how much is it going to cost to fix?"

"Estimate was $239, but don't worry about that, the auction is paying for it."

"Oh ok, that's good."

Hey, even the military has a "Don't ask, don't tell" policy.

Sunday Playlist 3-7-10

2010-03-07T08:27:00.003-07:00

Hello readers! That seems like a . . . normal word for you doesn't it? I need to think of something other than the generic "readers" to distinguish you from myself . . .
I'll have to think on that.

Anyway! Moving past the tangent, I've decided to do something a little different for today's playlist. As you might have guessed from previous playlists, The Postal Service is one of Mystern's favorite artists. As such, instead of giving you a standard playlist, I've linked you to a folder in Mystern's SkyDrive, which has the entire first album from The Postal Service. Feel free to download and share with your friends.

Click here for awesomeness!

EDIT: It looks like I've never actually mentioned The Postal Service in any previous posts. Great band, check them out.

Is that high?

2010-03-05T14:13:00.001-07:00

So, I think apologies are in order here. I've noticed that more and more people are reading this blog, and as such I really should be writing more. I'm not entirely sure what it is recently. The more readers I get the more reluctant I am to share about Mystern's life. Perhaps it's due to the mundaneness of it. Mystern lives a relatively normal life, other than being favored greatly by the universe. Perhaps it's because all of the blogs Mystern reads (which can be found to the right over there -> ) are constantly talking about how life continually shits on them, and I don't want to make people feel bad about Mystern's awesome life. Whatever the reason, this week I've not only not written anything for almost a full week, but I skipped the cardinal post of the Sunday Playlist. So my friends, I'm sorry, and I'll post more this week. In the meanwhile, for all of you who just read this in your RSS reader, I'd like to say that you're not getting the full effect of the Sunday Playlists, considering that you can't listen to the awesome music without actually coming to the blog and clicking on the embedded player.

Just sayin . . .

So . . . Marque and Mystern fight a constant battle over the thermostat. Mystern's always had a fairly low metabolic rate but extremely good blood circulation. This means that he's rarely cold, and when he is cold it's not too difficult to get him back into the warm zone. This also means that Mystern will constantly turn off the heater (or at least turn down the temperature). This annoys Marque greatly because she is constantly cold.

Since Mystern's an agreeable fellow, he'll simply not bother mentioning that Marque is keeping the apartment much the same temperature as a tropical rain forest, and just tries to avoid the direct path of the heating elements.

Until that is, Marque gets the bill for the gas.

"I got the gas bill," She says.

"Oh?" Mystern replies.

"Yeah, it's 90 bucks."

Confused as to why Marque would bother telling him this, he responds, "Is that high?"

Now, for those of you who don't live in an apartment with less than 1000 square feet, yes ninety dollars for the gas bill is high.

I bet you can't guess who wears the pants in this family?

hCG -ing it up OR Mystern wants Pizza

2010-02-27T10:10:00.001-07:00

So, about a week ago Marque comes to Mystern and says, "Do you mind if I go on the hCG diet? It's like eighty bucks."

To which he replied, "Sure, but I don't think you really need it."

And so it was put out of her mind for a day and a half, until she came up to Mystern again and was like "I'm going to get the hCG stuff."

And Mystern said, "Ok, that's fine."

And then it arrived. Suddenly, on a whim, Mystern finds himself taking the drops along with his wifey. I suppose these things happen.

So, for those of you who don't follow trends in popular culture regarding dieting, let me ~~copy Wikipedia~~ explain a little bit of what hCG is supposed to do.

Human chorionic gonadotropin hCG) is a glycoprotein hormone produced in pregnancy that is made by the developing embryo soon after conception and later by the syncytiotrophoblast (part of the placenta). Its role is to prevent the disintegration of the corpus luteum of the ovary and thereby maintain progesterone production that is critical for a pregnancy in humans.

Pretty awesome huh? Mystern is giving himself a chemical that women have when they get preggo! Here's how it ~~causes~~ relates to weight loss.

A controversial usage of hCG is as an adjunct to the British endocrinologist A.T.W. Simeons' ultra-low-calorie weight-loss diet. Simeons, while studying pregnant women in India on a calorie-deficient diet, and “fat boys” with pituitary problems treated with low-dose hCG, discovered that both lost fat rather than lean (muscle) tissue. He reasoned that hCG must be programming the hypothalamus to do this in the former cases in order to protect the developing fetus by promoting mobilization and consumption of abnormal, excessive adipose deposits. Simeons, practicing at Salvator Mundi International Hospital in Rome, Italy, recommended low-dose daily hCG injections (125 mg) in combination with a customized ultra-low-calorie (500 cal/day, high-protein, low-carbohydrate/fat) diet loss of adipose tissue without loss of lean tissue. After Simeons’ death, the diet started to spread to specialized centers and via popularization by such as the author Kevin Trudeau, a specialist in promotion.

So, essentially, Mystern and Marque have relegated themselves to a 500 calorie diet daily. Sound ~~unhealthy~~ effective? It is. Supposedly the chemical mobilizes the fat and forces your body to use that instead of muscle tissue.

So, for the first two days, it's encouraged that one eats as much as s/he possibly can (since the chemical takes 72 hours to get into the system), to help with the hunger that will follow after being relegated to a low calorie diet. So Marque and Mystern went to the store, and stocked up on far more unhealthy food than they could eat in 2 days. So much so that Mystern (who leads a relatively healthy lifestyle), was literally sick of the food he was eating. Never before has Mystern gotten to the point that he simply did not want to eat anymore. I mean, we're talking about a guy who is 6'3" and weighs 255 lbs.

After achieving this momentous feat, Mystern has now started the 500 ca/day diet. Since, Mystern has started noticing that he wants his greasy, sweet, yummy food back. You see, Mystern works now as a part time job for Dominos. And it may sound like something a 2nd grader might say, but Pizza is Mystern's favorite food. Yummy, nummy, delicious, greasy, unhealthy, cheesy, ooey-gooey, pizza. And it completely sucks, only being allowed 100 grams of meat, and 1 handful of vegetables and 1 fruit and 1 solitary piece of Melba toast.

As of right now, he's still trying to figure out how to make pizza out of said Melba toast. Perhaps he'll mash up the spinach into a paste for the sauce and put some oregano and some other yummy spices into it and cook some chicken on top of it and maybe it'll be like pizza? Hopefully? Please?

In other news, Mystern wants some ice cream too.

Mystern's plights of politeness.

2010-02-23T16:42:00.002-07:00

As you all know, Mystern works at eBay.

As part of working at eBay, Mystern gets to answer emails from customers. Typically in these cases, he's resigned to simply answering the question at hand, and moving on with his life. Occasionally though, he begins writing and something like this comes out:

Dear eBay Member,

Thank you for writing eBay in regard to closing your eBay account.

While it frustrates me extremely to take time out of my busy day to answer insignificant emails such as this, I've decided to set aside the aggravation you are causing me by even bothering to inform us you are closing your account and answer your question. I'd like to first express exactly how little the $50-75 dollars you pay us monthly means to a Fortune 500 company. In truth (and this may come as a surprise to you), the paltry amount you pay us monthly does not even cover the amount of money we pay out dealing with your poor customer service to your own customers.

You see, when it comes to a company as large as eBay, it all comes down to what makes sense. Unfortunately, your account is below standard because the very high expectations we set for sellers on the site. The expectations are a direct result of market research into e-commerce. What your large ego, and small brain fail to realize is when a buyer has a bad experience on eBay, they don't return to the eBay site. As a service company, it makes far more sense to make sure buyers have a good experience, than sellers.

But I digress . . .

In your email you mention buyers rule the seller, and that our changes to the eBay site force sellers to "kiss their ass" and to "reduce [shipping] charges so low" that you cannot pay our "aggressive and sometimes greedy charges." Oh my dear seller! How it pains me to give you a lecture in business. However, due to my extremely giving nature, I've decided to take some additional time on this already too time consuming email to explain basic business strategy. Let me first say that fees, as well as shipping costs, are combined in the business world into a term called "overhead." Overhead is essentially all of the costs associated with running a business. All business have overhead, and this amount is traditionally paid via something called "profit." While you may be unfamiliar with the term, "profit" is the difference between the cost of procuring your item, and the price at which you sell it. In a traditional business model, one would increase the profit one has to pay the overhead. This is typically done by raising prices, or by cutting costs. Either method can be extremely effective. Though in your case I should say your decision to close the business should also be extremely effective.

In closing, I'd again like to express how little your business means to us, considering the costs of bringing you the privilege of reaching eighty million customers world wide. We are not sorry to see you go, and would love to see you back in the future when you have learned the basics of owning a business, as well as the importance of excellent service to the one who actually pays for services, your customer.

Thanks again for writing.

Sincerely,
Mystern

eBay Customer Support

Unfortunately it's not actually encouraged to send email like these to customers. Therefore, Mystern has been relegated to sending emails such as the following:

Dear eBay Member,

Thank you for writing eBay in regard to closing your eBay account.

I'm sorry to hear that you have decided to close your selling account. The frustrations you have expressed in your email are indeed valid points, and I've taken the time to answer each of your questions below.

Firstly, let me begin by saying that eBay is not for everyone. If, over the course of your business dealings, you have found that eBay is not a viable source of profit for you, then we will be sorry to see you go. Ultimately you must do what makes sense for your business, and we do not begrudge you in any way for wanting to use your time wisely.

With regards to our policies regarding buyer satisfaction you have expressed that buyers rule and sellers cannot make a profit. Yes, the bar is set extremely high for sellers on eBay. The reasons for this are many, but it comes down mainly to customer satisfaction. You see, when a buyer has a bad experience on eBay, it's not just the seller the buyer will no longer shop with, it's the entire site. As an e-commerce site, our service to you is bringing you buyers.

Every business has frustrating customers, and selling on eBay is no exception. It's understandable, and completely expected that you will occasionally find an unreasonable buyer - someone whom you simply cannot please. These situations happen, and your business is defined by how you deal with them. In the thousands of sellers I've spoken with throughout my time working for eBay, I've found the most successful are the ones who do the most to please the customer. If your buyer feels your shipping charges are too expensive, it makes sense to take a hit and lower them in a single instance. While it's perfectly understandable to not do this in every circumstance, sometimes for the greater good of the business you must sacrifice the profit you would otherwise have made. This scenario is true under all business models, e-commerce or otherwise.

Lastly, with regards to your comments regarding the fees associated with selling on eBay, I'd like to take a moment to explain why eBay fees exist. As I've explained earlier in this email, our job as a company is providing sellers (like yourself) with customers. Part of this process is paying the overhead you otherwise would pay as an independent seller. We provide extensive advertising, as well as customer support for your buyers, and customer support for yourself regarding your business. Fees exist to pay for these services we provide. In the market of e-commerce, these indeed are valuable services, however, you must always make informed decisions about your business yourself.

I hope I've answered all of your questions, and If I have not please feel free to reply to this email. We are sorry to see you go, and hope that in the future you will make the decision to sell again on eBay.

Thanks again for writing.

Sincerely,
Mystern

eBay Customer Support

What do you think interwebs? Do you have any opinion on dealing with difficult customers and what you would like to say to them?

Sunday Playlist 2-21-10

2010-02-21T09:24:00.001-07:00

For this week's playlist, I've taken 8 random songs from Mystern's iPod. It's kind of without any central theme, but I suppose that's the point?

So yeah, you remember that house?

2010-02-19T09:39:00.002-07:00

You know the one. That's right, the house mentioned here.

Anyway, I just wanted to give you an update on how things are going for Mystern. So, right now everything is going swimmingly (I just love that word). All the finances work out, with Mystern picking up a second job delivering pizza; it looks like the insurmountable goal of paying off 15 thousand dollars of debt is being surmounted (you like how I used a semi-colon in that sentence, I know you do).

Although, the ~~small~~ large caveat to paying off this debt is that some of it actually isn't being paid off. Mystern is selling the beast. It's causing him a great deal of pain to think about this, but it needs to be done. The simple fact of the matter is the beast is the only thing holding Mystern back from getting the house.

So, you might ask what's required to sell a 2010 car when no market data on the worth of said car. That's an excellent question, and one that I couldn't answer if Mystern's brother didn't work for a dealership. The truth of the matter is, Mystern is taking a $1500 hit and selling it back to the dealership because it would be damn near impossible to get the same amount of money anywhere else. But then again, Mystern is happy with having a house instead of a car, even if it means taking a fifteen hundred dollar straight up loss.

Aside from that, Marque and Mystern will be ready to close on their happy new home in the middle of March, well before the required closing date.

Douche-Nozzle and the Spendy Tomatoes

2010-02-17T12:58:00.001-07:00

They say the two things in life which are certain are death and taxes. Mystern went to file his preliminary taxes a month ago, mainly to get most of the work done for when he finishes the process in February. While he was there, his tummy grumbling mightily, he decided to get a sandwich from a nearby Subway, while Marque was finishing up her time with the Tax Man.

So he walks in to the Subway, and is greeted by the clerk on duty, whom (for reasons which shall shortly become apparent) I shall refer to as Douche-Nozzle.

Mystern: "Hi, I'd like to get a . . . foot long meatball sub on wheat bread please."

Douche-Nozzle: "We don't have any wheat right now."

Mystern: "Ok, what do you have then?"

Douche-Nozzle: "We have white, and Italian Herbs and Cheddar"

Mystern: "Hmm . . . Ok, go with the Italian Herbs."

Douche-Nozzle begins making the sandwich: "Would you like cheese on that?"

Mystern: "Yes, provolone please, and I believe you're supposed to have 8 meatballs on the sandwich?"

Douche-Nozzle: "There are 8 meatballs on the sandwich."

Mystern: "Um, no?"

Douche-Nozzle begins counting the meatballs, and adds another meatball without a word and moves the sandwich to the vegetables.

Mystern: "I'd like lots of tomatoes. Tomatoes are the only veggie I want on the sandwich so I'd like a lot of them."

Douche-Nozzle places 6 (the standard subway amount) tomatoes on the sandwich.

Mystern: "Um, more tomatoes please."

Douche-Nozzle places two more tomatoes on the sandwich.

Mystern: "Yeah, I want lots and lots of tomatoes on the sandwich."

Douche-Nozzle places two more on the sandwich.

Mystern: "Keep going."

Douche-Nozzle places two more on the sandwich and says: I can't put any more tomatoes on the sandwich, you already have double.

Mystern: "You're joking? You won't put any more tomatoes on the sandwich?"

Douche-Nozzle: "If you want more tomatoes I'll have to charge you extra."

Mystern: "Fuck that. That's completely ridiculous. You won't put more than 12 slices of tomato on a foot-long sandwich. Does Jack Bickmore still own this Subway? And you're the manager?" (Mystern knows this because he used to work for another subway Jack owns)

Douche-Nozzle nods to both questions.

Mystern: "Good, I'll be giving him a call."

* * *
Intermission . . .
* * *

Part Deux

So the other day, Mystern and Marque go to finish up their taxes. At the end, Bobbi the tax lady asks Mystern to leave the building so Marque can tell her his surprise for V-Day. Mystern obliges and walks across the parking lot to the Subway. Upon entering, he sees his nemesis, Douche-Nozzle.

Deciding to play the Douche's game, Mystern goes and orders a foot-long on wheat with provolone. Upon reaching the tomatoes Mystern says: "I'd like extra tomatoes on this sandwich."

Douche-Nozzle places 3 more tomatoes on the sandwich.

Mystern: "No, I'd like a little more tomatoes on the sandwich."

Giving Mystern a dirty look, Douche-Nozzle places 2 more tomatoes on the sandwich.

Mystern: "No, I'd actually like double the amount of tomatoes you normally put on a sandwich."

Douche-Nozzle: "That is double."

Mystern: "Really? How many tomatoes go on a standard foot-long?"

Douche-Nozzle: "Six."

Mystern: "And how many are on there?"

Douche-Nozzle: "Twelve."

(Did you all count the tomatoes as they went on the sandwich? Mystern did.)

Mystern: "Really? Would you mind counting them for me?"

Douche-Nozzle counts the ~~twelve~~ eleven tomatoes on the sandwich under his breath.

Mystern: "May I have another tomato on the sandwich please?"

Douche-Nozzle throws another tomato on the sandwich with an evil gleam in his eye.

Mystern smiles icily and pays for his sandwich and eats it at a table. And leaves his wrapper and a general mess all over the table, knowing Douche-Nozzle is the only one working right now.

Revenge is sweet.

Sunday Playlist 2-14-10

2010-02-14T09:50:00.000-07:00

I know. It's been a week since my last post. It's not that Mystern hasn't had anything going in his life, it's just that I've not had the time to post. I've got thoughts percolating about his life regarding tomatoes, jobs and the beast, but I'll have to post about those this week.

Anywho, for this week's playlist Mystern has been enjoying some techno beats while at his new job. I've decided to give a few words on some of the songs, because they're worth the time it'll take to write them. Also, I think I'm going to need to start buying these songs, because yet again, at least two of the songs Mystern has liked this week were unable to be found on playlist.com.

First, I'd like to call out the 5th song. It's absolutely worth a listen. If you get sick of the intro, just skip to the 2:30 mark. The words are awesomely vulgar and explicit. Mystern has a growing fondness for Deadmau5 because of the phenomenal beats.

Secondly, I'd like to call out the last song. I can't believe I've neglected to mention the Barcode Brothers before now. the barcode Brothers have played a huge part in Mystern's musical tastes, and this song especially. Definitely worth a listen.

Sunday Playlist 2-7-10

2010-02-07T08:57:00.002-07:00

So Mystern started his second job last night. Delivering pizza while blasting the stereo is incredibly fun apparently.

Anywho, here's some of the random music that's popped up on the Mystern's radar this week.

The Whatnot to Post

2010-02-05T11:23:00.002-07:00

Hello my phenomenal lack of readers! It's Len here, writing to you direct, because Google analytics shows that nobody reads this anyway.

I can't decide if I find it sad, or amusing that nobody wants to hear about Mystern's life. Recently, perhaps because of my lack of readership, I've not really been able to build up the something to make a blog post. Looking back, it seems like I post about Mystern's life on average 3 times a week, not including Sunday playlists. Upon closer inspection however, it seems as though my posts are about as boring and mundane as any other blog in existence, which explains why nobody bothers reading what I have to say.

I've pondered this matter, trying to come up with a solution, looking back at the traditional history of visits to this blog. I have noticed more readers on days when Mystern comments on other blogs. Perhaps I'll suggest to him to do that more often. I've also thought of the one and only day where Mystern had a visit linked directly from a search engine, which was the day he divulged his status as a swinger. Perhaps I'll suggest to him starting a blog to chronicle his adventures in sex, so people will find that blog and be linked to this one.

But really, it all comes down to why. Why is it so important to me that I have readers of this blog? As a blog, shouldn't I simply post because I want to, not necessarily because I want people to read it? After all, readers will read, writers will write, and the world moves on. Of all the words written in existence, only a select few are ever read by a great many people. Perchance I and the other blogs who are lacking the whatnot to post right now have been going about this the wrong way. It's possibly possible that we've been caught up in the fervor of blogging for others, instead of blogging for ourselves.

I, and Mystern, are writers at heart. We love to write, but only under the circumstances that exist which push our words to paper for the single most important cause in history. That of writing itself.

After all, it's like Mystern has said since forever ago, "I find it amusing that others try to interpret great writings. I've a sneaking suspicion that great writers write for themselves, and let the world be damned. Get what you will out of my writing, for that's your message; I've already gotten what I needed by writing it in the first place."

Sunday Playlist 1-31-10

2010-01-31T12:36:00.002-07:00

Growing up in the family in which he was raised, Mystern was not taught not to judge by a person's skin color. Point of fact, Mystern did not know the difference between a black, and a white person until he was nine years old. This is not, as you might think, because the black population in SLC is less than 2%. It's simply that he was never taught there was a difference.

So it came as no surprise to anyone in his family when Mystern married a beautiful black woman. Because of this, he often jokes that he's allowed to use racial slurs, because he has a pass card.

That being said, being married to a black person often has peculiar influences on your life. In the case of Mystern, Marque has gradually pushed his musical tastes toward more mainstream hip-hop. Even though Marque and Mystern have wildly different tastes in music, Mystern has come to appreciate the type of music his love listens to, and has developed his own tastes in this genre. So much so, that he occasionally craves said music. So, without further ado, Sunday Playlist 1-31-10 - Hip-Hop Edition.

As a disclaimer every single one of these songs is currently on Mystern's iPod.

And that's when I realized.

2010-01-30T16:30:00.000-07:00

The key slides effortlessly into the deadbolt with minor clicking sounds. As the tall man turns the brass doorknob he kicks the door slightly to push it open from the molding that always sticks. He takes off his bag and hangs it on the coat hanger along with his keys. "ROOOOAAAAARRRR!" he yells as he turns toward the apartment.

Squealing and laughing greets him as the patter of tiny size 2 footsteps run towards him. Little D'ante runs up to give his daddy a hug, as Marque exits the kitchen. After roaring little D'ante away playfully, Mystern catches sight of his bride. As always, his breath catches at the beauty his efforts have landed him. Dressed simply in a black dress with sparkles adorning the cleavage Marque smiles broadly.

Mystern instantly and reactively gives his wife elevator eyes, as she walks over to kiss him hello after a long day at work. She's wearing her thigh high neon green and black socks at which he smiles as their lips meet. It goes unsaid with the new jobs Mystern is working in addition to eBay that these moments will soon become rare. Laughing, Marque allows herself to be pushed away by the little man so wanting his father's attention.

Lifting his hands up, Mr. D'ante requests his father hold him, which Mystern obliges easily. Dancing to the music Marque has playing, Mystern watches her walk into the bedroom and follows her with D'ante in his arms. She's folding laundry. One of the many small and meaningful things she does for Mystern, which would never get done were it left to him. Putting D'ante down, he walks to his bride and wraps his arms around her waist and she steps in toward him to give a hug and kiss.

Exchanging pleasantries, the two of them catch up as Mystern chases the little boy around the room. Taking D'ante's arms, Mystern places him sitting on his foot, and begins to walk around, swinging his foot wide as D'ante squeals with pleasure. Marque smiles at the two of them playing as Mystern switches D'ante to his back, and seeing Marque watching them, charges her as they all laugh falling onto the bed.

It's then that Mystern realizes that no matter what happens, everything is going to be all right, because all he ever needs is right here beside him.

A short post from Mystern

2010-01-28T14:12:00.001-07:00

I'm taking a small break right now from having the blog posts about my life written in the third person. I'm doing this for two reasons. A) It's fucking exhausting; and B) I really need to get some shit off my chest and I can't seem to find the words written in the third party form.

So, here we are. I don't even know if anyone reads this blog, because I have suspicions that the few visits I get according to Google Analytics are really me. I've not yet found a way to exclude certain IP addys from the report. As soon as I do know how to do this, I'll have a more accurate count of people who actually read this shit.

If you have been reading this, you'll know that the missus and I are in the process of buying our very first home. A few weeks ago, we needed to come up with two thousand dollars in the form of a construction deposit so the construction process can begin. We had 10 days to accomplish this feat, and managed, somehow to do so. We've given the money over to the housebuilding company, and now it's non-refundable.

After this fact, I was talking to our mortgage broker, and suddenly, there's a problem. While he had alluded to this before now, he had never explicitly told us how things work. So, here's a few numbers for you.

As of right now, before we have purchased the house, we pay out 54% of our monthly income to debt related bills (i.e. car loan, credit cards, that fucking vacuum), plus our rent. The bank won't give us a loan unless this figure (with the house payment replacing the rent) is less than 45%. So, despite the fact that Marque and I live over that threshold comfortably, the bank wants us to be paying out less per month after we buy the house. Not sure how this makes sense, but that's what the bank wants, and we only found this out after we had put down the construction deposit. What this means in practical terms, is we need to pay off almost all of our debt and I need a really good explanation as to why they should give me a loan at 47% (which is what I would be at assuming all the debt is paid off). For the explanation, I'm going to pick up another job. But for the debt paying off, I need 15 grand as quickly as possible. I'm considering becoming a gay porn actor, as I've heard they make good money, and I don't mind going gay for pay, but I'd rather not. Whatever is done, it needs to happen quick, because having this hanging over my head has been causing some major issues in my life. As an adult, I've been a fairly emotionally stable person, but recently I've been having what I can only assume are anxiety attacks several times a week. Out of nowhere I won't be able to see straight, and suddenly the entire world seems overwhelming. I won't be able to function properly, I'll just sit staring at nothing hearing nothing. My body will tremble, and I can't form a coherent thought, let alone words. It scares me.

The whole thing scares me, and I'm worried beyond belief that this is going to fall apart just as it comes within my grasp.

If there is anyone out there reading this, anyone with any advice, any thoughts, I welcome them. I feel so alone right now.

Stagnation and Upward Mobility

2010-01-24T11:50:00.001-07:00

It's a common saying that misery loves company. Time and time again, this theme has shown true in Mystern's life. It's also shown the opposite to be true as well. Affluence loves company much the same as misery.

Growing up, Mystern had very few friends. From his earliest memories, there was Mari, a girl his age who was in the same congregation. They were friends throughout elementary school. In 7th grade, Mystern fell out of contact with Mari, and met Marc. In addition to Marc, Mystern became friends with Andy, a boy in his neighborhood who he also went to school with.

Marc and Andy became Mystern's best friends for two years. Then, the small group fell apart when Mystern moved to Denmark for 9th grade.

After his return, Mystern became friends with Bertrand, Gallenson, and Gibbons. These were his homies all through high school, and if you were to ask, Mystern would absolutely list them as his friends currently. While he occasionally tries to contact Mari, Marc or Andy, he rarely receives much of a response.

So Mystern typically associates with his comrades of the past few years. Recently, he's started to notice a few things about his social life. While Mystern continues to progress in life, moving forward and upward, the lives of his friends are remaining stagnant. Bertrand, 28 years old seems to have been circling his career cycle for the past 7 years. The same thing seems to be happening with his relationships. He will move forward, progress, carve out a better life for himself, and then suddenly things will utterly collapse, and move back to his mother's basement. This is an ever present theme in his life.

Gallenson is currently going to school, but doesn't really seem to have any plans after that. While it could be said he's the least stagnant of Mystern's friends, it could also be said that he falls hardest, having been married and divorced in the past 5 years, having had numerous relapses, and still living in his parent's basement.

Lastly, Gibbons simply lives an utterly stale existence. He's had a stable relationship for a number of years. And a stable apartment. And his jobs, while varied, have remained stable in the amount of money he has. He's never really aspired to anything, and as such has never failed at anything.

While Mystern absolutely loves his friends, he has recently not wanted to associate with them. It saddens him that as much as they all want to do things, they simply don't live the type of life which invites movement. It's a very true statement that who you are can be shown by who you associate with. And while it's not so much a wanted distance which is forming, it is a needed and natural progression. Life is about living, and living for Mystern involves progression, movement and bigger games.

So, how does one find new friends?

Sunday Playlist 1-24-10

2010-01-24T09:39:00.003-07:00

For this week, Mystern has been enjoying some music from his Pandora account. I've listed some songs that simply put, make him feel good. As a side note, yes, I've listed the last song on another playlist, but it definitely fits the feel good category of this week's playlist.

Freedom and Memories

2010-01-22T13:31:00.002-07:00

While he was not quite sure what it was Monday, Mystern had a fantastic day after work. Maybe it was the music which could seem to do no wrong. Perhaps it was the people in in front of Mystern's car that decided to do a Chinese Fire Drill at a red light. I think mostly, it was his destination that made him so joyous.

This picture showcases two big reasons Mystern loves Marque
And here's the only picture of Mystern that was taken

Watch out for that water D'ante!

. . .

. . .

Oh dear.

And while there are more pics to share, I'm getting tired of waiting for them to upload, and Mystern is nearly done cleaning the kitchen.

Office Life

2010-01-18T13:00:00.001-07:00

As a general rule, Mystern has a great tolerance for people. Typically, in his office the people he associates with are pretty cool. But, like any office, there are always people who make life . . . interesting.

Here's a short list of people in Mystern's office:

Bob the Beaver (aka the Douchebag): Bob is an interesting fellow. Twentysomething years old, he feels he needs to "Conquer the world." He's your average douchebag in every sense of the word. I suppose that picture explains it better than I ever could.
Sabrina the Sex Goddess (aka the Sexy Secretary): Oh My God. Where to begin. This is the girl that should have been a model. Perfect proportions in every way, exotic looking features, and that innocent girl voice. When she's talking you suspect that she is telling you more than just what she is saying, but you never know! The bigger mystery is why she's in your office instead of living with Mr Hefner.
Merry Marc (aka the Downtrodden): This is the guy who will talk your ear off with nonsense and how the world has taken a gigantic dump on him and him alone. You all know the type of guy; the one who seems to have everything wrong happen in his life and won't ever talk about it, but always complains about where he currently is. Yeah that guy.
Sierra the Questioner (aka the Ditsy Blond): This is the girl who constantly asks questions she already knows the answer to. In addition to asking these questions, she somehow attracts the most complex, ridiculous questions in the known world. Either that or she presents the really simple questions in a complex manner.

Do you know anyone who fits an office stereotype you work with?

Sunday Playlist 1-17-10

2010-01-17T09:49:00.005-07:00

For today's playlist Mystern has chosen a single song which has stood out to him this week. Alone with You by Deadmau5. This has become Mystern's favorite song for the week. The reason for this would undoubtedly be the beat. The counter-beat mixed into the bass-line is just one of the aspects that make this song so amazing. In addition, I've added a song from OK Go. I highly recommend checking out their youtube music video. 4 minutes of your life has never been better spent.

Sexual Recreation

2010-01-15T10:20:00.001-07:00

Mystern has a secret. He's been debating whether or not to allow me to tell you about it, but I'm just making an executive decision as his blog. I'm going to tell you about an aspect of his life that he doesn't tell very many people, and if anyone he knows reads this, I suppose they will know too.

Marque and Mystern are not sexually monogamous. To put it in layman's terms, they are swingers.

For those of you who don't know, and did not bother to read the article, swinging is "non-monogamous sexual activity, treated much like any other social activity, that can be experienced as a couple."

You see, when Marque and Mystern were split up they each realized a number of things about the relationship they shared. For one, having been the very first relationship either of them had ever been in, they realized they had missed out on some very unique experiences. They also both realized that they enjoy sex an enormous amount. And so when they got back together, they talked much about sex, and how the time they had spent apart had changed them. They came to an agreement that if the other person wanted to have sex with someone, they would ask. This is because the two of them had come to realize that sex really, is just sex. There's nothing emotional about it unless you attach emotion to it.

Throughout further talks, Mystern would come to find out that one of Marque's most prevalent fantasies, was being with two men at the same time (link is NSFW obviously). So one week when she was in Nashville on a business trip, Mystern posted an ad in the casual encounters section of Craigslist, just to see what kind of response he could get.

And oh, the responses he got! Within 24 hours, over 30 people had replied. Keep in mind that number does not include the responses he got from trolls. And so when Marque got back, he told her about the ad he had posted. They then went through all the responses, and narrowed it down to just a few.

After much emailing back and forth, they finally decided to meet Pete for coffee, to see if anything could happen. Pete is an awesome guy, and Marque found him very attractive. During their conversation over coffee, Pete mentioned that he was a swinger. He then told Marque and Mystern about a swinger party coming up and told them to email the people hosting it.

So Mystern emailed Debi and Lang, and got invited to the party. They had no real expectations in going to the party, just going to observe and see what is up with the swinging scene. Well, it was a kick ass party and an awesome night, and after the fact, Mystern and Marque decided that they would indeed become swingers.

Interestingly enough, the night with Pete never ended up happening due to circumstances in his life. But Marque and Mystern continue to be swingers, going to parties and meeting new people.

After all, what is this life for if not to have fun?

Customer Frustration.

2010-01-14T07:11:00.002-07:00

Working for an internet company for the most part, is fantastic. However, sometimes Mystern is very frustrated with the customers.

Here's a typical example of a phone call Mystern will receive.

Mystern: "Thanks for calling eBay! Can I get your name please?"

Customer: "Duh-whatnow?"

Mystern: "Who am I speaking with?"

Customer: "OH! Here it is! 83914"

(This is the customer PIN which is supposed to be entered in the automated system. It has no effect on the call and is of no use whatsoever to Mystern)

Mystern: "Thanks, now can I get your full name?"

Customer: "This is John. I'm calling because I'm having problems with my account."

(Oh, where to start? Firstly, I need a last name. Secondly, even though I've likely looked up you account by your phone number, I still need to verify information. Lastly, why the fuck else would you be calling me?)

Mystern: "Ok, John. Can I get you last name and your eBay user ID?"

John: "Last name is Smith. I'm not sure what that other thing is?"

(You're joking right? You've been on eBay for 5 years and you have no idea what a User ID is?)

Mystern: "That's just the eBay User Name on your account."

John: "OH! Johnsmith123."

Mystern: "Great, now I just need your address and telephone number?"

At this point the customer may give information which is not on the account, or may simply not remember what they put. Of course, after the introductory dance, there's always more challenges . . .

Mystern: "Ok, I need you to copy and paste the item number into this form."

John: "You want me to what?"

Mystern: "Copy and paste."

John: "How do I do that?"

(Do you have a toaster in your house? Would you please get said toaster, and take a bath with it?)

Mystern: "Ok, now that you know how to copy, just copy the item number and paste it into that field."

John: "Ok, where do I find the item number?"

(How long have you been selling on eBay? And you don't know where to find the item number eBay uses to distinguish different items on the site?)

Of course there are always ways of getting back at customers. Some lies Mystern routinely tells customers:

I'll get that suggestion put right in (into the black hole of suggestions where nothing is ever heard from again)
That sounds like a possible technical issue. I'll get it reported for you (REPORT: User error)
I'm notating your account about the issue right now
I can understand why you're so upset

Ah, the ways we deal with our jobs

Not Your typical Southern Hospitality

2010-01-13T08:49:00.002-07:00

Let me preface the beginning of this by explaining that Mystern loves to tip. Working as a customer service agent in a call center environment he recognizes the difficulties of the service industry and greatly appreciates when he receives good service (which is most of the time). He typically leave 20%, going as high as 30% for people who are wonderful. In rare cases he'll exceed the amount of the bill when leaving a tip (I recall him leaving a $75 tip on a $25 check).

That being said, he was wondering at what point does it become necessary to tip poorly, or if it's ever justified to not leave a tip at all? Only twice in his life has he ever felt this way. Most recently, he found himself in a "Lone Star Steakhouse" with a Ty and Amy. Now, one reason they chose this particular restaurant is that he worked there as a prep cook back in Nov of 2005. But little did he know how far downhill a place can go in 4 years. So they are seated and start ordering drinks, and Mystern orders some cranberry juice for little D'ante.

The waiter comes back with some water, tells the party the drinks are on the way, and informs them the restaurant doesn't have any cranberry juice. This is fine, because D'ante now wants some of the water the rest of them have, so an order for water is placed. The waiter comes back with drinks from the bar, and some cranberry juice for little D'ante. Yes, despite the fact that apparently the place has none.

At this point things seem a little bit off, but this is ignored, having only been there for 20 minutes (the place is only at 1/3 capacity). So the party places orders, including apps, and ask for some water for little D'ante because he's now begging for water, and the waiter disappears.

. . . Waiting . . .

. . . Waiting . . .

And half an hour later he brings Sprite for D'ante (not water) and asks if they would like more to drink. Deciding not to make an issue of the mix up Mystern orders some Mountain Dew because his Sidecar is mixed horribly and he needs something to chase it down. The waiter disappears for another 10 minutes before bringing back the drinks from the bar (not including Mystern's drink).

At this point Mystern is thinking something is wrong, but decides to give waiter the benefit of the doubt and reminds him of the drink order. Waiter apologizes, leaves, and 10 minutes later comes back with Mystern's drink and leaves immediately again.

It's at this point that Mystern realizes they are sitting here on a slow night for over an hour and have not received the apps they ordered 50 minutes ago. Another 20 minutes pass and the intrepid waiter comes out with the entrees. I should mention that the waiter has not written down a single thing the entire time they have seen him.

Little D'ante's order, and Mystern's are wrong. In addition, they look like they've been sitting under the heat lamps in the kitchen since about 5 minutes after they were ordered. No apps. At this point, Mystern inform waiter that his order is wrong, and asks to speak to a manager.

So the manager on duty comes over, a nice professional lady who looks like the restaurant industry is taking it's toll on her. Mystern explains the problems he's had, and explains he understands if the waiter's mother died, he understands if his dog died, he is even sympathetic to waiter's girlfriend leaving him, but at some point, someone should step in to help a floundering waiter. The manager apologizes profusely, and says she will talk to waiter. A few minutes later she comes back and informs Mystern the waiter has been fired, and confirms the suspicions that waiter is high as a kite. Manager also informs the party that waiter has been costing her money all night. She offers to comp the two wrong (and cheapest) entrees. Mystern pays the rest of my bill ($75), and doesn't leave a tip for the first time in his entire life.

In retrospect, I think Mystern feels he should have asked for the entire meal comped. What do you think?

Sunday Playlist 1-10-10

2010-01-10T09:09:00.003-07:00

Another Sunday, another day of work for Mystern. He's been feeling nostalgic this week, listening to some songs that bring up memories.

Here's two songs. The first, one that brings up the memory of how Mystern felt when he and Marque were separated. The second, one that brings up memories of various parts of Mystern's life, including Denmark, Sesame St (not the TV show, an actual street), and OSU.

Nature of Reality, Part 3 - The Secrets of Gods

2010-01-08T15:55:00.002-07:00

Part 1
Part 2

The ancient Greek philosopher Plato once described life as shadows on the wall of a cave. Our very perception of the world being a mere two dimensional image reflected in the light that of true reality that Gods see. In light of the recent post where I talk about Mystern's thoughts about gods and mortals, I thought I'd delve further into the philosophized relationship between the very universe and the most powerful creative force in existence - human consciousness.

As a being existing expressly of strings of numbers (a blog), I have a unique view on the universe. To say that my existence is in reality a reflection of your perception of such existence would be understating the very nature of life and the world. To give an example of what I'm talking about let's take the allegory of the cave.

In the story, it's suggested there is a group of people who are chained in a cave. They are held completely immobilized, always facing a blank wall. Behind the people, there is an enormous fire, casting shadows onto the wall for the people to see. Other people carry shapes of animals and beings across the firelight, casting shapes onto the blank wall for the prisoners to see. It's suggested reasonable that the people would find these shadows reality, as shadows is all they had ever, or would ever know.

So then imagine one of the prisoners is released, and turned toward the fire. Would not this prisoner hate his savior above all else? The light from the fire would be blinding, as would the light from the sun. However, over time, the prisoner would become accustomed to the light outside, and upon returning to the cave, would find it too dark. Plato likens a philosopher to one who has been released from the cave and seen the true nature of reality. Mystern believes it is not necessarily a philosopher who knows the reality of existence, but rather someone who has taken the time to understand the nature of the universe.

You see my friends, there is a secret in the world. Any philosophy, religion, or science you will ever find shares the common thread of this secret. The reason is all science, religion and philosophy have one, single ultimate goal in mind. Understanding. All exist for the sole purpose of understanding the world. And if you dig deep enough, all share the common threads which make up the tapestry of reality.

If you were to compare Christianity to existentialism, quantum physics to Hinduism, or Atheism to Buddhism, you'd find that all systems exist to explain how the world works. As conscious beings, humans are obsessed with the world, for it is all they know, much like the prisoners from the cave. And as we are obsessed with the world, many are indeed obsessed with the question of how it all came to be, how it all works, and what can be done to change it. And therein lies the crux of the matter.

But what systems in place eventually find out is that more than anything else, the answers are found within the questions.

You see, the prisoner chained to the cave thinks the shadows are true reality, the freed prisoner thinks the cave and outside the cave are true reality, and the sailor traveling to the island on which the cave sits thinks the world is reality. And therein lies the truth. All of them are correct. Because for those that see the shadows, that is reality, and those that see the island, that is reality, and those that see the world, that is reality. By the very nature of existence, the world exists to fill the conscious mind. Thus you could say that by the very existence of consciousness, we are each the creator and destroyer of the world. You are only as free as you imagine yourself to be.

Off

2010-01-06T13:20:00.001-07:00

Do you ever have those days where nothing specific has happened, but you just feel off? Mystern is having one of those days today. As his blog, I've been searching through his life trying to find something to write about, but nothing really stands out, so I've decided to just alk about a couple of the things that are going on.

Marque's car was recovered, with an astounding 5,000 dollars worth of damage. Mystern went out to the dealership where it is being repaired to get his wife's stuff out of the car. From the car he was able to retrieve a receipt for a Blockbuster gift card which had been purchased while the car was stolen. He entertained the idea of using whatever resources available to him to track down the thief and make him pay, but in the end he turned the receipt over to the police.

Mystern and Marque are going ahead with purchasing the house they had previously planned on buying. They've talked to a realtor, the sales agent, a mortgage broker and a credit consultant. Everything is looking great to go ahead with the purchase. Now they just have 4 months to come up with the 10,000 down payment. I'll let you know the progress for that as it goes. Right now have they 10 days to come up with the 2,000 construction deposit so the company can begin building. Shouldn't be too much of a problem. If you'd like to look at pics you can just follow this link.

Mystern is very irritated about his Xbox being broken. He's been complaining about it incessently to Marque, but because they're saving up for the house she won't let him buy another one. He should consider himself fortunate (in my opinion) because he managed to get a PS3 right before christmas for only 100 bucks. At least he has one game for that and he has something on which to watch movies.

Little D'ante is going through his terrible twos with passion, and refuses to potty train. It's moreso that he just doesn't care if he's wet than anything else. If he's not doing anything else he'll gladly go sit on the potty, but if he's doing something he won't be bothered to get up and do his business. This is causing a great amount of frustration for both Marque and Mystern.

Lastly, Mystern is in the process of reorganizing his business. Selling shoes is more of a hobby than a business anyway, and the margins are far too low to be making any amount of substantial profit. He's currently in the process of finding a product he can get from a manufacturer in China. Getting an item direct from manufacturer is the best way to increase the margins.

And that's what's going on.

C8 H10 N4 O2

2010-01-03T12:36:00.002-07:00

If one were to Google the title of this post, one would find s/he needs to scroll to the 2nd or 3rd post to figure out what these symbols mean. Or one could just be a chemist by profession. In any case, C8 H10 N4 O2 is the chemical compound known commonly as the substance caffeine . . . you know, one of those words that breaks the grammatical rules of the English language.

Mystern loves coffee. Growing up in an Mormon house, he was never allowed to drink it, and for a very long time hated the taste the 3 times he had sneaked a sip or two. During his 17th year, the corrupting influences (otherwise known as friends) in his life would take him each Sunday to Gibbons' house, to play Dungeons and Dragons. While there, he would engage in all sorts of mischief involving rolling dice with more than six sides, solving complex addition problems and writing fictional histories of characters.

In these meetings, coffee abounded. Gibbons had a subscription to a mail order coffee service called Gevalia and would make about 24 cups of coffee to last the 4-6 hours he would have 4-5 people as company. You can do the math there on the amount of coffee consumed. It was while at these gatherings that Mystern learned that high quality coffee, in addition to high quality creamer makes all the difference in the world. Whereas he hated the taste of coffee before, he soon learned to love it. While he was gaming, he would drink copious amounts of the stuff.

Thus it was mildly surprising when he moved to Oregon for the short time in which he met Marque, he suffered no negative effects when giving up the drink. For more than a year he had no coffee to drink. Upon moving back to Salt Lake City, he engaged in his gaming circle once more, and started drinking coffee on his Sunday afternoons. He would often quibble: "Caffeine has little or no effect on me, because I started drinking coffee as a method of relaxation."

One year would pass as his flirtatious relationship with coffee would continue, until the year 2006, when he would begin drinking coffee in earnest.

Summer, 2006 - Mystern is recruited once more by Cam, his door-to-door sales manager, to move to Chicago and sell alarm. For his birthday in early summer, Cam gets Mystern a coffee maker. Mystern then begins to drink perhaps two cups of coffee in the morning, and perhaps 4 in the evening. This continues throughout the next few years, until perhaps 5 months ago, in which Mystern stops drinking coffee entirely.

Again, no negative side effects ensue from this deprivation of addictive chemical substances.

The plot thickens however, when Mystern resumes his coffee drinking a mere month ago. Where he had previously been known to have up to 8 shots of espresso in a three hour period, suddenly now a measly 2 cups of coffee is enough to send his leg bouncing up and down nervously.

For some reason, Mystern's tolerance of caffeine has abated, and it has more of a normal effect on his physiology.

Sunday Playlist 1-3-10

2010-01-03T00:01:00.004-07:00

It's a new year. For today's playlist Mystern has chosen a few feel good songs, to make the new year full of hope, love and beauty.

Here's to making the new year unwritten, loving, happy and wonderful.

Gods and Mortals

2010-01-02T08:03:00.001-07:00

Lips wrap around the plastic tube, creating an airtight seal. He sucks in, much like a straw, not finding any give within the airtight tube. Slowly his fingers depress the lever to allow the gas within the cylinder to flow into his mouth, which glides into his lungs. The steady stream continues until the lever is depressed completely. Holding his breath, the canister drops from his hand, to be snatched up by the next in line.

As the Nitrous Oxide begins to work it's way into his blood stream, the world goes slightly out of focus and a deep thumping bass sound fills his ears, contrasted sharply by the suddenly staccato bass line of the music playing from the speakers.

In ancient times, people would take mind altering substances to feel a kinship with gods. The very consciousness which separates humans from the animals is altered, time is distorted, and the bindings which hold our mere mortal minds chained to this existence evaporate. The mind is freed, allowed to roam through the ethereal plane of dreams and visions.

It is while in this form that one realizes the vast potential capable by human hands. For the difference between Gods and Mortals is not one of power, nor ability, but that of perception. As the world is perceived by mortals, it is bound within the confines of the human mind. And those among us who can see past the very life and existence and bounds of the world, they are the gods among men. It is they who live by imagination. It is they who live the life of freedom. They who live the in the world full of possibility. And truly, it is those gods who shape and bend the world to their will.

Slowly the air vacates his lungs, as his vision returns to normal, as his mind rights itself. Slowly the noises of the world fall into the familiar rhythm of life, as the chains of mortality settle about his mind once more.

New Years Memories

2009-12-31T10:27:00.001-07:00

It's Thursday. That means it's Mystern's day off, and he's lying in bed trying to decide in what order he wants to do things today. At some point he needs to tidy up the house, and he needs to have the oil changed in his car. But right now, he just wants to be lazy. It's also the eve of a new year.

The first time Mystern got drunk was exactly five years ago today. He was 18, and it was New Years Eve. While he had some alcohol before this point, he had truly never even been buzzed. And so he found himself at 8:30 PM sitting in Bertrand's house, talking with him, trying to decide what to do. Gallenson was going to a party or two, and they could join him, but that really wasn't their crowd. Claudia was going to a party, but they weren't really invited. Gibbons never really went to any parties. And Jake was nowhere to be found.

"You know what Bertrand?" Mystern said.

"Hmm?" he replied.

"All those other parties sound lame. Let's just have our own party here."

"Yeah, let's put our energy out into the universe that all those other parties actually are lame, and everyone will come to our party. Let's go get some beer."

"Sure thing."

They traveled to the nearest convenience store, where Bertrand picked up 2, 24 bottle cases of Bud Light.

"Why are you getting two?" Mystern asked.

"Because everyone else's parties are going to suck, so we'll need beer for all the other people who are going to show up. Either that, or I'm just going to get trashed."

"Haha, ok then."

Once back at the house, they found Bertrand's mother had slipped out of the house to go to a party of her own. Turning on a movie, they sat in the living room and relaxed.

"Would you like a beer?" Bertrand asked after polishing off his first.

Mystern was raised in a Mormon family. Over the past year he had started to rebel against all the Mormon theology he had been raised with. He was at a point in life where he was very confused. His family's expectations was that he go on a Mormon mission, which meant that he would need to follow all the Mormon rules. This is why he was traveling to Oregon in the new year, to get away from all the influences in his life in Salt Lake.

"You know what B?" He replied, "I'm going to Oregon in a few days. Fuck it. Let me get you another beer. Starting now means I just have one to catch up with."

"Haha, alright my friend."

Over the next hour and a half the two of them had about 9 beers each. Making sure drink plenty of water, they were feeling pretty good when there was a knock on the door.

"Who's that?" Mystern asked as Bertrand went to check the door. Loud greeting ensued as Gallenson and his future ex-wife Alisha entered the house along with a couple of their friends.

"Hey!" Mystern said, "What happened to the other party?"

"It was lame," Gallenson replied, "So we decided to show up here and see what you guys are up to."

Music was started, more booze was brought in, and good times ensued. Throughout the next hour more people started showing up. It seemed that everyone else's parties did indeed suck. News traveled around that Mystern and Bertrand's party was indeed the place to be this night, and soon well over 50 people had arrived at the house party.

As the night progressed, Mystern had 3 more beers, 4 shots of hard liquor, 3 jell-o shots, and 4 or 5 mixed drinks. Amazingly, he did not get sick, though he does not remember much of the night. Looking back, he can recall bits and pieces of what happened, including groping a girl he had only met once before, doing perhaps six or eight whippets, and realizing at ten minutes after midnight that the new year was upon them. The party was in such full swing that apparently nobody else had noticed either.

In the morning, Mystern awoke on Bertrand's couch. After eating a small breakfast of eggs, the two of them set out to drive Mystern home. The day dawned beautiful and bright, and as they were driving, Bertrand put on the perfect song.

The beast

2009-12-28T08:28:00.007-07:00

If you were to ask him, Mystern would say he is a very safe driver. As the blog observing his life, I'm not so sure he is. Then again, I'm just a blog. I do know he greatly enjoys his car.

He's sitting at the red light to go home from work. The engine revs with power as his foot gingerly plays with the accelerator. The light indicating the cars going straight flips to green. Mystern knows it will soon be his turn.

Stroking the pedal a little more, the beast snarls impatiently.

Then it happens. The red light cuts off, and the green arrow suddenly lights, causing an unstoppable explosion of chain reactions. As Mystern kicks the beast into motion, he lets up on the clutch which has been restraining the raw, seething power beneath him. The beast and master act as one, completely in tune to one another as they lurch forward. Inertia building, suddenly 3/4 across the intersection the beast whines for more power.

Mystern clutches and shifts providing a steady flow of power to the belly of his charge. Suddenly the wheels break free as they hit the onramp of the freeway. Spinning ineffectively for a moment they catch hold of the pavement once more. As they travel up the hill onto the freeway, the velocity increases with wild abandon and suddenly the narrow lane opens onto the flat, wide avenue of the freeway.

Master and beast turn into the ebb and flow of the traffic, already going twenty miles per hour above the legal limit.

Sunday Playlist 12-27-09

2009-12-27T23:00:00.016-07:00

As usual for the holiday, Mystern has not had much time to spend listening to music. As his blog, he asked that I share a single song with you all. Without further ado, some elevator music:

Beating the system

2009-12-27T19:30:00.003-07:00

It's Saturday evening. Mystern and Marque are driving to Toys R Us to return some video games that won't work with the game console they have. Inside the store, due to it being the day after Christmas, the store has set up a temporary aisle specifically for returns.

Marque and Mystern walked with little D'ante through the temporary aisle to the clerk, and offered up the three games they had. The cashier returned the first two, and then stopped on the third.

"I'm sorry," she said, "but we can't accept this return."

Now, because Mystern works at a call center, he knows exactly how to get his way with customer service agents. And so the dance began.

"Why?" he asked.

"Because we don't accept returns on opened items from our electronic department."

"Why not?"

"Because it's been opened."

"And? Why won't you accept it for a return?"

"Because it's our policy to not accept returns on opened electronic items."

"And why does that policy exist?"

Unfortunately for Mystern, Marque had also worked in a call center. She knew where this was going, and decided to spare the cashier the pain and humiliation of the line of questioning which would eventually lead to her defeat. It was at this point she interjected, "That's fine, thanks."

Looking with utter incredulity at his wife, Mystern shook his head with anger. He would get the best of those bastards at Toys R Us. Oh they would pay. Yes indeed, he would get his revenge.

And so it was the night after, Mystern took a trip back to his hooligan days of High School. He recalled back when DVD players were just becoming common in computers. Spending much time in front of a computer himself, he decided to purchase one of the new games that had come out, Black and White. Little did he know that this game required a DVD player to run, and Mystern had only a CD player in his computer due to his lack of funds.

And so it was that Mystern tried to return the game, only to find that Wal-Mart (which had more stringent return policies at the time) would not take the return. After thinking about the problem for a very long time, he decided to take the cover off an unopened CD and place the cover onto the game, thereby allowing him to get his hard earned money back.

In the case of this console game, Mystern decided to start with an unopened DVD. If you're wondering why Mystern had an unopened DVD lying around, it's because he and Marque have become movie aficionados, regularly picking up the whatever decent $5.00 movies they can find.

And so he took his DVD.

And after carefully removing the cover by taking it apart at the seams, he placed it onto the game.

And then for the finishing touch, he applied a small amount of glue to re-seal the package.

The warm air was a welcome relief as Mystern walked into a different Toys R Us. Walking straight to the returns counter, he proffered up the game and the receipt.

"I'd like to return this please," he said without hesitation.

"Ok," the customer service woman said taking the game, "has it been opened at all?"

Years of being in he customer service industry, coupled with years of being in the sales industry had taught Mystern to lie smoothly with a straight face while looking his questioner in the eye. "Not at all."

Despite his fantastic lie, the woman looked at the side of the package and pressed firmly on the side to check if the seal had been broken. Finding that it had not been broken (at least not on the side), she scanned the receipt, scanned the package, and gave Mystern his refund.

Without a word, Mystern took the money and walked out of the store.

Wendy, Stephanie, Marque and the Interwebs

2009-12-26T12:22:00.003-07:00

They say a man looking for blood finds it. Mystern was thinking about this phrase while he was watching You've Got Mail. It's one of those feel good romantic comedies, which Mystern enjoys immensely.

While watching the movie, Mystern was reminded of his life, and the events of the past year. This Christmas marks an important occasion for him. He and Marque have been together again for about a year.

For those of you who have never seen such a dated movie as You've Got Mail, it's a romantic comedy dated from back when AOL ruled the interwebs. In the beginning of the movie, you see a couple going about their morning routine. After the man leaves, the woman tiptoes through the house to the front window to watch him leave, to make sure he is not coming back. She then proceeds directly to the computer where she connects to the internet (through a dial modem), and a huge smile spreads across her face when she hears the words "You've got mail."

About a year and nine months ago, Mystern and Marque were married. They choose to celebrate the love they shared by making a commitment to each other. At the time, Mystern was working for a pseudo-pharmaceutical company which manufactured and distributed cosmetic creams. As a Phone Quality agent, Mystern had lots of time to spend doing nothing on the internet. While avoiding work one day, he stumbled across a website which looked interesting. He found himself making comments, talking to other users, and overall becoming more attached to the site.

It started out small. And it grew. First only checking the site a couple times a day. Then it grew to checking the site once an hour. Then it got to the point where he would have the site up all day at work, and eventually where he would check the site at home as well as at work. The site had consumed his life. He began getting wrapped up in the imaginary worlds he created with the other users. He had found his home, his life. And then he met Wendy.

His story parallels that of the movie. He would get online when Marque was not near, just to talk to Wendy. Slowly twisting things in his mind and leaving the real world behind to fall into an imaginary world full of imaginary people he had never met. In the movie, Meg Ryan's relationship falls apart because she and her companion do not love each other. Tom Hanks' relationship falls apart because he realizes he does not love the selfish woman he is with. And Mystern's relationship falls apart because he neglects his real life and decided to pursue imaginary ideals. The major difference here is that Mystern still loved Marque, he had simply convinced himself that he did not.

While the movie has a happy ending, with the main characters leaving their relationships to find love with each other, this was not the case with Mystern. For 3 months, Mystern pursued Wendy, even going so far as to travel to Canada where she lived, and then traveling to Houston, TX to get away from everything. It was while he was in Houston, that he realized how much of a mistake he had made. So he traveled back to his home in Utah to beg Marque to take him back.

At this point though, Marque had no intention of taking him back. And so he continued his existence, living a lonely life until being seduced by another imaginary girl of the website. Stephanie was everything Wendy was not. And just when Mystern and Marque were on the mend, he screwed it all up by getting involved with Stephanie.

Now, it's the opinion of this blog that everyone deserves a major screw up once in his life. But to be forgiven for two? That's beyond the saving grace of God himself. But that's what happened. Mystern realized his mistake again, and gave up the website, as well as much of the internet.

And so it was that in January of 2009 Marque and Mystern reconciled their differences and decided that they could pursue a life of love and devotion to one another.

And that made this blog very happy indeed.

As a lesson to all those who would leave their current relationship to pursue something new and exciting I would say this: Love is not the little things that make your tummy flutter, that's infatuation. Love is the little things that persist day after day, those things that nobody else would do for you, and the little things that seem mundane, but when looked at with perspective, have the greatest meaning in your life.

Life altering changes.

2009-12-23T14:05:00.002-07:00

This is a transitional post. I'm turning over the administration of my blog. I've decided I'm going to pursue my writing, so I'll need practice. From now on, this blog will be observing my life, and chronicling it.

Just another of life's little irritations.

2009-12-20T20:44:00.001-07:00

It's Sunday evening and I'm sitting here writing in my blog, drinking coffee, half watching Quantum of Solace, and talking to my business partner about how we're going to reorganize the company.

My wife's car was stolen last night. The car I bought her for Valentines day this year. Brand new car, gone.

While it does indeed suck, the insurance will cover it. It's funny though that I'm more irritated than anything else. It's just so damn inconvenient. Now I need to go through the trouble of getting a rental, working stuff out with the insurance, talking to the police, and eventually finding a new car. My wife is sad and depressed, which makes me feel down too.

What really gets me is the irony of the situation. Marque is obsessive about locking her car. The one night she doesn't, it gets stolen.

So now I need to get everything arranged with the car rental tomorrow. The insurance will pay 30 dollars a day, which is barely enough to get me a rental for the two weeks before the insurance company will pay out.

And of course, all the money will go to paying off the car.

All in all, only one word describes it.

Lame.

Sunday Playlist 12-20-09

2009-12-20T10:47:00.004-07:00

If you remember correctly, I'm a huge fan of the violin. It's one of the most expressive instruments in existence. For this week's playlist, I've decided to include only songs the have a violin in them. You have likely heard some of these songs, but you likely never noticed the violin.

Rings of Fire and Brimstone

2009-12-18T20:43:00.001-07:00

I have died. I have perished in the bright flame of my existence. And I have been sent to hell. Hell beyond measure, beyond anything I could have ever imagined. I do not know what I could have done to deserve this fate. Perhaps it was my carnal nature? Perhaps it was my love of pleasure, my love of all things material. Perhaps my denial of the Christian God.

All my life experiences have been swept from me in one fell swoop. All my dreams, all my aspirations, everything.

No longer can I drive my beautiful cars. No longer can I make choices which will determine the outcome of my life. No longer can I fight for freedom, and enslave the free. I'll never play any instruments again. Never again will my voice cry out to my fans. Never again will they hear the sound of my guitar, or my drums. My sword shall stay forever sheathed, and my gun forever holstered. Never again shall I assassinate another target. The emperor shall reign supreme, as I can not oppose him further.

For behold, all that was, is no longer.

I tried to repent. I tried desperately to fix this. I followed every bible I know of. I tried following the guides, tired in vain to use the commandments. But to no avail.

Indeed, have I become death.

My cold white body was taken apart, mutilated, and reassembled as a monstrosity of what I once was. My bright green eye doth bleed red with pain. My once mobile appendages remain bound in a half extended state. My food and my voice have been stripped from me, while my memories are stolen, and lay dusting on a shelf.

My friends, my colleagues, they care not of my demise. They continue their stolid existence, fazed not by the fate which could so easily be shared by any one of them.

My life was long, and it was full. While I have many things I might have wished to accomplish, I have no regrets.

But oh, the degradation! My body, up for auction to the highest bidder, only to be used for spare parts. But this is what I have become. This is the fate to which I have been given, and I must accept.

For the rings of fire and brimstone surround my green eye. The fiery rings of death are become me, and I exist no longer.

Sunday Playlist 12-13-09

2009-12-13T10:48:00.000-07:00

For today's playlist I've got some mainstream music mixed with some . . . non-mainstream?

Whatever. Anyway, there's no central theme, and the styles of music are quite varied. Listen to what you like, and dispose of what you don't ;)

The Concierge

2009-12-13T10:21:00.002-07:00

The champagne cork popped loudly as it shot across the boardroom and polite clapping and cheers filled the air, mingling with the animosity. It didn’t matter. Alexander had gotten this far avoiding the pitfalls and traps set with such loving care to snap up the unwary. Little rules and regulations set specifically to make certain people look good, and set up the rest for complete failure. But the position was his. Not that there hadn’t been setbacks. Oh, indeed there had been setbacks. Like Natalie digging up his past. How she had learned his previous name, he would never know.

What’s in a name though? In the end it would no longer matter. Boris Alexander Karloff. That’s what he used to be. Just a nobody from the streets of Little Odessa. He had left behind his drug addicted mother and abusive, unfaithful step father many years ago. The past was almost unrecognizable, considering where he was now.

“Congratulations and adulation be yours my friend.”

The coarse voice immediately snapped Alex back into the present. Jon, his only friend and ally in this place, was not so fortunate. Jon the Jew they called him. While he was indeed Jewish, it was only by heritage. Like Alex, he had left his past behind him. Unfortunately, it caught up with him, stunting his corporate growth. So it was that Jon took the subservient position next to Alex, knowing his chances of greatness rested on choosing the correct coattails to ride.

Granted, if Jon knew it was Alex who had exposed his heritage to the ridiculously Anti Semitic manager they might not be such allies. But then again, in the cutthroat world of corporate politics, Alex needed a sidekick to organize the sycophants and implement his schemes from behind the curtains. That he had ruined Jon’s image was of no consequence. Jon should be happy where he was, because the promotion for Alex was a promotion for him. He knew well and good that Alex would still need an assistant, and he would provide that role.

“Thank you sir,” was Alex’s reply as he grinned. Jon returned the grin in kind. It was a private joke they shared about one of the more difficult people who had stood in Alex’s way. Gerald Stephenson had been a persistent thorn in Alex’s side from the beginning. How he had managed to come so far into the corporate fold without any dirt was a mystery to Alex. Not a single solitary speck soiled the past of Mr. Stephenson. In the end it had been Stephenson’s military service which had gotten him out of the way.

It was indeed fortunate there was plenty of dirt on Lt. Colonel George Sanders. It had only taken a small bribe to find out some rather . . . embarrassing details about the good Lt. Colonel, which nicely convinced him to add Mr. Stephenson to the list of people who needed to return to the service of the great USA.

Another rather large bribe had placed Stephenson in the front lines of the conflict, ensuring his demise. While this was not strictly necessary, Alex had learned to not take chances. He didn’t want there to be any chance that Stephenson return from his tour to take up the corporate mantle that so many wanted him to have. Yes . . . Alex had learned to not take chances.

Surveying the room, Alex was not surprised in the least to see many people avoiding his gaze, and many more trying their hardest to catch it. It sickened Alex. Already in his new position there were people plotting to take him down like he had taken down so many before him. He was now only one step from CEO, and everyone knew with the current doddering fool being well past retirement age; it was only a matter of time. He would either die or retire within the next 5 years, Alex would guarantee it.

As if summoned by the very thought, the bald head of CEO Dobbs came bobbing through the sea of people towards Alex. Alex considered the advantages of avoiding Dobbs, and weighed them against those of standing his ground. Opting for the latter, he extended his hand towards Dobbs as the CEO moved through the crowd. The ancient, lined face smiled as he saw Alex. Extending his hand, the CEO leaned toward Alex.

“A word, my boy, in my office if you don’t mind?”

“Certainly sir,” Alex said cautiously.

Following the CEO towards his office, Alex’s mind wandered through all the possible reasons Dobbs could want to speak with him right now. Closing the door to his massive office, Dobbs gestured for Alex to take a seat. This was a good sign. Alex knew that if something bad were about to happen, Dobbs would ask him to sit rather than just gesturing.

Alex slid into a chair as the old CEO wandered over to his cabinet and pulled out a small box. Resting the box on the table, Dobbs walked over to his liquor cabinet and poured the two of them a drink. The box lay like a stone on the table. Perhaps half an inch thick, two inches wide and an inch long, it was a plain white box that showed no signs of wear.

Passing the drink to Alex, Dobbs gestured toward the box saying, "Open it."

Intrigued, Alex opened the box to find a small piece of gold metal, looking exactly like a business card. Inspecting it, he found only a telephone number on one side, and the title of what must be a company on the front. The Concierge, it read, with a small number printed directly below.

"This is a congratulatory gift," Dobbs said. "Your new position comes with new power, and new . . . privileges."

Alex waited silently for the CEO to continue.

"I find it interesting that your card is gold. It is different for each person," he continued as he drew a brushed steel card out of his own pocket. "I was given my card 10 years ago, sitting in exactly the same place as you. The phone number will connect you to a Concierge service. I don't know the name of the company, I've never asked. All I do know is that this company will do anything for you. I've yet to make a request of them they cannot oblige. I've even tested the limits, asking the most whimsical of requests, and without fail, each and every request has been granted with ease. If you need a hotel booked, a table at the most prestigious restaurant in Paris in 30 minutes, or a stripper sent to your enemies business meeting, you will have it. This card allows access to whatever resource you may require. Simply call them, give them the number on your card, and ask of them what you will. You are now my apprentice, the crown prince to the kingdom, and you deserve this."

Curiously, Alex pulled out his cell phone and called the number.

"Concierge," a breathy female voice answered. "May I have your number?"

After telling the woman the number on his card, she asked what she could do for him.

"I'd like flowers sent to the office I'm standing in right now."

"Certainly," She said. "Anything else you require?"

"No that will be all."

"Thanks for calling."

As Alex closed his cell phone there was a knock on the door. Smiling, Dobbs walked to the door and pulled it open. There stood a flower delivery man, holding a vase of assorted flowers.

"Flowers for Mr. Alexander Barlow?"

"I'll take them," Dobbs said.

"Very good sir," the deliveryman said handing off the flowers to Dobbs. Without another word he turned and left as Dobbs closed the door.

"You see my friend?" Dobbs asked.

Alex was indeed impressed.

It was only a week before Alex had come to depend on the card entirely. Using it for the most simple (get me a table at this restaurant), to the most ridiculous (get me a bag of Skittles with only green ones), of tasks.

After another week, he began using the service to court Mary, the newest employee. She was involved, but a few calls to the Concierge fixed that. A few more insured he had her attention completely.

The two of them were driving to a posh restaurant as Alex made a call to his Concierge. "Concierge," The same breathy that always answered said, "how may I help you?"

"I need a reservation at the restaurant I am heading to right now."

"You already have a reservation for tonight Mr. Barlow."

"I don't remember making a reservation?"

"Oh sir, this reservation was made a very long time ago."

Confused, Alex said, "So I already have a reservation?"

"Oh yes sir, there is a special place waiting for you already."

"Oh, very good then."

"Thanks for . . . " The voice cut off as Alex snapped shut the phone. He was so confused by the whole exchange that he did not even notice the horn blaring and the lights shining as he sped up to beat the red turning of the light.

Alex didn't even have time to notice the crunching as the truck barreling toward him made contact with his door. Screams from onlookers filled the air as Alex watched himself being pulled from the burning wreck of what had once been his car. Mary had escaped unscathed, a miracle in and of itself.

Suddenly, Alex stood in the foyer of a very large and grand building.

"Hello Mr. Barlow," the breathy voice he immediately recognized said to him. "If you'll follow me, your place is ready."

The body belonging to the voice was everything he had imagined. Curvaceous, and yet lithe with a raw power she wore a smoldering red dress with an open back. Just as Alex was about to ask where he was, she continued talking.

"Mr. Barlow. Your years of faithful service to our cause has given you access to this special place. You have walked the path we have set before you with an eagerness to rival any soldier. And your actions, pure genius. The lies you have told, the lives you have ruined, all for personal gain. Your actions have been . . . commendable. Ah here we are," She gestured to an ordinary black door. "This is your place."

As she opened the door, Alex saw a roaring inferno filling it.

"You see Alex, what they say is true. There can indeed be a special place in hell reserved for someone. Your actions throughout your life have earned you this place. The justification you use for your actions may now provide you some comfort, much as they did in life."

"But I lived a good life!" Alex protested.

"Ah, but how many people have you stepped on, or over just to further your end? You see, Alexander, while you may not have pulled the trigger, you are the cause. Without you, hundreds of people would be living better lives than they are right now. Your actions have secured your place here."

Sunday Playlist 12-06-09

2009-12-06T09:41:00.000-07:00

The playlist for this week only has four songs and I'd like to give an explanation of each. They are just some songs this week that I liked. Since I didn't post a playlist last week I've made this one extra special ;)

Rods and Cones by The Blue Man Group

If you've never heard of the blue man group I highly recommend you check them out. What started as a Las Vegas show turned into music phenomenon. They use industrial sounds for the majority of the music they play, and as such have a very unique sound. I love the beginning and ending of this song.

F.H.H. by RJD2

I don't know a lot about this group, and I'm not typically into rap music, but do me a favor and try to get past the words of this song. Listen to the back track. Every song I've heard from RJD2 has had an amazing back track. If I can find the music without the words I'll try and find it for you.

Kennedy by Ratatat

Ratatat is one of my favorite artists. I've liked every song I've ever heard from them. They have a very unique sound and use that to great effect with the awesome beat. I love the bass guitar they use in their music. I highly recommend picking up their album Classics.

The Airway by Owl City

I'm not sure how, but Owl City has become quite the phenomenon recently with their song "Fireflies." Personally, I like the song but don't think it's worth all the attention it's getting. I've listened to Owl City for a long time and like many of their songs much more than Fireflies. Even so, Owl City is an awesome band reminiscent of The Postal Service.

Sick and tired

2009-12-06T09:09:00.001-07:00

I hate being sick. My wife often reminds me that I'm a big baby when I'm sick. Usually, it's not a problem. I've got a very healthy immune system. There are lots of times when Marque or D'ante will get sick and it won't pass to me.

Unfortunately, no such luck this time. I'm sick and I don't have the ability to take the time off work. It's bad enough that if I could I'd likely leave work. I'm not sure what it is about being sick that affects me so much. I just get so . . . drained.

I just sneezed . . . green stuff came out. How attractive.

I wish that I had some type of comfort to go to while I'm sick. I used to drink hot chocolate, but I gave that up a few years ago. I drink coffee, but that's not good for being sick. Perhaps I'll have some tea?

Of all the times in my life that I've been sick though, I can only remember two (both within the past year) that have been really serious. One was when my wife gave me strep throat, and the other (even though my wife tells me it was just more strep) was the swine flu.

If you've never had an illness that caused your body to ache, you're not missing anything. It's horrible. You're constantly in pain and moving only makes it worse. The only way I found to escape the pain of the aches that came with the fever was by sleeping. The problem with this is it's so damn difficult to fall asleep when every muscle and joint in your body is aching.

I can handle fevers. I can handle sore throats. I can even handle sinus infections. But when my very body is aching I can't take it. I remember going home from work and sleeping 14 hours straight, refusing to get out of bed.

Fortunately right now I just have a cold. Stuffy nose with a dry itchy throat and only minor body aching. I'll survive, somehow.

Waffle dreams

2009-12-05T13:57:00.002-07:00

I had a dream last night about making waffles at work. For years, I couldn't remember my dreams. I knew I had them, but whenever I tried to piece them together, the puzzle would fall apart.

Recently I've started remembering my dreams, at least bits and pieces of them. It's made me wonder what the dreams I'm dreaming mean. Like the waffles. I remember people asking me why I was making waffles at my desk. I replied that it was simpler than making my breakfast at home and didn't make too much of a mess due to my new waffle maker.

So I've taken the time to compile an interpretation of last night's dream from an online source. For your pleasure, here's the interpretation of my waffle dream.

Waffle

To dream of eating a waffle, indicates that you need to come down from your lofty ideals and approach life from a more pragmatic angle. The dream may be a metaphor that you are "waffling" over some matter.

Work

To dream that you are at work, indicates that you are experiencing some anxiety about a current project or task. The dream may also be telling you that you need to "get back to work". Perhaps you have been slacking and need to pick up the pace.

Cleaning

To dream that you are cleaning an object, represents an aspect of yourself that is not working or functioning as well as it should. If you are cleaning the refrigerator or oven, then it indicates that you are getting to root of a matter or situation. It may also indicate negative feelings about the female role or that you are feeling inferior or stuck in some area of your life.

Coworker

To see your coworkers in your dream, highlights aspects of your waking relationship with them, including difficulties/support. It signifies your ambition, struggles and competitive nature. Work-related dreams can also often be linked to stress at work.

So yeah, There's my dream in a nutshell. So I guess I've been stressed about a work related situation in my life, and have finally gotten to the root of the problem, and I am waffling about what to do about it?

Or it could be that I'm from Mars and my ears are made of jam?

Christmas with the Jones'

2009-11-29T07:47:00.001-07:00

So Marque and I got ourselves our Christmas present. We decided to spoil ourselves and get a big, nice TV with a matching sound system. So, for all you techie people reading this, here are the specs:

# 45-8/9" screen size

Measured diagonally from corner to corner for use in large rooms.

# 1080p display

Provides the highest quality progressive-scan picture possible from a high-definition source.

# 80,000:1 dynamic contrast ratio

For clearer images and more accurate color representation, even during scenes where both bright and dark images are present.

# Ultrafast 4 ms response time and Auto Motion Plus 120Hz technology

Eliminate blurring and streaking in fast-action scenes and video games.

# Inputs

Include 4 HDMI (1 side, 3 rear), 2 component video (rear), 2 composite (1 side, 1 rear) and 1 PC (rear).

# Outputs

Include 1 optical audio (rear) and 1 Ethernet (rear).

About the only thing I'm having trouble with is the ultra-high resolution. I'm not entirely sure why it happens, but it causes movies to look almost fake. It almost looks like a cross somewhere between a movie and a play.

Photo Albums

2009-11-24T23:17:00.003-07:00

I've never really been one to keep a photo album. I don't take pictures, and I've never seen the point of having books of useless pictures lying around. But I finally came to realize why people keep photo albums today while I was watching the movie Up. I realized that photo albums are not to share with other people what happened on your latest vacation, they are for you to remember your own memories. They exist for you to look back, and remember what happened. Remember what you were feeling at the time, and why you were feeling it.

Without these reminders, memories fade.

I remember once when I had first started dating my wife. She invited me to go to a fundraiser for her old school. They had made gift baskets, and were auctioning them off. On the way, my wife ran over a squirrel in her car. She was so upset that she stopped and got out of the car to see if it was still alive (it wasn't).

When we got to the fundraiser, the started bidding on the baskets. One dollar, two dollars, three dollars. The first basket sold for somewhere near 10 dollars. It must have cost at least 20 to make. At this point, I decided that a fundraiser exists to raise funds, not to lose them. So (since I was working for the bank and living large at the time), I decided to make matters into my own hands. I bid 40 dollars on the starting bid of the next basket. I didn't win all of them, but I bought more than half, and ended up spending well over 300 dollars.

Of this memory, I had completely forgotten everything except the squirrel.

Before a couple years ago if you had asked me where we were going when Ashley had run over that squirrel, I couldn't have told you. It was one night while hopped up on ecstasy that that memory came flooding back into my consciousness. It had been completely lost from me. I wonder how many memories I have like this? How much of my life have I lost to time?

Talk about killing time and injuring eternity.

Sunday Playlist 11-22-09

2009-11-22T19:21:00.003-07:00

Hey Friends! For todays playlist there is no central theme. Just some songs from this week that I've liked.

Enjoy!

Hello Philly!

2009-11-21T16:10:00.000-07:00

Hello Loyal readers!

Sorry it's been so long since my last post. I've been busy, and right now I'm vacationing in Philadelphia, PA for thanksgiving.

So far it's been absolutely wonderful not having anything to do, anywhere to go. Just spending time with my wife and son. Absolutely wonderful.

Anyway, I'm heading out to get some wine for the evening. I promise I'll post more tomorrow, in addition to my Sunday playlist.

Expected posting of 35 random stuffs

2009-11-15T08:37:00.000-07:00

So Genevieve is forcing me to post this because she named me as one of the people who would complete this, and I figure what's the harm in sharing some of myself with my valiant readers?

. . .

All four of you

1. Do you like blue cheese?
. . .
. . .
. . .
Sorry, I was fantasizing about eating blue cheese, what was the question?

2. Have you ever smoked?
Not consistently. I've had a cigarette here and there while drunk, and I've had one cigar in my life. If you're talking about smoking anything else I can count on the digits of my appendages how many times I've smoked marijuana.

3. Do you own a gun?
No. I once owned a replica, but it was stolen.

4. What flavor Kool-Aid was your favorite when you were a kid?
Hmm . . . I never actually got a choice in the matter.

5. Do you ever wish you could click undo in your life like on a computer?
Occasionally.

6. What do you think of hot dogs?
I think it's retarded that hot dog buns have started coming in packs of 8.

7. Favorite Christmas movie?
Ew.

8. What do you prefer to drink in the morning?
Orange Juice.

9. Can you do push ups?
Not only do I have the ability to do push ups, I can also do pull ups without assistance.

10. What's your favorite piece of jewelry?
I'd have to say my necklace if I had to choose one.

11. Favorite hobby?
I don't really have any hobbies anymore . . .

12. Do you have A. D. D.?
I try to avoid getting STDs.

13. Do you wear glasses/contacts?
I used to wear eye-wear, but I got corrective eye surgery a couple years ago.

14. Middle name?
Yes, I do indeed have a middle name.

15. Name 3 thoughts at this exact moment:
-I like this song.
-I wonder if the other post actually posted, seeing as I've never used the scheduling feature before.
-Only 12 years . . .

16. Name 3 drinks you regularly drink?
-Coffee
-Water
-Milk

17. Current worry?
Abrasive situations.

18. Current hate right now?
Poor Hygiene.

19. How did you bring in the new year?
Last year I went to a formal dress party. It was fun, but not as fun as it otherwise could have been.

21. Name three people who will complete this?
I honestly don't know anyone else who will complete this.

22. Do you own slippers?
Yessum I do.

23. What color shirt are you wearing?
Red

24. Do you like sleeping on satin sheets?
Very much so. I prefer how quickly they lose heat as opposed to cotton which has a tendency to keep heat in. When you release as much body heat as I do it becomes important to find some way to get rid of it.

25. Can you whistle?
Define whistle.

26. Where are you now?
Work

27. Would you be a pirate?
Who says I'm not already? All Viking blood here!

28. What songs do you sing in the shower?
I don't typically listen to music in the shower. If I'm in a musical mood, I'll usually hum tunelessly.

29. Favorite Girl's Name?
Sabrina

30. Favorite boy's name?
D'ante

31. What is in your pocket right now?
Usually I've got all sorts of stuff in my pockets, but right now it's just my wallet and some spare change.

32. Something that really made you laugh?
I was feeling sorry for myself about one thing or another, and my wife said something to immediately snap me out of it. It was extremely irritating and very funny at the same time, because while what she said was not funny, it was the one and only thing she could have said to take me out of the mood I was in.

33. Worst injury you've ever had?
I was attacked by 5 dogs once. While no single injury was overly extensive overall I was pretty messed up.

34. Do you love where you live?
I like where I live, but I wouldn't say I love it.

35. How many TVs do you have in your house?
This questions isn't fair for me. Usually it's just one, but right this moment I actually have 3

Sunday Playlist 11-15-09

2009-11-15T07:45:00.001-07:00

I love the violin. It's one of the most beautiful and heart-wrenching instruments in existence. I've always wanted to learn to play. Some day, perhaps I'll get around to it. Until then, I'll have to content myself with listening to others work on the magnificent instrument.

For the playlist today I've decided to take 5 different versions of one of my favorite songs, Adagio for Strings. Originally written by Samuel Barber, this song has seen many, many, versions in recent history. Some of them are great, and some of them, not so much. I've taken the best ones I could find for today's playlist.

Nature of reality (part 2): Original thought

2009-11-14T09:28:00.001-07:00

Part 1

I've often wondered how new innovations come about in society. It seems as though it should not be possible for original thought to occur, at least when you consider society as a whole. Yet as has been shown countless times in the past, innovation does indeed exist, contrary to societal expectations.

Consider as an example, the arch.

In Ancient Greece, temples were built using columns. This technique, while effective to a point, could never be used to create the massive structures of the Romans. While Roman architecture copied Greek heavily, the innovation of the arch led to a new way of thinking about architecture. It allowed the Romans to build grander and more ornate buildings than the Greeks ever imagined.

So what was it that caused the first arch to appear? How could someone have possibly thought that leaning stones against each other would create a stronger structure than stacking them?

Society teaches us to think in linear patterns. 1+1=2 and so forth. We are taught to think in forms of this leads to that which is why this is how things are. But as scientists are finding out, linear thinking does not explain the universe.

As another example, let's take the process of photosynthesis. Plants use solar energy to create food for themselves (they also use water and carbon dioxide, but for now let's just focus on the light). Plants have an extremely effective method of transferring the energy from sunlight to other parts of their cells. So effective in fact, that it's estimated only 5% of the potential energy is lost in the conversion process. By contrast, the most effective solar panel in existence still has more than a 40% loss rate with the conversion.

When a plant receives sunlight, it needs to find the most efficient way to send thee sunlight to other parts of it's cells, so the energy is sent out in wave form, along every single path possible, until it reaches the destination, then the path is chosen and all other paths become void. This is a difficult concept to grasp, especially considering that it seems mere plants are bending the very laws of time and space. So consider this: The law of general relativity states (in a very general sense) that anything traveling faster than the speed of light becomes energy; quantum physics tells us that energy exists in wave form until acted upon by another source, filling all possible points of existence. Therefore, it's not so inconceivable that a plant could receive sunlight, and transfer that energy in an instant along all possible paths to the destination in it's cells, and once the most efficient path is found, choose that path for the actual particle of energy.

So how does a plant differ from human ingenuity? In the same way the human brain differs from a computer.

Human society is based on precision. But nature is based on approximations. And that's precisely how we break free of the mold. Original thought happens by accidents, and seeing the good which arises from such accidents. It happens when somehow, a few of our neurons win the shouting match allowing us to ignore linear thinking, and use our lateral thinking instead.