Half of a hundred.

What have I accomplished over my break?
I intended to do so much, but my resolve was weakened by desire and Fate.

I read "Meet Mr. Mulliner" by P.G. Wodehouse an was entertained by the Englishman's list of interesting family and relations. Such as the Stuttering Nephew who had an unfortunate day of trying to overcome his shyness by talking to three of the wrong strangers. And the brother who was a master chemist, and designer of "Buck-U-Uppo," a formula that would invigorate an elephant to challenge Indian tigers on hunts. Another nephew consumes this potion and is revitalized with courage and vigor after a long existence as a timid curate. This formula completely changes the trajectory of his life, granting him a backbone, a wife, and a living.
Very enjoyable, very funny, and an absolutely engaging and fast paced collection of short anecdotes. I am reading another Wodehouse right now.

The Fall, Chuck Hogan and Guillermo del Toro.
This is the second book of the Strain trilogy. I finished it at a rather adequate pace. It delves into the origin of Setrikan's hate and mission for killing the fallen angels that are the vampire race. The six Ancients are revealed and take their third faction into clearing up the infestation of the Master's reckless feeding. Palmer, the Master's human contact is dying slowly and wants to be turned into an immortal bloodsucker as a final means of survival - his personal vice in life is to prolong his existence, and science is failing him. The book of the vampire's history is up for auction, but it carries a legendary and mysterious history of "accidents" for those who possess the contents. Overall, a decent apocalypse series for those interested in supra-natural means of world decay and destruction.

She and Him, Vol. Two.
What shall I say about this perennial part of my blog's outlook? It is lovely and unique in its folksy, laid back feel. "In the Sun" is a favorite of mine with its cheerful sense of playfulness in the game of gaining attention of a love interest. "Gonna get along without you now" is a cute-cut of realizing the reality of a false friend, well written and arranged farewell tune and parting shot.
"If you can't sleep" is a soothing lullaby that comforts my mind and calms my spirit, it soars and swoops through my mind in a lovely pattern.

Finally, a parting thought in short verse. It amuses me and challenges my mind to conjure them up on the wing. I have not the observation and intuitiveness to know when it is tiring to my audience...

Woke up this morning to discover my break was gone.
Back to school and its responsibilities - What have I done?
I LoL'ed a lot over the week, spent time with friends, and slept in late.
However, Saturday had woken my heart, feeling the pull of guilt innate.
"Forsooth!" I pondered, "I have a speech. I must revise, I should outreach!"
I wrote and thought and thought and wrote, my topic trivial, but 'tis trivia that I know.
I keep in my mind facts obscure, why they stick to my memory is left unsure.
My first class dealt with concepts to compute - ASCII code, Inputs, OS's to boot.
My second class was speechified, I had to concentrate, and I feel confident and fine.
(Though my presentation was rough at points, my transitions and purpose lent me good points).
My third class concerned Mode, Median, and Mean. Twas all finite math, and baby steps into problems quite keen. For while the class was deceptively smooth, I know the applications will flip my brain quickly to move.
I left for the day, my first reentry complete. I walked to my bus stop listened to my iPod touch's tones so sweet. However, my battery died before I embarked, on my journey hope, silence accompanied my reading of Wodehouse's art.
I received a haircut, for my mane was growing long. My bangs were quite stubborn, and was wavy and wrong. Snip, Snip, Snip, that problem is gone, my maintenance is simplified as the strands fall anon.
I proceed to my job - organizing my carts, of books and CD's to be shelved and re-caught. Libraries are truly Franklin's greatest idea, this Daylight Savings Time is his worst I fear.
I enjoy the power to explore and learn more, from Bios to Fiction, it all is adored.
I saw a young lady who made eye contact and waved. I didn't recall making her acquaintance, so I nodded as my mind struggled to be saved. Was I really to know her: a face to recall? I had no clues, so I continued shelving the YA wall. My closing duties completed, I locked up and left.
Home is so welcoming, my family never of entertainment bereft. For whether it be youngest asking us to pretend to laugh, or viewing the results of the March Tournament of (Wrath?).
My family is loving, my friends likable to know.
I hope that this description fits you, my reader, to agree with "just so."

Haikus tradition
Why five-seven-five framework?
Ah! Pray for Japan...

Creating A Scene - The Improv Everywhere story

Charlie Todd was just another aspiring actor in NY City. Todd's aspirations took on a different trajectory one night when he received a friend in his apartment. "Hi Ben Folds!"
Todd decided that as a gag, he and his buddy should put their acting chops to the test by posing as Mr. Folds and a dedicated fan in a bar. Ten minutes after they enter separately, Todd's buddy approaches him at the bar and calls him "out" as the pop pianist. Amazingly, it succeeds and the two become the toast of the bar. From such humble beginnings was Improv Everywhere spawned.

Their Youtube channel has recieved millions of views for their "Food Court Musical" (People stand and add verses with no seeming connection between performers' lives), "Frozen Grand Central" (Agents are planted in the infamously busy terminal and pause in position for three and a half minutes, drawing the attention and curiosity of the daily commuters), and the awkward "No Pants Subway Ride" held annually (It is what it sounds...).

This book, "Creating a Scene" is an insider's view of the work that goes into these "victimless" pranks, and first person accounts, views, tips, and suggestions for how to pull them off on as smaller level in your community. My favorite one to read about was "the Moebius," a mission that revolved around a group of 7 "agents" performing the same series of actions for an hour of 5 minute loops. By the third iteration, people began to notice the pattern. The video quality for the prank (found on Youtube) was spotty, grainy, and sounded mostly of murmurs. Still the person carrying the boombox blaring "Shiny Happy People" was pretty funny!

Good book, though odd. These NY pranksters have greater plans for the entertainment and bemusement of Big Apple natives and tourists for years to come - It is New York! A crazy country all to itself. From "McDonald's Bathroom Attendant" handing out mints and cologne to cheap eatery visitors to "Dead Author Meet and Greet" with a fake Anton Chekhov at Barnes & Noble.

Gamed inspiration.

I have wings of hope upon which to fly.
Not all poetry must needs to make readers cry.
I am but one in a sea of these people,
yet I stand firm on my platform- determined not to be shown feeble.
I have failed in the past, made my mistakes-
crawled from the depths of real passion and faked.
I am not disillusioned, but I will not despair.
I have a Savior, as John C. Cooper declared.
My Lord gives me purpose, a song which to sing.
Whether whispered or shouted, his Name to be praised.
I am destined for more than this frail world of pain,
with pockets of beauty, of hope, of new days.
I am a child, matured through His love.
I will strive to be faithful, to raise others above.
Whether I be trampled, stripped, or defamed.
I rest on His mercy, guided by His grace.
I may falter, I may fail, but never remain defeated,
for my destination was bought through His nails.
Through His suffering, I have received clothes of white-
through his crimson blood, my soul has gained flight.


That is what comes of staying up late, posting threads to an iTouch game forum wall of desperate poetry. The bulk of what was considered poetry was "Woe is me, profound sorrow, and pain."
Poetry can be beautiful, can be lovely, can be inspirational. Mine is not particularly exemplery, but I have my moments.

Commitment, or is it?

I talk too much at times. But I need some discipline in my life, thus I will post something that comes to mind every other day for a week. This shall be fun and challenging. The pictures on my page don't change for a reason - they rest in limbo as they suit the character of my page. I really have been listening to She & Him:Vol. 2 and love its sound immensely. As for Hood? It was a birthday present a couple of years ago. I read it voraciously upon its arrival. Alas, the sequels in the trilogy were long in coming, and by then I lost the thread. The same phenomenon has occured with del Toro's The Strain Trilogy - I am reading the Fall on my breaks @ my library job. Ironically, my revival of its undead contents is succeeding. (I think, at least. I still don't necessarily recall just who Gus is!).

Also, I am rediscovering albums from my childhood. While driving my Avalon, I listen to MP3's of Phillips, Craig, and Dean's early 90's work, and the ever relevant Michael Card. My new favorite Card classic is called Why?, but perennially dear to me are God's Own Fool and Final Word. I am also attempting to read Kaleb Nation's Bran Hambric: Farfield Curse book in my free moments. I finished John Green's zombie apocalypse novella Zombicorns, which he insisted was not his best work.

Premise of Zombicorns? A strain of corn causes its consumers to fall in love with the plant. The "Z'ed up" devotees dedicate their lives to the protection and propagation of the corn. They will eat anything but the sacred corn, which the "Z'ed up" plant willy-nilly in the ruins of Chicago. The protagonist is a girl named Mia whose family was overcome by the corn's mind control. She had to "complete" her parents with an AR-15 to avoid eating the corn and subsequently becoming the plant's slave. Mia lives with her dog, Mr. President, in an underground bunker. She survives on canned tuna and bottles of wine. The plot thickens when she meets a fellow survivor who wields dual M-16's in a mission to kill as many of the Z's as possible.

The novella is not very long - 60 pages at most, but for a John Green follower, it satiates a fix for a little while. Thankfully, there is very little swearing, as there are very few characters for which to swear in the tale.

More forthcoming soon.
Good night, Good Fortune, Godspeed.
Journeys have purpose.

An Overdue Poem (two reviews)

Oh, how I love being up late!
It has been consistent for a while (if I must be straight)
It is the power of the Mountain Dew, I have slurped it as a slushie and ice-laden brew
But, 'tis my readers who should be the tone of my verse - I am an amateur writer (and my voice is not terse).
My readers are patient, as my keyboard flings couplets true.
I am not a William Shakespeare, but I have gifted this to you.
I hope you enjoy, my words and my thoughts.
Although I have been sporadic at best, I wish I were not.
The longer I stall, the less I will write.
(I never quite finished the Carol Burnett entry that night!)
I read P.G. Wodehouse's "Code of the Woosters."
My review would be insufficient and Jeeves needs no booster.
I find myself saying "Yes, Sir," as a symptom of that character's style.
Though explaining the book's humor would take a good while -
Wodehouse's laughs are intricate in scope, linking to other stories he wrote.
The situations are invariably over the top, Bertie digs his own graves, then blindly flops.
Jeeves rescues his Master, though I can't figure why -
The butler is so brilliant, "What ties him to Bertie's side?"
The stakes are so high, Bertie Wooster is always on the brink of disaster.
Jeeves always comes through with a last minute plaster.
Augustus Fink-Nottle is my favorite part, a newty nerd who is feckless and has a good heart.
Madeline is a dreamer, all up in the clouds. She spouts poetry (which creeps Wooster out).
Former Regional Justice, Mr. Bassett suspects that Wooster is a criminal
(among other defects). Aunt Agatha is sharp, with her hunting horn yell.
But is now relegated to writing a ladies paper, which sells rather well.
Uncle Tom is paranoid and craves silver of old.
Bertie adores them, if only for Anatole.
That cook is an artist, beyond all compare.
To eat at Anatole's table is a delight akin to heavenly stairs.
When exiled from Agatha's estate and the food served there,
Bertie is flummoxed, and feels like a man without air.
Enough about Wodehouse! Though I hope you enjoyed this.
My readers, so dear, to have your attention is pure bliss!
I am reading the bio to Alison Arngrim. She played Nellie, the Little House villain...
Her childhood was maimed by distracted Mom and Dad.
Her older brother abused her, in a manner quite sad.
That brother was a teen idol, a heartthrob of 15 minutes in the sun.
But also a druggie, a sadist, who brooded like a melancholy hun.
Alison got her break in the Little House on the Prairie run.
She befriended Melissa Gilbert, or "Laura." "Mary" on set was the diva-ous one.
The book is told very tongue-in-cheek, "Nellie" gave Alison a role in life to defend.
Her character taught Alison how to stand strong, her brother no longer could deal her wrong.
The show itself was a story behind the scenes - heaviest dresses when the sun came down in molten beams. When winter arrived on set, however, the costumes were not designed for the weather! To shoot ahead of time, Michael Landon would plan - seasons in advance.
(He was a hardworking man.)
The makeup and hairstylists were rulers of backstage - no fighting or frowns allowed in the territory, or glares of rage.
Alison befriended these workers and was awed - these were the best in the business, their workmanship without flaws. Some did Marilyn Monroe's makeup and Bette Davis' hair!
Alison's famous curls cost a pretty dime - the most expensive hairpiece in TV at the time.
(With the faux hair came excruciating pain, each time Alison moved, the pins dug into her natural mane).
That is all that I've read, all that I gleaned.
Hopefully, my readers, my next post has better sheen.

One last piece of verse
As it is my tradition
Hope you enjoyed this!

Carol Burnett

Carol Burnett - "Laughter & Reflections"

This biography is a series of anecdotes from the 70's variety show host. It began with her fascination with Jimmy Stewart and ends with the death of her daughter. She received her big break to travel to New York on funds provided by a generous benefactor in her California hometown. The benefactor specified that s/he remain nameless and that Carol would help other young stars blossom in the future.

Once in New York, Carol joined an actor's apartment commune for struggling females. She had to share a room with four other women. She applied for a part-time job as a hat-check person at a local tea cafe and funded her rent and clothing with the proceeds. She was persistent in the "cattle call" auditioning process - sing a few bars while the casting director is quick with "Next!" through a megaphone. Her big idea came in having a communal Dress with the other four women. This Dress would be loud in color and forgiving in body types - it would set the wearer apart in the cattle calls.

However, those cattle calls were not her ultimate destiny. An agent gave her the idea to write her own play, using her building's hopeful actresses as the cast and inviting directors and producers as their audience. Her homemade play exhibited the skills and possibilities of the young women and gained them a foothold in the industry's inner workings. She soon married her Cali boyfriend who had followed her with equal dreams- his was to be a NY producer. Carol's big break came in her role for Once Upon A Mattress, a Princess and the Pea reiteration with a twist. It gained her the attention of Lucille Ball, who befriended Carol after the show with a promise to "be there for a guest or reference if ever needed." And Lucille was as good as her word when Carol was in a pinch, taking time away from her one-woman driven "Lucy Show."
Carol wanted to do more with her career, so she hired a writer for a comedy routine. Her breakout hit was singing about her love for a droll politician during the nationwide Elvis fever. The song won her a "Flavor of the Week" media attention and gained her a following to see her show in the theatre.
Unfortunately, she got cocky - she bombed one night to a polite crowd, and fell hard. It taught her to not think too much of herself as a given hit before a show even started.
She broke into TV with "The Gerry Moore Show," in which she learned that the star need not hog the jokes or the spotlight. Mr. Moore knew his limitations and delegated one-liners and roles to others for the good of the show. Carol is still fond of her time there and wishes that the "Gerry Moore Show" could have been preserved on DVD collections - its turn-off was that the episodes were filmed in black and white. It was on this show that she saw Gerry's manner of warming up the audience with an open Q&A, an aspect of her show that made her famous later on in life.

I will update this
Tomorrow is here at twelve
To bed I will fly...

The Leap and Little Darlings

The Leap, by Jonathan Stroud

This was a book that I began on a road trip near the start of the month. I just finished it tonight. As previously stated, I throughly enjoy Stroud's Bartimaeus Series for its humor and wit. The Leap was on of Stroud's first novels and, as with Buried Fire, it reflects more of things to come rather than the voice of Stroud's recent work. The protagonist of this novel is Charlie, a young girl whose best friend, Max, died in a tragic well accident. Her story is that while Max was picking plums from an overhanging tree, his eyes became dazed and fascinated by what he saw within the mill well below and jumped in the pool. Charlie was alarmed by Max's behavior and dived in to rescue her friend. According to her account, Max was taken by two green haired maidens who drew him towards the bottom of the well. Charlie tries to call for her friend underwater, and gains the attention of a third maiden who beckons her downward. Charlie aborts her rescue attempt and starts back towards the surface. The third maiden scratches Charlie's leg during her ascent, angered by Charlie's refusal to join Max.

Charlie is hospitalized for her trauma and her outrageous story - obviously she was disturbed by the death of Max and concocted the story as a coping mechanism. Charlie's mother is a nervous hoverer who thrives on stoking petty arguments into dramatic events. Charlie's older brother, James, is unsure of how to handle his sister's situation and makes himself available for her support.

Charlie keeps her first story to herself, sure that Max is not truly dead, but lost to this world. Soon, Charlie begins a dream saga for her friend in a fairy world, each night walking and tracking her friend's progress. In her dreams, she meets Kit in the forest, a man who promises her aid in finding her friend - as a newcomer, Max will be drawn to the Great Fair, in which he will join a dance of welcome that will purge the memories of his previous life and make him a full inhabitant of that world. Kit advises Charlie to visit the places that Max enjoyed in life to aid in her finding him in the dream country. Max had been accepted through a portal to the fairy land, one of few remaining on earth. Since Charlie entered the portal but turned back, she is between the worlds.

James grows concerned for Charlie - she cries out during the night and wakes with wounds from her nocturnal mission for Max. Charlie keeps a dream journal, chronicling her progress in her pursuit, and James is curious as to its contents. One night, Charlie wakes to find her dream world merged with the waking reality, her search grows ever more urgent. The reader is questioned whether Charlie is delusional in her dreams or really part of both worlds. If so, which reality will lay claim to her life? And will her quest to join Max to end in her own death?

Little Darlings, by Sam Llewellyn

This was a paperback I discovered at the library. With the tagline "A very good book about very bad children." I was intrigued and hooked. The story did not disappoint - Three children named Daisy, Primrose, and Cassian are the children of a business tycoon who does not pay them heed. Their real mother disappeared shortly after Cassian was a toddler, and a new trophy was added to Mr. Darling's mounted animal heads shortly afterward. This mysterious trophy was entitled as a piece of the Royal Edward and "Bear's bum" was scrawled underneath. The children had run off 18 nannies in their career - and with the last one's departure, Mr. Darling found himself blacklisted by the Nanny society. With a party to attend in a half an hour deadline, Mr. Darling rings the AAA Aardvark Children Minding and Security Company and gains an appointment from the independent entity. Ten minutes later, a sleek Jaguar pulls up and Nanny Pete enters the Darling household, changing the children's lives forever.

Nanny Pete is nice to the Darling children, ordering Chinese and Pizza for the Darling's first experience of tasting such food. As Nanny Pete tucked them into bed, Cassian managed to frisk Nanny Pete's keys and duplicate the Jag's ignition requirement. The children sneak down to the Jaguar, only to have Pete stumble though the front door laden with the Darling's jewelry and trophies. AAA aardvark is a front for an organization of Old World thieves who love children. Daisy, Primrose and Cassian find themselves on the USS Kleptomaniac, surrounded by thieves of every sort. And they stubbornly refuse to leave the ship, so the lovely lady captain of the ship assigns Daisy, as she is experienced with nanny comportment, to train the thieves to be more convincing nannies. Cassian loves engines, so he works in the ship's boiler room; Primrose is an excellent cook and experiments in the ship's kitchens. All of the Darlings are delighted by their new and exciting roles, but inquire as to why the thieves operate as a nanny agency. The captain explains that her crew of robbers cannot operate in this new technological world - they are too moralized to perform simple muggings to innocent people. Logically, only rich and careless parents have a need for nannies. It is a clean bargain - the children get a night of pleasure from a willing and kindly thief, and the thieves make out with a lot of loot without feeling undue guilt.

Only one problem - the White Van Dan, the leader of the Builder's Guild of the City. As soon as the AAA aardvark Jaguar is spotted by a construction worker, he phones Dan to report on the destination. But, as builders never show up on time, they are usually late to the scene. The builders demolish the estate and take whatever is left in the wreckage, then get the contract to build a new estate. The object of both White Van Dan and AAA aardvark's searching is a fair share of a certain bear. The "Bear's bum" that the Darlings owned was a piece from the Royal Edward, the only teddy bear of its kind to make its way into the public marketplace. The designer of the Royal Edward only made the stuffed toys available to royalty, and the monarchical families guarded their prize teddy bears jealously. The Royal Edward was stolen from the ruling family of Iceland in the revolutionary overthrow. When put up for sale in a private auction attended by rich people, the final decision was contested and the bear was ripped apart in the chaos that followed. For some reason, both the AAA aardvark society and the White Van Dan are fighting over the seven pieces. The burglars know the families that possess a piece and wait for the parents to call them for child care.

All the rich and nannied families have ingenious, bored, and mischievous children who devise clever means to entertain themselves at their nannies' expense. Daisy quickly finds herself slipping into a nannyish mode with her new responsibilities of training, and her younger siblings are alarmed - will she become one of the enemy?

Overall, Little Darlings was a highly lighthearted and entertaining book for me to read and it is highly recommended. The Leap is beautifully done, but is not as easily tied up and accessible as the Bartimaeus series. The Leap's ending is ethereal and starry and while lovely, is unreachable to me, feels both deep and empty when I finished it. (The Leap is an appropriate title).

Now I must rest soon

Tomorrow I will begin

Second Semester