I Just Can't Stop Writing

The In Joke #7

Never gonna ask my sister about her day ever again.

The In Joke #8

Which is the man and which is the mask, hm? And Stebbins is such a funny name.

I blame--dedicate this cartoon to my sister.

V for Victory

A for Arrival. Or Accomplishment. I've made it home and so the summer begins.

7:30 yesterday morning (Kansas Time) I checked out of my apartment and got on the shuttle to the airport. Got there about 8:30 for my flight that was boarding at 9:50. I was down with that. A little nap would be nice before I got on the plane, since I'd been up very late the night before. So I catnap in the lounge until 9:50 rolls around and they announce . . .

Flight Delayed.

Okay, I can handle that. There's a lightning storm going on between here and my layover destination, Dallas, and the plane can't fly through it. The speakers tell us that our flight will board at 11:15. Okay. Sooo, 11:00 rolls around and they announce over the speakers that . . .

Flight Delayed. Boarding at 12:00.

I call home to tell my mom I still haven't made it out of Kansas, even though I should have been in Texas by now, and thereby halfway home.

12:00 the lady behind the desk speaks into the microphone to tell use that the flight will begin boarding at 1:00. Everyone in the lounge laughs. We hadn't really expected them to keep their word. They still didn't keep their 1:00 promise, since we suddenly began boarding at about 12:15. Finally.

Oh, but this was not the end of the nightmare for me! While my connecting flight had also been delayed, the stewardess had no information about when or where it was. So the moment I was in Dallas I dashed to the monitors to check the flight information, hoping I would have time for lunch and a bathroom break. It was 2:44. The monitor told me my flight departed at 2:40 and was fifteen terminals away.

I zoomed through that airport like anything. Towing my little carry on bag I passed anyone, weaving my way through the crowds of travelers, leaving them all in the dust. I got to my terminal at 2:48. I asked a guy in line if my flight had left yet. He told me they had just done last boarding call. I gasped. Out loud. Loud enough for the lady behind the desk to take notice.

"Ontario flight?" she asked. I nodded and she grabbed my ticket, torn it and handed the stub back to me. She pulled the door open and said, "Go, run!" I did, saying, "Thank you very much!" as I vanished into the distance.
So, I made it. Without a second to spare.

My luggage, however, was not so fortunate. It decided to take a different flight out of Dallas so that it would arrive hours after I did. This required me to go back to the airport later that evening and retrieve the bag.

I feel so tired.

Procrastination at its Finest

Tomorrow I have to: Turn in my take home Graphic Design History test, go over my Graphic Design Portfolio, do my Literature presentation, and turn in my final painting.

Due to the influences of my History of Graphic Design assignment, I have switched my typeface from Arial, to Verdana. Arial is a cheap ripoff of Helvetica, which is an oft-used typeface, liked for it's comfortable neutrality. Arial made a few minor changes and then marketed it as something completely unlike Helvetica, but you can use in any instance when you need Helvetica! Verdana was created explicitly for legible type on computer monitors. Also, in hope of routing the evil Arial font.

Helvetica: God of Typeface.

Arial: Satan of Typeface.
Verdana: Potential Savior of Typeface.

Is basically how my paper breaks down.

Tonight, when my roommates hear me screaming in my sleep (as I am wont to do) . . . well, I probably won't actually be asleep. Whimper.

Excuse me as I go into a denial tangent. Why the heck doesn't anyone comment on my blog? I have exactly ONE comment and it's from my mother. Happy Mother's Day, by the way, and Happy Birthday. I painted a picture of all of us kids, but you might not like how I did it all in earth tones.

Okay, just took a loonng pause there and did a whole chunk of work on my GD history paper. So, what say you, International, Postmodern, or Contemporary typeface style? I thought so. I'm going to Postmodern, Psychedelic.

I WILL GET THIS DONE. I WILL PREVAIL.

Pray for me.

Prepare for a Fate Worse than Death

No, the title is not a references to finals week which begins oh too soon. It is a warning to my dearly beloved sister. See that picture? The Joker is in a cell being interrogated by the police. Then the police leave for a minute and Batman comes out of the shadows. In this image Joker has an expression of, "Hey, I think I hear a ninja coming." This thought will be quickly followed by Joker's head meeting the tabletop in painful impact.

*

So, in this setup my sister is The Joker and I am Batman. Meaning I get to pummel her mercilessly all over town.

Why does she deserve this, you wonder? Did she, perhaps, rob a bank and make her getaway in a school bus? Or maybe she set a firetruck on . . . fire. Then again, she might have blown up a hospital. None of these. This was a crime that the law can't reach . . .

*

It was four in the morning. I had been up late, getting stuff done, and it felt as if I had just drifted off to sleep. Also, I only had three more hours of sleep time left. Then, in the stillness of the early morning hours . . . my cellphone begins to vibrate on the far end of the desk; out of my reach.

Bzzzzzzzzz.

Figuring it is a wrong number (it was 4am, for goodness's sake!) I let it ring and hang up. I turn over and settle down again.

Bzzzzzzzzz.

Ignore it. Ignore it. I pull the blanket over my head. It stops. Realizing it might be an emergency at home, I reach over and pick up the phone. There is one voicemail message on it. I dial my voicemail and listen to the message.

*

It would seem my dearly beloved sister had gone to the midnight showing of X-men Origins: Wolverine. Since she is going to a college in a time zone two hours behind, it was 2am there. The message was somewhat incoherent. Maybe I was just too sleepy to understand. I caught "awesome!" "epic" and "Deadpool! Deadpool! Deadpool!"

Okay, whatever. I put the phone down and adjust my pillow for maximum comfort.

Bzzzzzzzzz.

I pick up and say in a tired, annoyed voice, "Hello?"

My sister, brilliant, asks in tones of realization, "Oh, did I wake you up?"

What does she think I do at four in the bloody morning? Play solitaire?

*

So, be forewarned, endearing sibling, and prepare for a Bat-Beating.

Too bad she never reads this blog.