Saturday, November 27, 2010

Zombie Apology

It has been a very long time since I posted anything.  To make up for it, I will do some freewriting involving zombies.

It was a dark and stormy night.  Rain pelted the windshield, refusing to let me sleep.  On and on and on.  I needed to sleep, why wouldn't it let me sleep?  I NEED SLEEP, LET ME SLEEP, YOU STUPID RAIN!


Calm down.  It's only rain.  It's not doing this to you on purpose, it doesn't know that you have to sleep to keep up your energy so you can fight.

Well, while you're up, you might as well clean your weapons, no one likes a bloody axe, after all.  That makes sense.  I climb into the back of the pickup truck and pick up my axe.  I named it Maybel.  Maybel has decapitated several undead monsters in the past few days.  Good Maybel.

Everyone else is alseep.  That's not surprising; we had a right good fight today. 

BAM!!  Zombie at the window, we're all awake now.  John starts the car and we drive off.

We ride in silence.  It's not awkward, though.  We all have so much to think about that we don't mind silence so much anymore.  I'm thinking about the last time I ate.  It was probably at least two days ago.  We haven't been able to stop for food lately, you know, with the ZOMBIES and everything.  Goodness, I'm hungry.  What I wouldn't give for a feast, a real feast.  Something spectacular, with beef and turkey and pie and potatoes and carrots and more pie.  Wait a minute...

We missed Thanksgiving.

How could we have missed Thanksgiving?  It is one of the greatest food holidays of all time!  Plus, we have plenty to be thankful for:  we're alive, aren't we?

"John, we missed Thanksgiving."
"We missed Thanksgiving."
"And that's important because....?"
"Because we freaking missed Thanksgiving!  We  missed turkey!  We missed PIE!"
"Are you completely insane?"
"We need to stop and find food.  We are going to have a proper feast."
"You want me to stop the truck, so that you can go outside, at night, in the middle of a zombie infestation, to look for food.  Is that correct?"
"You are crazy."
"John, we need to have Thanksgiving."
"I'm not stopping the truck."

At this point, everyone in the truck is pretty distressed because I brought up Thanksgiving and John is being a total jerk and not stopping the truck.  Stella looks like she has half a mind to stop the truck herself.  Marcus is looking mournfully down at his belly.  Titan is walking around in circles wimpering.  He's a dog, so he doesn't understand English, but I'm pretty sure he knows that we're arguing about getting food.

John is being a total jerk.

Was that a turkey?  I thought I saw a wild turkey out the window. 

"John, stop right now.  STOP STOP STOP!!!"

John slams on the brakes. 

"What, what is it?"

It's too late to stop me.  I have seen food with my own eyes, and it will be mine.  I will kill it with my bare hands if need be.  I quickly cover the distance between me and the turkey, visions of stuffing dancing in my head.

Immediately, I know that something is wrong.  There is something weird about this turkey.  It didn't even try to run, and it's not struggling right now.  Plus its eyes, it has weird, milky looking eyes.  Are it's feathers falling out?  What the heck?  Then it hits me:

Zombie turkey.

Needless to say, I high-tailed it out of there.  Now there is zombie poultry?  What is this world coming to?  All I wanted was Thanksgiving.


Yeah, so I didn't know how to end that.  Maybe I will do some more freewriting with zombies later.

Thursday, November 18, 2010

Not a Good Way to Start the Day

I usually start my day by being gently nudged into consciousness by some lovely classical music (Rachmaninov, of course.)

Today was not a usual day.

My alarm went off at its usual time, and I turned it down so I could sleep longer, like I usually do.  This is where the usual-ness ends.  I was torn from sleep at 6:30 this morning by a combination of my cat incessantly whining at my door and Adam Lambert screaming at my from my sisters' bedroom ("IF I HAD YOU, THAT WOULD BE THE ONLY THING I'D EVER NEED!" Sorry, Adam Lambert, I'm just not that in to you.  Plus, I'm sleepy.)

I do not usually get up at 6:30 A.M.  This is not good for me.  I spent the next half hour trying to get back to sleep, but I only succeeded in giving myself some bizarre waking dreams.  I also think that the scary Voldemort toy salesmen who held me captive in his basement in my dream yesterday was in my dream last night, which only makes things worse.

Sunday, November 14, 2010

Harry Potter Weekend Makes Me Think Strange Things

I was watching Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban today.  You know the part where Harry, Ron and Hermione are on the train to Hogwarts and the train stops and a Dementor comes in and is all "Mind if I suck your soul?  You do?  Too bad."  and then it goes all soul-suck-y and Harry passes out?  Yeah.  Well, here's what I think should have happened:

*Train stops moving*
Hermione:  Why is the train stopping?  We can't be there yet.
*Lights go out*
Hermione:  Yeah, I'm going to lock the compartment door.  Just to be safe.  *locks door*
*Windows start frosting over and Dementor comes to the door*
Dementor:  *tries to open door, but can't because it is locked*
Harry, Ron and Hermione:  *stare at Dementor*
Dementor:  *knocks*  Hey, could you guys let me in?
Harry:  Sorry.  Whatever it is you're selling, we don't want any.
Dementor:  No, I'm not selling anything...
Hermione:  Um, we're not home right now, but if you could leave a message, we'll get back to you.
Dementor:  I know you're in there.  I can see you.  It is a glass door.
Ron:  No hablo espanol.
Dementor:  What?

Then they would ignore Dementor and Dementor would go away.  The End.

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

The Great Rambling Wednesday

Today was the last of the Quiz Bowl meets.  It was held at my school's sports rival (but sports rivalries don't really matter in Quiz Bowl or band.)  Anyway, at every Quiz Bowl meet, there is a buffet of delicious goodies.  Rival High had their buffet of delicious goodies in their library.  When you enter the library to partake in the deliciousness, you are confronted with this sight:

I call fail.

On with the story.

When we finished partaking in the wonderous delights of the buffet, we went to the rooms where the matches would be held.  In our first match, there was a guy who had a varsity jacket for Quiz Bowl, band and something else that I can't remember.  What I do remember, though, is that he is also a Drum Major.  I was wearing my band t-shirt, which has Drum Major written across the sholders, and I really wanted to show him, but I felt that it would be slightly creepy and weird, so I didn't.  Anyway, the rest of the meet went on and we won all of our matches.  The end. 

Or is it?

Obviously not, because I'm still writing.

After our meet, we went out to eat.  I rode with my friend, the Professor.  We had a grand old time.  When we got to the restaurant, (okay, it was more than likely a bar.  What do you expect?  The region I live in was founded by Germans and the Irish) I went to the bathroom, where the water mysteriously flowed diagonally out of the faucet.  When I got back to the table, we all ordered our food.

Our coach (yes, there is a coach for Quiz Bowl) bought us appetizers.  Before they came, the waitress brought us some sauces to dip things in.  This is what I saw:

It is, quite obviously, a face.

Anyway, we had wonderful dinner conversations about not committing murder at the dinner table (murder should only be committed at the murder table.  Dinner can, however, occasionally be served at the murder table.)  We also talked about how I could kill people with my knitting needles.

On the ride home, I rode with the Professor again.  Here is a slightly paraphrased recounting of part of our conversation:

The Professor: Those are leaves.  I would drive through them, but I don't know what's underneath them.  There could be small children.
Me: Or worse, gremlins.  Or, even worse, small gremlins.
The Professor:  Yeah, it's the small gremlins you've got to watch out for.  People think it's the big gremlins, but no, it's the little ones.  Silly gremlins
Me: Trix are for kids
The Professor:  You think they want Trix, but they're really after your organs!

We laughed, then went on to talk about zombie deer (hide your grass!) and how Dead End Gulch would be a sweet name for and old-timey western town and how Chuck Norris punches with his feet and kicks with his fists.

It was a grand old time.

Then we went to the Youth Center, where I played Kumcha with my friends (the Stellar Miss Moon, The Great Bobini, the King of Marching Band [he actually prefers "Archbishop of Marching Band"] and Mother Duck.) and all was merry and bright.

The end.

For reals this time.

Scout's honor.  (You can't see it, but I'm doing the scout finger holdey-uppey thing.)

Monday, November 8, 2010

Humiliation Smells Like Pizza (Alternate Title: Carol of the Buzzers)

As was mentioned in my first post, I am in Quiz Bowl (Pony league Jeopardy!, remember?).  Anyway, at my school, our final practice of the year (yes, we have practice for Quiz Bowl) pits all of the Quiz Bowl members against some of the teachers.  We do this every year, and we almost always lose.  But, Fanny, you ask, how could a group of specially-trained, super-awesome smart people possibly be beaten by a mere handful of teachers?  Well, I'll tell you.  It's not really the group of teachers so much as the one teacher.  The science teacher, Mr. Science.

Mr. Science is one of my favorite teachers, and I'm really sad that I don't have any of his classes this year, but  I wouldn't mind if he missed the Quiz Bowl v. Teachers scrimmage.  Why, you ask?  Again, I shall tell you.  It is because Mr. Science is a beast when it comes to Quiz Bowl.  He knows everything.  Plus, he's fast.  Competing with him is like competing with a lightning bolt of pure intelligence.  You cannot win.

At the end of the match, Mr. Science is always triumphant and the Quiz Bowl team is left humiliated while we stand in shock with our brains dripping our of our noses because it's that bad.

Anyway, after we are shamed into the ground, we get pizza.  Some school organization pays for it.  I can't remember which one it is, but I know that we get pizza, and that the price of pizza is humiliation.  Does that sound like a fair trade to you?

Yes, yes it does.

Pizza rocks.

Friday, November 5, 2010

What the Heck, Toy Story 3?

Today, I went over to my friend's house to watch Toy Story 3 with a few people.  We were all thinking "Yay!  Toy Story 3!  This is going to be great!"  WRONG.  It sucked.  It was one of the worst experiences ever.

Don't get me wrong, I didn't think that the movie was bad (it was actually very good), but the whole thing made me very upset and I almost cried.  What the heck, Toy Story?  You used to be awesome and you left me feeling great about myself, now I feel like my childhood is dead and that I need to give away all of my toys to some mysterious stranger.  

I don't want to give my toys to some mysterious stranger.  Not even if she is adorable.

Whatever.  I'm going to go eat chocolate and watch cartoons and try to get over the emotional trauma of having my childhood nearly stolen from me by Disney.  Seriously, what is wrong with them?

P.S.-There were some weird noises coming from the back of my car tonight (actually, it's my dad's car, but whatever).  My sister (Sister A) thinks it was just a rock, but I know better.  It's probably Lotso Love, that stupid bear, or the monkey.  Hopefully not the monkey, because the monkey is kind of freaky.

P.P.S-My car also made another noise, which was definitely NOT a rock, so it was almost definitely an evil teddy bear and/or monkey.

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

First Impressions-They're Important. Especially if You Don't Want to be a Serf.

First impressions are very important.  You and I, as well as many others, know this.  Some people, however, seem to have missed the information train when it comes to first impressions.  Today was a fine example.

This morning, I was in the library talking to my friends, waiting for the bell to ring, signifying that the dreaded class day had begun.  When it did, we all filed into the hallway where the lockers are.

I was walking with my good friend, the Wonderful Miss Funshine to her locker, as per usual. When we got to her locker, we hugged before parting ways, like we always do.

There is a new kid in our school.  I don't know his name, so we will call him New Kid.  New Kid had never said anything to me before this morning.  When I stopped to hug the Wonderful Miss Funshine, he yelled at me (actually, he probably wasn't yelling at anyone in particular, it was probably one of those weird things that you're supposed to say quietly to yourself when you're too chicken to actually confront someone, only he said it really loudly.  Anyway, back to the story).  He said, and I quote: "Jeez, woman!  Stop right in front of me in the hallway, why don't you?"

Why don't I, indeed.

Now, as you may or may not have noticed, my name is not "woman," and I do not enjoy being referred to as such.  So, naturally, I got a little angry.  I thought about enacting some horribly vicious revenge, like calling him a jerk, but I was still with the Wonderful Miss Funshine, and she brightens my day, so I didn't.  He probably doesn't even realize just how close he came to inciting the wrath of a 5 foot 5 former Girl Scout.

But, seriously, "woman?"  I have a name, you know.  What are you going to do next, New Kid?  Huh?  Are you going to demand that I "make you a sammich?"  Because I won't.  Not even if you say please.  That's how mad I am about this.  I freaking love sandwiches, but I wouldn't make you one even if you begged me.  Maybe you could have the scraps from the one that I would make for my dog before I made one for you, because my dog is freaking awesome and you can't even compare so you can just shut up.

What was I saying, again?

Oh, right.  "Woman."

Seriously, though, that's pretty disrespectful.  Especially since New Kid is a freshman or something (I think.  He's definitely a freshman or a sophomore.  I'm pretty sure he's a freshman though.) and I am a junior.  I had no opinion about New Kid before this little incident.  Now, because of his horrible first impression, he irks me.  And by irking me, he pretty much ruined any chance he had of being in my favor when I take over America with the little old ladies when the country's infrastructure collapses (it'll be any day now, just you wait.)  So, yeah, he pretty much doomed himself to a life of serfdom in my glorious new kingdom, just by making a poor first impression.    So, to sum up: poor first impression=life as lowly peasant without rights under the rule of little old ladies, and me, the Amazing Miss Fantastic.  I hope this shows you just how important first impressions are.  If not, well, I could always use more serfs for my kingdom.

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

The Amazing Miss Fantastic

Hello, my name is the Amazing Miss Fantastic, but you can call me Fanny.  I suppose Missy or Amy would work as well, but they just aren't as funny sounding.  I thought I would share a few things about myself so that all you strangers could get to know me.  Break out you best social smile, and let's get started!
1.  I live in America
2.  I like music
3.  I'm not particularly fond of sports
4.  I'm Drum Major in my marching band
5.  I have many siblings
6.  I have even more cousins
7.  I also have a dog and a cat
8.  My mom has two cats, which makes me worry about her sometimes
9.  I am in Quiz Bowl (for those who don't know, it's like minor league Jeopardy!   Actually, no.  QuizBusters is like minor league Jeopardy!, quiz bowl is more like pony league.)
10.  I'm also in student council (like anyone cares)
11.  I like to read
12.  I also like to write.
13.  Thirteen is my favorite number
14.  In case you haven't deduced this, I am social outcast, of sorts.
15.  I like to watch TV
16.  Some of my favorite shows are (in no particular order): Psych, Invader ZIM, Avatar: the Last Airbender, Teen Titans, The Soup, Mythbusters and Phineas and Ferb
17.  I play the trombone in the band mentioned in #4.  I also play a little guitar.  Mostly, though, I sing.
18.  I'm running out of things to say (can you tell?)
My, my.  Look at the time.  I'm so sorry, I really must be going.  Well, that you for listening.  It was wonderful speaking with you.  Perhaps we can do this again?  Wonderful.