Category Archives: Creative

Ode to the Shower

Dear Shower,

Oh, where to begin? Shall I write a flowery intro? Or just cut to the chase?

Well then. Since no flowery intro has come to me, I shall simply tell you how I feel.

I love you, Shower. You’re the best friend anyone could ask for. You’re always warm and inviting, ready to wash away the dirt and grime of the day’s events. You’re ok with me singing OneDirection at the top of my lungs when we’re hanging out. Not many people would put up with that, but you do. That’s what I love about you, Shower, you’re so tolerant and non-judgemental. You don’t care if I’m covered in horse manure or if I have paintball schrapnel in my hair. It’s so refreshing to be with someone like you. You accept me for who I am, dirt and all.

-Anna

Now if I was to make this spiritual, I could say that Jesus is the same way. Because He is (except for the tolerant and non-judgemental bit… but let’s not get into politics here.) He accepts us for who we are, dirt, slime, paint, et al., and He washes us clean and renews us daily.

Fact of Life: Yoga pants are God’s way of telling us that, no matter how bad things get, He loves us.

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A bit of music

I’m currently stewing on some stuff that may take a while to get posted. So in the meantime, here’s a video of my string quartet playing some nice music.

Yeah, that’s kinda cheap. Two video posts in a row. Like I said, I’m working on *gasp* actually writing something, but it won’t be done for a while. Hopefully I can finish it up and post it in a week or two…

Anyways, enjoy the music! We had fun performing it…

Yay.

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Hello Again…

…So nothing new has been posted here in a long time. I wonder whose fault that is. Mine? Right, anyways.

So now to remedying that. I was going to post a memo that A sent me, but that involved a slightly racist comment and didn’t make a whole lot of sense anyways. Apparently it was written after watching too much tv too late….moving on.

So here’s a video of my brother and I playing music. That came out of nowhere. But it’s kind of interesting and it’s a big part of why there’s not been a lot of time for writing. Enjoy!

I was going to award bonus points for scrolling down (and hopefully watching the video…*hint* *hint*), but I couldn’t think of a prize.

Wow, I just used comic sans. Please don’t kill me.

I’m done now. Really.

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Christmas

I’ve come to notice a few things about Christmas over the years. Generally, I’m the designated present-wrapper of everything except my own presents, so I’ve learned a few things about the procedure of wrapping. First, you must obtain all the necessary ingredients: the gift, paper, tape, and scissors. Without any one of these items, you might as well just hand your loved one a mangled glob of fish food. Just so you know for years to come, here is the proper procedure for wrapping a Christmas present.

1) Obtain the gift which is to be wrapped.

2) Obtain the paper which is to cover said gift.

3) Obtain the tape which is to hold said paper around said gift.

4) Obtain the scissors which cut said paper to size.

5) Unroll an amount of paper proportional to the gift to be wrapped.

6) Cut the paper to the desired size. Preferably long enough to completely cover the gift.

7) Place the paper face (decorated side) down on the floor or other wrapping surface.

8) Place the gift face down in the approximate center of the paper.

9) Take two opposing sides of the paper and bring them together over the top of the gift

10) Work some jedi mind tricks with the paper.

11) Cover the whole thing in tape.

And there you have it. If you want, you could add decorations such as ribbons, bows, or glitter.

Another thing I learned on Christmas was that it is very important to know the songs you are supposed to be singing if you’re leading worship in church. Bad things happen if you don’t know two of the songs in the Christmas program if your face is in front of a microphone and you’re supposed to be singing words. To a tune you don’t know. Yeah. Practice first, kids.

Also, sugar makes you fat. Unless you run around from the incredible high it gives you. Then you might not get fat from it. Bottom line, eat sugar. Preferably in the form of cookies. But pie is good too. And also so is eggnog.

It seems like I had more Christmas-y things to write about, but I’ve gone and forgotten them all. So I guess I’ll wrap up by saying that none of the above really matters if you don’t have the entire purpose of the holiday in mind, and that is the birth of Jesus Christ. Without Him, we wouldn’t have Christmas day, and life as we know it would be a race to death. It would be utterly pointless. Thankfully, though, Jesus stepped into this messy world and intervened. So while you’re enjoying all the baked deliciousness and electronic gizmos, stop to remember the original Christmas gift. It wasn’t pretty. It wasn’t wrapped as nicely as you know how to do after reading that handy guide. But it was amazing.

Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign. Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel.

(Isaiah 7:14 ESV)

Merry (day after) Christmas!

Mini rant: Has anyone noticed that the song Last Christmas plays EVERY YEAR? “Laaaaaast Christmas, I gave you my heart/ but the very next day, you gave it away/ so thiiiiiis year, to save me from tears/ I’ll give it to someone special…” Every. Year. You’d think the crooners behind this song would get the idea that perhaps Christmas romances aren’t so awesome, considering the fact that they get dumped every single time. Has anyone else noticed this?

Walter.

Once upon a time, there was an octopus who loved hyperbole. His favorite pastime was to sit around and spin long yarns about most anything. His second favorite pastime was to say hyperbole as many times as he could, because he loved the way it rolled off his tongue. (note, I had planned to strike this out by saying that octopuses don’t have tongues. Turns out they do. Humor attempt: thwarted.) Oh, wait, octopuses can’t sit. And it’s octopi. 

Once upon a time, there was an elephant who loved hyperbole. His favorite pastime was to sit around and spin long yarns about most anything. His second favorite pastime was to say hyperbole as many times as he could, because he loved the way it rolled off his tongue. This elephant’s name was Walter. Because of his tendency to tell tall tales, Walter was rather short on friends. You see, Walter’s peers did not share his appreciation for certain literary devices, and with good reason: they were animals. Animals can’t appreciate literature. Walter was rarely invited to parties anymore because of his habit of honing his hyperbolic handiness. However, he continued to collect his creative capabilities to conceive more compositions of colorful capacity. He often practiced his delivery in the woods, to make sure that his stories were as absurd and hilarious as he could make them. Though he seemed satisfied spending much of his time making up stories, Walter yearned for more. He wanted an audience. He wanted someone to appreciate his efforts. Soon, Walter became discouraged. He stopped practicing his deliveries. No one wanted to hear his tales anyway. Finally, he gave up entertaining even himself with his exaggerations. He used his trunk to burrow a hole in the ground, and when it was finished, he crawled inside it and hid, keeping only his trunk above ground for air. The sky began to rain. One drop landed at precisely the perfect spot on a leaf, and a tiny tree frog came tumbling down from high atop a tree and landed squarely on Walter’s trunk. This spooked Walter terribly, so that he jumped up from his hole in the ground, leaving behind a massive crater. The tree frog managed to hang on to Walter’s trunk, and he stayed there clinging for dear life until Walter noticed him.

“Why, hello, tiny toad. To what do I owe this surprise visit from such a petite reptile as yourself?” Asked Walter.

“T-t-t-t-t-titus is m-m-m-m-my name, s-s-s-sir. I-i-i-i-i’ve got, a t-tendency to stutter-ter-ter.” Walter gazed at Titus for a moment, mesmerized. Here was a minute tree frog, but he contained all the rapping power of Eminem and Jay-Z without all the swearing and crude content! This was brilliant! Titus glanced down, obviously ashamed of his imperfection. Walter’s mind began to spin at all the possibilities for greatness. With his literary genius combined with Titus’s hip hop prowess, the duo could be unstoppable! They set to work almost immediately on writing a rap that would soon gain renown as the greatest song ever written in the history of the animal kingdom.

The lyrics were as follows:

Born on the south side of the jungle gym
Where we rumbled and raved till the rhythms went dim
He had a body mass index of four hundred and nine
While some may call it fat, I think it’s just fine
He had alliterative tendencies that troubled my peers
They’re allergic to his aphoristic anthems, I fear
He has seventeen addresses that receive hate mail
And he checks them every day so it doesn’t get stale
As you can probably imagine this routine got old
So he poured out all his patience and stuck his head in a hole
In a log lying lamely in a luminous pile
Of Kentucky Fried Chicken spanning over a mile
His appetite was fierce and this aviary grub
Burned like fire in his eyes, so attractive to that chub
But as he sank in his teeth, out of the corner of his eye
He saw a fly being swallowed by a little green guy
T-t-titus was his name and a t-tendency to stammer
Put his rapping potential up with the likes of MC Hammer
He was bound for superstardom and if you can’t already see
The r-rapper called T-t-titus was none other than m-m-me

I travel the world in my 747
I hit up the clubs where we party till eleven
In the morning when it’s light, you’d think we be gettin’ tired
But I just down another Monster so as not to expire
Now a fateful Monday morning on a maniacal Monster craze
We’d partied so hard the room was filled with purple haze
My imp-p-pediment dulled my diction down to downright disgusting
All the sugar I’d consumed had my dental fixtures rusting
So Walter and I up and quit the clubbin’ scene
Yeah we joined a monastery like those dudes from Nicene
So the moral of the story as I think I’ve made it clear
Is if you ever see an amphibious rapper come near
Enjoy your little lick of limelight ’cause it won’t last long
Then prepare yourself for a life of chanting Gregorian songs
Now here’s another line as a bonus prize:
I like Italian dressing on Slovakian french fries

No that’s not quite right…how about “Hand me the vuvuzela or i’ll poke out your eyes!”

No, no, no…”Every time you catch a fastball a Puerto Rican child dies?”

No, that’s a bit racist. Hmm…”They’re taking the hobbits to Isengard, guys!!!!”

Wait a second, that’s not very original.

All this idiotic indecision is making Anna cry.

And that was the end of the song.

Within about 2 weeks of radio play, the song had eclipsed every number 1 that has ever been released by Lady Gaga, Katy Perry, and Ke$ha, combined. It went viral all over the internet. Soon, Walter and Titus became so ridiculously famous that they had to go and hide in the rain forest to escape all the paparazzi. To ensure that they went out with a bang, Walter and Titus had wax replicas of themselves made to look like they were dead. They left the replicas in their shared apartment along with several empty bottles of pills. When Walter and Titus arrived back home in their African rain forest, they breathed a sigh of relief. They were glad to be rid of all the publicity. Coincidentally, they found the recording studio where all the “dead” artists make their music. There, they ran in to Tupac Shakur, Michael Jackson, Amy Winehouse, Kurt Cobain, and Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. Walter and Titus were offered a multi-million dollar contract with the studio, but they refused. The elephant and the frog were now officially out of the music business. They’d had their fun, but it was time to go back to being an animal again. They declined the music contract, and the two lived happily ever after as renegades in the African Rainforest, writing raps that would never be read and resting them in a red repository which was reserved in a remote region which required religious repetition of rites for reception.

-THE END-

Special thanks to Jeremiah for that EPIC rap! Also to http://www.thesaurus.com for help on the alliteration. 😀

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Infinity

Dear internet,

Mirror inception

why has no one told me about this?

Eh?

I think this is the phenomenon that inspired Inception. Seriously. It’s like there’s multiple levels of reality or something, but the further in you go, the more distorted everything gets. That probably has some deep philosophical meaning behind it, but I’m on cold pills right now so this is all open to your interpretation.

This right here is a portal to infinity! Why has no one made a big deal about it? Seriously, I think C.S. Lewis found himself trapped between two mirrors one day and that’s how he discovered Narnia. He just walked in about 7 levels, turned left, and there was Mr. Tumnus eating a carrot with Reepicheep the mouse. No lie. Then he wrote books about it and made millions of dollars.

Fact of Life: You could probably make like a bajillion and 13 dollars, just by placing 2 mirrors facing each other and confusing people. Seriously, guys. This is a big deal. I’m surprised there aren’t memes about this yet. Whoops. Just admitted I’m a nerd.

Life tip: If you have written on your hand with a Sharpie, do not fall asleep with said hand on your face. You will wake up with strange markings on your eyebrow, and you won’t be able to get it off.

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Show, Don’t Tell

The importance of using description in writing.

TELL: The cat got into the food.
SHOW: Creeping stealthily along the cracked old linoleum floor, the longhaired feline (who shared the color of his fur with a pumpkin) affectionately known only as Mr. Fluffykins positioned himself just to the left of my chair at the dinner table. For, you see, Mr. Fluffykins knew that dinner had just been served, and the meal was one of his all time favorites: crunchy herb-crusted chicken served with a light spinach side-salad topped with candied walnuts. The aroma of the herbs filled the room with a very herb-y smell. One that accented the chicken in such a way as to have nearly every cat in the neighborhood sauntering around our house in order to indulge in the mere fragrance. Mr. Fluffykins also knew that my inner plumbing was about to explode, so great was my need for a lavatory. He waited silently as the meal was blessed; his tail flicked from side to side as though making dust-angels in the floor. When the final “Amen” was stated and I burst out of my seat, Mr. Fluffykins wasted no time in inviting himself to my chair, and promptly helped himself to my meal.
TELL: The teacher disciplined the student.
SHOW: Billy never really thought of himself as a bad kid, he was just bored easily and enjoyed breaking things, especially during classes that he didn’t particularly enjoy. For this reason, Billy proceeded to cause as much of a ruckus as he possibly could during Mrs. Grüden’s science class every day. He hated the over-heated, stuffy class room, and he hated that it always smelled inexplicably of week-old gym socks mingled with the unforgettable odor of unidentified road-kill intestines. Some days, while mean old Mrs. Grüden was in the midst of another one of her lengthy, excruciatingly monotone lectures on the importance of the goo that covers the toes of the common tree frog, Billy would snap pencils in half, trying to perfect his technique so as to get the loudest crack he possibly could out of the old yellow No. 2s. When the pencil didn’t give a loud enough noise, Billy would launch the broken fragments toward the ceiling, attempting to lodge them there. Other days, when Billy had run out of pencils to snap, he would settle for carrying on multiple conversations during class. Mrs. Grüden, after weeks of enduring Billy’s disrespect, finally decided to bring him into line. She noticed that Billy no longer paid attention to even the slightest detail of her class, so she knew that he wouldn’t notice if she stopped talking for a few moments. She waited for a day when he was exceptionally obnoxious with his pencils. Finally, the perfect snap came. Billy was so proud of himself that he didn’t notice that Mrs. Grüden had stopped teaching several minutes before, nor did he observe that she was advancing toward him slowly with a rather menacing looking yardstick in her hand. Just as Billy was preparing to break his last pencil, Mrs. Grüden snapped the yardstick down on his hand with a crack that would have made Billy proud, had it been his pencil as opposed to his hand.
Free of charge:
Normal laugh: hahahahaha
Reggae laugh: jajajajajaja