I love you too

Haha yay for titles that make no sense to anybody but me.

So the cast list posted last week, and I am in the chorus. But I am not bummed anymore (I spent an afternoon in some self-pity) because we did a read-through of the script and the chorus has way more stage time than any main character I could have gotten. So yeah.

My phone is spazzing out. It keeps having these 'errors' and needing to restart...DON'T DIE ON ME, GEAUXGEAUX!

On Thursday , we had a going-away fiesta for T.I.W., who is returning to her home state for ze holidays. J.J.D. was an absolute trooper and let us girls all try on dresses for a long time. And I got a new jacket ^.^ Everybody I meet while I'm wearing it who wasn't there when I bought it says it looks good. SO THERE, A.M.M.N. and K.M.S. and A.! I do TOO have a fashion sense!

(I just choose not to exercise it :P)

E.Y.M.S. and I had another tournament this weekend, but we did not make it to finals. Which is somewhat bogus. We got third place in every round, but we were gipped one round (Duo was supposed to have four rounds but it only got three in before semifinals).

But that is okay because I then got to judge a novice round, and N.M.N. (A.K.A. P.M.N.), A.M.C.M.P., C., and I were mannequins! That was awesome. We totally are going to do that in everyday life. I've always wanted to draw a crowd for something that wasn't screaming at the top of my lungs about finals! :D

In other news, I am having way too much fun with using initials instead of names. Hahaha.

THE WAVE.

Foods I will eat in enormous quantities without slowing down or feeling shame:

1. Pickles. Dill pickles, mind you, and only the large ones sliced into quarters. Then you have the option of eating the husk whatever or the seeds first, or both at once. Hand-held treats, these are simply DELICIOUS.

2. Clementines. They are easy to peel, sweet, small, and inconspicuous. What could be better? Super plus: It is possible to amuse oneself and everyone around by artfully arranging the peels!

WOCKA WOCKA WOCKA WOCKA WOCKA WOCKA WOCKA WOCKA WOCKA WOCKAWOCKA WOCKA WOCKA WOCKA WOCKA WOCKA WOCKA WOCKA WOCKA WOCKAWOCKA WOCKA WOCKA WOCKA WOCKA WOCKA WOCKA WOCKA WOCKA WOCKAWOCKA WOCKA WOCKA WOCKA WOCKA WOCKA WOCKA WOCKA WOCKA Ahem.
3. Gouda cheese and crackers. The stuff is HELLA DELICIOUS and this is an undeniable fact of life!

4. Apple sauce. Barring me getting sick from apple and sugar, this is basically something I will eat and eat and eat and eat...

5. Rice. Preferably that kind my mom makes with chicken or fish, because that stuff is the bee's knees. I always have to make myself eat all of the chicken and salad before I go back for rice, or the chicken will be half-eaten, the rice will be gone, and the my stomach will be very very full.

6. Gravy. Not technically a food, but then again, I don't exactly eat it alone! Beef gravy with the beef, or with potatoes, or with bread...

I'm getting hungry just writing this list! Gah! Snack break...

Nomnomnom okay!

7. Yogurt. It's delicious, and nutritious! In handy little snack-size containers - I eat at least two a day, but I don't get any taller. o.O Ah well, it's the thought that counts, and I'm thinking that these fantastic dairy products complete my breakfast any day!

8. Mint tea. Okay, this isn't technically a food either, but it is very good for relaxing with a book, or whilst doing homework, or petting a cat (barring any stray cat hairs in the mug).

I also go through frequent bouts of cottage cheese, peanut butter, apricot jam, pretzels, carrots, cardboard (are you paying attention?), and apples.

And then there was that one time when for a week all I could eat was Cheerios...

There you are: More than you ever needed to know about my eating habits!

:D

Today was the Cherry Creek Winter Wonder speech meet.

I've already killed the suspense, so here we go:

WE GOT FIFTH PLACE! E.Y.M.S. and I won FIFTH PLACE in our duo today, out of I think thirty or forty something! And that is exciting, my friend! I guarantee! We got finalist ribbons, and also a SHINY TROPHY! Each!

I don't mean to be braggy or anything of the sort. Really, I don't. But they gave us TROPHIES. Do you know the last time I got a TROPHY? Not a medal, mind you, which is what you get in dance or for getting a high score on the SAT ... I mean a full fledged, you-can't-wear-it-but-put-it-on-the-mantle TROPHY.

Eighth grade. Spelling bee. And K.S.D.L. is embarrassed by its cartoon beeness. But it is my TROPHY and I am PROUD of it. And now I have another one, that nobody can deny it its VICTORIOUS place on the shelf, because it looks VERY PROFESSIONAL (or it will, when I glue the corner back on X[ Stupid fumbling with my gloves while the bus was really late and cracking it a bit on the sidewalk...)

(You know what? I have looked EVERYWHERE for my glue gun! I can't find it and I am uber not pleased. Because I have to give the trophy back on Monday until the end of the year. And I would really like it on display in ONE piece. RAWR)

(Sorry for the spaziness. I have been mildly like this ever since E.Y.M.S. yelled at me that we made it to finals. When I screamed.

(Really, really loudly.

(Multiple times.

(And everybody looked. And then Mrs. M.K. came over and asked what was up, and I told her that we'd broken to finals. Except when you are excited, you know, your heart rate is increased, so you think you are speaking normal speed, and quietly, and actually you are going at 120 words per minute and shrieking at the top of your lungs, and every team in the cafeteria is staring at you and your own team is pretending not to be affiliated with you... You know?

(I mean, it happens to me all the time. To other people. Yes? Yes. And anyway, I didn't care on account of WE MADE IT TO FINALS.

(END PARENTHESIS!)

You really don't need to know much else. Yup yup. That was a huge victory, let me tell you. It makes it okay for a few days that the cast list still isn't posted. But like I say, hey. I have a trophy. I can wait a day to find out if I'm in the chorus.

And it sounds like I wrote that ironically, but I kind of didn't.

END

STUPID CUSSING PEOPLE WHO DIDN'T GET THEIR COMMITMENT LETTERS IN ON TIME CAUSED THE DELAY OF CAST POSTINGS.

I NEED SOME TEA.

HARDCORE.

I finally finished the designs! WHEW. I am so glad that is over with for now. It was fun, but time consuming as such endeavors always are. Because all of this is being done with the Paint program that comes default on Windows, thank you very much. No fancy Photoshop for me.

Here they are, with three fancy fonts. The rest of the board has to decide between 'em. I personally really like number 1, which furthers the idea of stencil graffiti, but I get the feeling people are going to go more for number 3, which looks more offhand graffiti'd. Number 2 I feel like is a good font otherwise, but looks very strange with the logo.

Feel free to add thoughts.

Come see the screening of Die Welle (The Wave), a German movie made in 2008, next Feb. 14th. The film is about a social experiment in fascism, and is based on an actual experiment conducted in a California high school in the 1960s.

Die Welle has been put up for 6 nominations and has won three awards (more details here).

That would be my speech piece. (Biblical. Of course!) I added some movement and I'm going to work hardcore on my characters and script for the next few days, giving me the chance to not look like a novice at this Saturday's tournament.

Just the slightest bit depressed today.

The slightest bit depressed because academia in this country is rapidly traveling to Hell in a hand basket. A lamp from another time that should have been our own, that seems always to be growing fainter though we require its warmth now more than ever... in the cold, rusting bottom of a steel hand basket traveling toward Hell.

And the hand basket is being passed hand-to-hand along a far-reaching line of people who really ought to know better. They ought to know better than to pass something so beautiful, dim and fragile though it is, along a line of death, into a pit of suffocating smoke and rapacious fire that reduces everything to ashes...

Academia in this country is rapidly traveling to Hell in a hand basket.

And the hand basket has finally rusted through. And all that beautiful academia is spilt all over the floor. Shards of it lie here and there... Careful that you don't step on it, but then again, better to step on that shattered old thing than on any toes. Oh well. Academia is spilt all over the floor.

And the floor is made of AstroTurf. Sickly green AstroTurf, AstroTurf that tries to be something but can just never get where it wants to be. AstroTurf and plain old dirt. Rub it in your cuts, slather it onto your bruises, cram it into your ears, grind it into your eyes.

And your neighbor's eyes, while you're at it.

And there are no mops big enough to clean up the monstrous puddle, the sporadically blushing carnage beneath the broken basket: The bones of art programs. The blood of world history. The entrails of foreign languages, clumps of hair from the scalp of the spelling bee, shreds of the skins of higher test scores...

There are no mops big enough. Not even if mops worked on AstroTurf.

And so these fragments of the dimly glowing coals of the Renaissance are being left behind, and won't even decompose to feed something newer.

Because AstroTurf is not even real grass.


Hell, I tell you. Those coals that powered Galileo and da Vinci through the night have nearly been extinguished, replaced by LED bulbs, steel, the Model T, progress, AstroTurf... Academia, there you are, neatly diced to 420 characters, devoid of any personality.

The only consolation is that there are people on the sides looking timidly at the mess, and pointing out with quivering hands the coals, suggesting with a stutter that if we but sheltered them as they are and blew at them cautiously every once in a while, that gentle beam of inspiration might again flood the hall.

The only consolation, however, is pushed back against the cold stone walls, forced to its knees, stripped of everything but the morning, the evening, the dirt and the AstroTurf. The AstroTurf holds no heat, the dirt no comfort. The only consolation that the only consolation has, is the knowledge that the morning breeds the evening breeds another morning, and someday a breeze might come along - of its own accord! - and breathe a stronger light out of those dimming coals...

Those of you who know, know that I have been preparing for the last six months or so for this dance competition yesterday ("Oireachtas," pronounced "Oh-rock-tuss," roughly means "Irish dancing competition"), in which I played a part that involved not so much acting as dancing, but was still super fun.

We had a choreographer come over from England to help us out, and parents and dancers alike contributed to costumes and set and props...(my prop wasn't used...bitterbitterbitterhappyagain :P)

We did acting prep and a lot of teamwork exercises, and so we have been working on this project for six months. You know how long the performance is?

Six minutes.

Six months for six minutes.

And that's show business, kid. :P

It's the same choreography (called a dance drama, for those of you who don't know) as we did last Saturday, with a few little changes here and there...my character sort of completely revolutionized herself, because I recently discovered that when she was 10 she fell out of a hayloft...I love method acting :)

Also, we nearly didn't get the broom onstage, my hat nearly fell off, and only half of our cloth carriage stayed up. Also, the stage had about ten feet less of width than we thought it would have. Which was a problem.

Hahaha. It was so much fun.

We all did our steps really well, and we all stayed in character despite the flubs, and we walked offstage feeling great.

Then I found Carissa, Nate, Kylina, Tia, and Jackson, who had all come down to watch the competition and are therefore generally fantastic human beings. Aaaaand awards weren't going to begin for another long time. Because the Oireachtas runs on Irish time. Bleh.

Everybody left except Nate, because they had other places to be. Not Nate, though, because he hadn't met Chloe (who acted as the boy in our drama), who was very very upset that she hadn't met him at the show last Saturday; she said she would beat both me and Nate over the head with the laundry basket if I didn't introduce them at Oireachtas.

There was probably another reason he stayed for awards, but I can't really put my finger on it...

I'll spare you the suspense of waiting for them to tally everything, all of the group dances from all day and all of their various age groups...sparing sparing sparing...

WE WON!!




Heritage's other team (the Dragon drama) placed third; a California team got second; and the Jamie Freel team got FIRST PLACE AT THE WESTERN REGIONAL OIREACHTAS 2009!






No emoticon could even come CLOSE to expressing the joy this picture brings... haha w00t. We all did a victory dance. We actually practiced them earlier without knowing it...one of our acting exercises. Hahaha. Yay, Maire (our choreographer/acting coach). You're so clever.

So then we all returned to the hotel and got dressed in our normal-people clothes (I was dressed like a chubby Irish farmwoman, by the way, and the makeup was so good that nobody except Nate recognized me at first, but he cheated because he'd seen me Saturday). It was also Kelseigh's birthday, so we gave her cake and sang and generally celebrated.

WOO HOO!

Sorry.

Then Nate was a perfect gentleman and invited me over for dinner. Because I was finally hungry for more than ten minutes in a row (my stomach goes bipolar when I'm competing. o.O) I was able to enjoy a lovely chicken/pasta dish that I don't actually know what it is called...but it was muy delicious.

And then I thought my driving leg was cramping up really really badly (again!), so Nate had to drive me home (again). (Thank you Nate!) Turns out it wasn't actually a cramp, but that I probably have ...bursitis? Yes, that is how it's spelled. Where parts of your joints swell up or something...it's happened before, recently, so I won't be dancing again for a little while. *SADNESS OF DOOM*

But at least we all got through Oireachtas, and nobody killed him/herself onstage this year. Or offstage. Which is of vital importance.

Oh yeah. And we did win. That too.

Woo hoo! This week just went right, you know? :D And what a great Saturday to top it all off!

I KNEW IT.

1. Show up well in any lighting conditions.

2. Technicians need not make major adjustments for skin tone.

3. As a chorus member in Sweeney Todd, need not use any white foundation before adding bruises under eyes. *Plus for germophobes!

4. Easy to find in a crowd.

5. Can play Tic-Tac-Toe without a pen or pencil. *This is called graphodermasomethingorother!

6. Able to be ninja even in the daylight. (You know you were wondering how I did it.)

7. Will never be eaten by a fox if stuck in the Arctic.

8. Will never be eaten by a penguin if stuck in the Antarctic.

9. Can pretend to be Danish. Because Danes are super happy. *Super plus for blondes, who have more fun anyway!

10. Able to blend in with Asians.




11. Due to the Twilight craze, if we apply the method of syllogism,
Vampires = sexy
Vampires = super pale people
Super pale people = sexy



As if I needed the craze.

.

Today just seemed to go right, you know?

I mean, I woke up and sure, it was cold. Sure, I didn't want to move...but I woke up to the STAR WARS THEME SONG!! And as everyone ought to know, or will very soon find out, that is pretty much the most epic thing I could ever wake up to.

AND I have a policy of I must be out of bed before the end of the first song. The SW theme is a long song. Hurrah for that happy coincidence also!

Then in English class, along with eating an egg and not getting yelled at (again! Record!), I made a fabulous insight about a Madame Virginia Woolf. But you don't get to hear it. Because it is long.

Yay grammatically incorrect sentence beginnings! Hurrah!

Then in Psych, we played the Psych game and I totally ruled it. Sorry. I am just really excited because I wasn't sure that I was ready for this upcoming test, but it turns out I am. And I got a few dumbfounded looks from my table buddies when I rattled off four characteristics of a "Happy person" as discovered by somebody (still have to study names) without looking in either my notes or my book. I love getting looks like that - on occasion, of course. W00t :D

Then in Spanish we had to read this passage and answer comprehension questions, but it was okay because a) Sr. Camacho is back (FINALLY!! :D), and b) because the passage was about this guy totally man-bubbling over this girl he met at a party, and it was uber sweet. It almost made me bubble myself, because it was so cute.

Almost.

In Bio we had a guest speaker talking to us about H1N1, and it was interesting if you asked questions. So I asked questions. Because otherwise, I was bound to fall asleep. It's nobody's fault. It was interesting, it's just that the speaker has a naturally quiet voice and it was a dark room with a projector on. You know how it goes.

Then came the Maths test. Oooh, scary! Without beating about the bush, I will say that I am probably far too confident about it. I can't say it out loud in the halls or people might just beat me up...well okay. They wouldn't do that. But I do feel quite confident that I am near the top of the class on this one. Everyone else was saying that they had to leave several questions blank or incomplete, but I finished every one and felt good about them, and had time to review them with time to spare!

Cross your fingers, friends! (Enemies: voodoo dolls do not work. Sorry.)

Skipping Theatre. No particular reason...

Ahem
ERIN AND I SPENT A VERITABLE HOUR BEING TOTAL SPAZZES WREAKING HAVOC IN THE HALLS OF GEORGE WASHINGTON HIGH SCHOOL.

Then I went to dance class ^^ And my legs only screamed at me for an hour (first full class in a few months...). Yay only one hour of leg screaming!

Then I had SUSHI for dinner. Which rocked.

And there are a lot of bubble-related things I can't really talk about just now. So yeah.

I hope you weren't eaten by a bear yesterday (Sunday?). Today wasn't even so much as an annoying woodpecker day, I believe. So huzzah. No annoying woodpeckers for you.

Or you, either.

You, eh, sure. Why not. You look like that kid who was annoying me in the hallway a few days ago. So you get a woodpecker!

Muhuahaha.

Dear C.M.E.M., and everyone else whose fault Intentionally Left Blank is,

You said that I should start a blog of my own because you wanted "to get inside [my] head..." Please don't get lost. Thank you.

Love,
"Nineteen"



Friday. Friday, to put it briefly, was way too long.

To put it not-briefly (you knew it was coming!), it was a long day at school followed by a speech tourney. Which would have been bad in itself. Or bad paired with the fact that I had PMS hangover and super-cramps. Except I had A COLD. Not the flu, mind you, just a stupid head-congesting, nose-blowing, cruddy-feeling COLD. Bleh. So I had to pinch my nose with a tissue during each round or (as I found out second round) I would sneeze during people's pieces.

What is up with those particular dudes (identities protected)? I didn't sneeze DURING their piece. I didn't sneeze loudly. I did the best I could! STOP GIVING ME DIRTY LOOKS.

I don't even like your piece that much anymore. So there.

And then our second round judge timed us for the first time all season, so of course we went "over" - that is, we were verbally stopped with about thirty seconds left in our piece. Thank goodness it was at a good stopping point. So then we had to go into the hall and cut stuff, and I couldn't even give it a good run through because I could feel my voice losing itself - could feel myself losing my voice. Whatever - and I was SUPER TIRED. But we did get it down to like 9:50 or something for our third round. I hope Erin remembers the cuttings. Cuz I fo sho do not.

And at the same time as we were cutting I destroyed my left eye with my contact. It was muy painful and for no reason.

Anyway, it was exhausting. And we didn't even break. To finals. For you non-speechifying people, breaking to finals means making it to finals. Which is good. Meh. Stupid East, getting all of its teams in. Oh well.

I did make some new friends, though. These two kids (from East, yeah, but they were nice) were SO funny. The guy's name is Will, I think, and I don't remember the girl's name. But Will was really nice when we were talking after just about everybody else had gone home, and all the duo people (except for those who...left...early...) were waiting for the semi finals postings. He said he really loved our piece (FIST BUMP, E.Y.M.S.! *BUMP*) and then he said that he really liked Mrs Fibonacci as a character. Since Mrs Fibonacci is my character, I am taking it as a personal compliment. Don't go bringing logic into it! You'll spoil my fun!

Yep. So that was cool.

Then Saturday rolled around. There were ten hours or something of sleep between Friday night and Saturday morning, but still. I still had this KILLER COLD and I had to dance. Bleh. So I did. I won't even tell you the heck in a handbasket I went through just to find the place. I had some juice, though, and that perked me right up - yay, electrolytes! - and also, adrenaline really clears out your sinuses. *Surprised*

I will again skip - skip, skip, skip, skip, skip - all of the in-between-ness. And skip right to the show.

Well, okay, I will skip the frantic part too.

So I got all made up in my Mammy face and clothes (positively darling! - look on Facebook), and frantically ran around trying to find my hat...Then, as soon as I had a moment, I wandered out into the buffet area and found my darling N.L.N.

Pause. All of you people who don't like bubbles. You know who you are. Stop reading. Because I was really tired, and getting over a bad head cold, so I was still congested, and still had cramps and PMS hangover, and I hadn't really felt like eating all day, and there was Nate. So I am going to bubble, d@&*it.

Play. ^^

He was getting chips or salsa or both or something, so he was bent over, and he was wearing his ridiculous shorts like he does (you know they're ridiculous!). And I just went right up and hugged him, darnit. He was like this glowing beacon of happy and I was SO GLAD TO SEE HIM!!

Bubblebubblebubblebubblebubble...

Haha so then after that I found out that K.S.D.L. was just a few people behind me, and he was giving me this look like, "What, your dad comes all this way and brings your cartoonish hats and you hug your BF first?" But you know, I really saw N.L.N. first, and also, yes. Basically, that is how it goes when you are lightheaded from congestion and need some advil for your lady problems. That is just how it goes.

My dinner? A bite of a tuna sandwich and two slices of cantaloupe. I wasn't hungry! After six and a half hours of dancing! Not hungry! What a twist.

I was so happy that my parents and N.L.N.'s dad got along, though. I figured they would - I mean, they are Nate's and my parents; my parents like N.L.N., and N.L.N.'s parents like me; there must be a connection someplace - but it was still so nice to see it play out before I had to go rushing back to fix my hair and my hat and this, that, and the other thing.

I nearly missed the performance of the other drama, but I got out just in time (though I still had to pin the comb onto my hat - long story). I found D.H.G. and had time to say hello, and then the other drama began. (YAY Dragon people! You rock! *Head bang*)

As soon as it was over, I had to run back and put on my hat, then walk out and make backstage preparations, smile for photos (My adoring fans! Mwah! Mwah!), and yeah. It was quite hectic.

The show went awesomely! Yayyyyy! If you were not there I am not going to describe it for you. You should have been there. And if you were there, yay! You know what it was like, and hopefully it looked as good as it felt :)

Well, afterward, there were pictures to be taken, and I saw D.H.G., and posed for a picture, and there were cast pictures, etc. But I didn't get to see B.J.W.L. or N.L.N. I thought, No problem. I'll see them in a minute...right?

WRONG. Cuz then M (our coach) wanted to give us NOTES. Right then.

Okay, I don't know about y'all, but if I am only staying awake on adrenaline, and I have hardly eaten anything all day, and I stop moving, I fall asleep slash devolve into a moody whatever. Which I did.

I was leaning against the wall and M was taking what seemed like forever taking notes (I'm sure it couldn't have been more than six minutes total. It just felt super long on my exhausted mindedness). And because I hadn't seen N.L.N. I got all anxious and thought, "What if he left?" I started mildly panicking because that is what ladies do when they are tired and have lady problems. My cold was going away, though...

So I kept anxiously looking down the hall to see if N.L.N. was leaving, and I don't know what I would have done - broken away from the group and slammed into him in a really hard hug, I guess - but it made me sadder and sadder that I didn't see him, and K.McQ. was being a real darling and everyone was giving me sympathetic looks. Which was good, only I know I was being super duper rude to M. Sorry, M. Sorry...

LONG STORY SHORT AGAIN (sorry, y'all!): I found N.L.N. He had not left. I just about fell over from happy. D.H.G. had left, though, so that was a downer. B.J.W.L., N.L.N., K.S.D.L., and N.L.N.'s dad wanted to see me dance some more, so I *magically* acquired more energy (adrenaline! You could bottle it and make a fortune!) and did a slip jig. I hope it was good... so yeah.

And then N.L.N. had to drive me home because I was so exhausted. Yay N! You know (anti-bubbling people can look away now), that was super awesome of you, and I cannot express how much it meant that I was not in the driver's seat that night. I probably would have crashed. I was SO TIRED. So thanks a bunch. You are amazing. All the time. And that was particularly awesome.

Okay, evil non-bubbly peoples, it's safe.

Just kidding.

Muhuahahaha.

We got back to my house after an adventure downtown and me continually giving N the wrong directions because I was half-asleep and fully confused. (Sorry!) So we got to the house and N.L.N.'s dad, B.J.W.L., and K.S.D.L. were already there. They had a Fresca waiting for N. I took the first opportunity to get Nate to sit down, and then I sat down too, and promptly fell asleep. N, by the way, is a muy comfy pillow. (*Bubble*) And everybody talked about tasers or something for a while, and then they had to go home, and then I went to sleep.

Whew! What a fun- and exhaustion-packed two days, eh? And thank goodness I blogged about it or you might have missed it! }=] Muhuahahaha.

Maybe next time will be more congruent...

Well, peoples, you wanted to get inside my head... I hope you did not get too lost...

Here is a compass...

Don't get consumed by a bear...

I hate flies.

With a passion.

They are always buzzing around, around, around; back and forth, down, up, down again, around and around - and why don't they land? Why won't the little buggers land? Always right next to your ear, right by your head, never settling down, never landing. He - if the fly is a "he," because "fly" is too irritating a word to repeat too often - nearly touches the windowsill, and then as you are bringing the magazine back in preparation, he fakes you out and goes up to the ceiling again.

The buzzing must be akin to the nasally and atrocious "Nyah-nyah-nana-nyah!"

I suppose it can be attributed to convergent evolution - sharks always move, too. If they don't keep swimming, they will sink and die.

And if this fly ever stops moving, I'll kill it.

But wait. I still my hand and lower the magazine; my eyes stop their vigilant chase of the winged pest. What is this killing instinct? Why do I want so badly to kill this fly? Because it buzzes? Because it is mildly annoying? Because I am disgusted with its stupidity - both, there is an open window with a breeze coming in; why is the fly not buzzing near the screen? and, there is an open door nearby, with no one outside of it - no one in the hall holding a magazine and awaiting his splendid demise!

A fly so intelligent as to refrain from landing near me might as well not fly near me at all! For in a sudden jerk of reflex I might reach out and grab him whole in the upswing. But of course I could never stand having a fly in hand. I could never crush him between my fingers. I would have to endure the buzzing from within the prison of my palm until I could reach the very door that let him in, and then what? What if another one flew in the same way?

No, I am just going to have to endure -

Wait! What is this? He is stalling - the buzzing is stopped - as I look up from the glowing screen I see him settling on my lamp shade. I reach for the magazine, looking away - I look back again, quickly, and he is still there. Why don't you flee, fly?

I don't even roll up the magazine. The fly doesn't flee. Just sits there as the magazine gets closer, the Michelin Man grinning widely from his other-dimension of waxy paper.

The fly moves, not of his own accord. Down into - the recycle bin? Next to it? Well, victory and peace at last.

I look down at the magazine. Yellow drops. Oh... the Michelin Man has yellow... on...

I am at the sink. Drinking water. Drinking water... I shudder. So does my stomach... The tissue dragged across the Michelin Man's face, I mean dragged, like it held a grudge against me. I could feel every particulate of the splattered... I think about the fly's corpse, hiding behind the recycle bin.

I deserved to feel every particulate, didn't I? I mean, I put it there... My stomach shudders again. I drink more water. The room is really quiet now, only the whirring of my computer and my hasty gulps drowning the silence... why doesn't the computer's hum bother me?

The fly...

What is this killing instinct? What was the fly - he, I called the fly, I call the fly, he - doing that was so offensive that he deserved to die? What? Buzzing? Being there? Living? Trying to live in the same room as I was living in? And how dare he...

What is this killing instinct? Is this how we solve our problems as human beings? Of course it is! And it is everywhere! The British did it best, you know: You - you there! Yes, you! Step forward, and quickly. You are the leader here? Well, you are now. Listen closely. I have more guns than you. They fire more bullets, faster, than yours - and are louder; they make more smoke, you see? I have more guns than you. Stop doing what it is you are doing that bothers me - having something I want; following your own customs; having a culture of your own; having something I want; gaining rights; having something I want; achieving independence. That worst of all; it bothers me, see? So quit it all, this instant, or I will use my guns. Quit it all, or I will splatter your yellowish insides all over the... Michelin... Man...

... It is so very quiet in here...

We are fighting an ancient battle, you know - "man" and "fly" - as I sit back down at my computer and resume the chat in which I am currently engaging to avoid my Spanish homework. Spanish - another form of communication that is supposed to help us understand each other. And yet the Spanish did it second best!: Oh, hello. Nice little empire you've got here. Pardon me. I'll just overpower you, nice and easy. There we are. Gunpowder, you know. The Chinese use it for entertainment. Entertainment! So do we. No need to run, it'll only take a few moments of your time and the spilling of a lot of blood... well, your blood, anyway... pointless yellowish goo... there we go. Hey, don't sweat it. Jesus did it too. And speaking of Jesus... !

Why not fight man-on-fly - man-on-man? Use your fists and brute force, rather than guns, you Britons, you Spaniards! An arms advantage does not give you the right to take something away so swiftly and efficiently...

But now I am a hypocrite, of course. Did I not say that I could not possibly stand the idea of crushing the fly with my bare hands? I cheated. I cheated. Instead of destroying the little buzzing life myself I asked someone else to do it. The Michelin Man, of course, was at my immediate disposal, and all too pleased to carry out the deed. I suppose he is all too used to it by now...

Turn, turn thy hasty foot aside,
Nor crush that helpless worm!
The frame thy wayward looks deride
Required a god to form!

The gracious Lord of all that move,
From whom thy being flowed,
A portion of his boundless love
On that poor worm bestowed,...

Let them enjoy their little day,
Their lowly bliss receive;
Oh! do not lightly take away
The life thou canst not give.

Who wrote this poem? I think of it every time I do something like this - give in to that horrid killer instinct that quite possibly kept my ancestors alive and breathing... At the cost of crushing the windpipe of another thing so recently alive.

Should it really matter if it was fly or freeman? ant or aborigine? centipede or civilian? They each have a heart that beats, a heart that pumps life-blood throughout; they each have eyes and ways of moving. Each is alive. This I know, and life I crave - always...

And yet there is that killing instinct that hides in a corner of my mind, saying, if a fly ever again dares to intrude here - lands on one of the chairs - it shall fly no more - indeed, it shall soar limply down, to come to rest without a bounce on the carpet next to the recycle bin.

What remarkable and fragile creatures we are.

And so easily biodegradable.