Snow.

Jeez. There is so much snow. I've shoveled out the car like three times, and it's not going anywhere. Nice of the plow guys to, you know, plow. Psyche! Anyway, I'll probably starve. If I have to resort to cannibalism, I think I'll eat Jack last. I mean, you could hardly walk in this stuff. I might have to pull a Brian's Winter trick and fashion some snow shoes. Then I'll go moose hunting. Hell yes.

Monetize

Well. I'm 18 now. So I sold out, and I'm trying the advertising thing to make some fast cash. If it's not profitable, then I will discontinue the practice. Sorry about the advertisements, in the mean time.

These are the pictures

The Ants.
"Stand still Sam!" said the Emmett.
Minus Sam.
Sam, as seen by Emmett.
Someone's blood on the wall.
I took this one. I call it, "Emmett meets his match."
Emmett did this.
Emmett took this one too.
This one, Emmett took. It was originally upside down, but so you all could enjoy it better, I made it right side up.
Some boogers or sumpin?
You see the cars?
There was some po' po' action.
Messy Masse at it again.
Andrew Kenny in his truck.
Tyler and his hat.

టైటిల్.

ఫర్ సం రేఅసన్ వెన్ ఐ అం టైపింగ్ థిస్ స్తుఫ్ఫ్, ఇట్ అల్ తుర్న్స్ ఇంతో సం కింద అఫ్ విఎర్డ్ జిబ్బెరీష్ స్కుఇగ్గ్లె షిట్ ఆన్ ది స్క్రీన్. ఐ హొపే ఇట్ దోఎస్న్'త షో అప్ లికె తాత ఆన్ ది బ్లాగ్.

Long Time Gone

Hey group. It's been a while.

I've been kind of busy lately, so I'll tell you about my adventures. It all started two Thursdays ago...

I woke up. Because I thought I had a dentist appointment. But I was sadly mistaken. And, it was raining. But it was okay, because after I got that mess all straightened out, we left for Nashville, and it was nicer and nicer the further we became from Waynesboro. Anyhow, we were there until the following Tuesday. It's a very long car ride. And there's not much to see along the way. Unless you like rocks and stuff. In which case, you would probably enjoy such a ride. But I digress. While we were there, we went down town, where they have some funny shaped buildings, one in particular, an AT&T building, looked like Batman because of some towers that stuck out on either side of its roof. So that's what the natives called it. And it does. Look like Batman. Er.. There was the Country Music Hall of Fame. Exciting. But the street they called Broadway was neat. Lots of lights and buskers and things. Also, lots of fast food places. Where Waynesboro has one Sonic, we'll say, Nashville has about twenty. Along with plenty of other places, some of which I'd never heard of. Though, we did go to the Opry Mills place, which is where they do their whole Grand Ole thing. And there was this neat hotel with a glass-roofed atrium in the middle, and it had all kinds of plants and stuff in it. And a shallow river thing with fish. It was pretty neat. Felt kind of like I was in that movie. Bio-dome or something like that. Anyway. It was fun enough. I had a good time. We went to the Mall there. And they had a Gibson store, so we went in and Dad and I played around on their guitars for like an hour, but there was this guy who came up and started talking to us. He was nice enough, but we were there for like another hour, and he couldn't take the hint that we wanted to leave. Eventually though, his wife came over and she looked a little angry. So he left. And we did too at that point. And there was this big lake too. Percy Priest lake or something like that. Pretty neat. Lots of boats and things. Islands and all. But after that, we came home. And I started working at the Animal Hospital on the thirteenth. Which was two days ago now. It's alright there I guess. But I kind of feel like a janitor. We do alot of cleaning. Alot. I even empty garbage cans and stuff sometimes. But I only work like three hours a day or so. So it's not really that bad at all.
Any rate, that's pretty much what I've been doing. Besides trying (unsuccessfully, I might add) to finish summer reading assignments, which I don't think I'll be able to finish. If I could just get this last book done, and type those lousy papers. Oh well. School starts pretty soon. I guess I'll see you all there, If not sooner.

Dream

I had this really bizarre dream the other night.
And I can't very well open with that, and then leave you hanging, could I? So I'll tell you about it. Though, I must warn you, the graphic nature of this dream may not be suitable to young children.
Anyhow, the dream started out, well. It really ended up I guess, in the cathedral kind of place. It was a big, open room. Made out of stone. The walls and floors and stuff. And it was dark, you know. Lit by candles and torches and stuff. Some kind of Gothic sanctuary. Like Notre Dame. And there were all these people. Normal folks. Just standing around in here. And they were on two sides of the room, with an aisle in the middle. It was pretty wide. At one side, there was like, an altar or something. A large fireplace, perhaps. At the other a door. Near the altar, there were four people. Two women, and Two men. The women were just dressed in regular white dresses. The men were in some kind of military uniform, and had like, these turban things as headdresses. I think it was some kind of Russian royalty thing. Like Peter. If that's his name. But they had those hats. Anyway, from the door there comes this monk. An abbot or something. And he is carrying these rod things. Like spears. Tubular, but flat on one end, and in a point. Like a broad tipped spear. And to each of the "Royals" he handed a spear. And they took them, and gingerly each placed his or her spear carefully under his chin. Now, these things were pretty tall, and the royals had to stand on the tips of their toes for them to fit. By this point, in the dream, I had become pretty confused. I started walking around, and talking to all these faceless people, trying to find out what was going on. And then, quite suddenly, all four of the royals, while still holding the spears in the same position under their chins, jumped strait up in the air.
At this point, I really got freaked out. I could tell you what happened to the royals, but you could probably figure it out by yourselves. And the weird thing about it is, after they did that whole deal, and just kind of laid around and screamed a bit afterward (that was the worst part, and that is as far as I'll go into that) the people standing around me watching it all happen just started cheering. They were happy. As to why, I was at a loss.
Then I woke up. And that was that.

Horizons

Lately I've been thinking about broadening my horizons. I'd like to get out and do more things. For example, I've always kind of wanted to make, like, furniture. You know. Amish style. Rocking chairs and stuff. Curio cabinets, etc. I feel like wood working is just another form of art. And after building all kinds of stuff at Sam's house (mostly just medieval siege weapons-crossbows, trebuchets, catapults) during the past week or so, I've come to realize just how much I like working with my hands, building things and all that (playing music, shadow puppets, etc.). So, I think I am going to take up wood working as a hobby. Maybe I'll make a dining room set. Or some coffee tables. Hell, if I feel like it, maybe even some guitars and stuff. Luthiering is pretty much the same thing. Then I can do pianos and stuff. And if there aren't any jobs left when we're out of college, well, I can always make shit for people.

TREASURE

I've left you all secret messages in the comments on your blogs. So go and find them!

APUSH

I'm certainly ready to wipe my hands with A P United States History. And this year for school too. It's been fun folks, but enough is enough, and at last the end is in sight! I have a dream my friends, that one day we will be able to rise up out of this struggle, having successfully (or not, as the case may be) completed another year of high school to boot. And that dream is quickly becoming a reality! The goal is within our grasp! All we have to do is reach out and seize it; for in doing so we ensure that our grievous labor will not have been for naught. So, comrades, shall we seize this wondrous opportunity to prove ourselves and our cause. I think we ought to. With that, I leave you all with this, our message: Prevail, Prevail, Prevail! For to not prevail is to fail.

I hate...

calculus.

Crummy Weather and Emotional Stuff

I don't really like weather like there's been the last day or two. I kinda feel like the earth can't decide whether it wants to be rainy or just miserably overcast. It's really just crummy weather. But Saturday was great weather. Perfect weather, really. I could live in a climate like that forever and never get tired of it. Well. That's a lie. I'd have to come back here for the crummy weather every once in a while. Even though its depressing as hell, it makes me feel alive. Reminds me of the full spectrum of emotions and stuff. Without a little sadness and disappointment, all the good times would just be times, because there wouldn't be anything to compare them to.

Feline Friends

I love it when I'm the first one home in the afternoons. Mostly just because the cat (who we commonly refer to as Jack, but his collar/tag thing (which he doesn't wear anyway) spells Jacques (which I'm pretty sure is wrong) is extremely lovable and friendly with the single person he makes contact with after a long day of being alone. And normally, you couldn't pay him to sit within a ten foot radius of you (he's not very sociable). But anyway, today I got lucky and was the first one in (even though Emmett and I had spent the previous half an hour with unsuccessful attempts at following strangers (they would almost always immediately turn into a photo place or some gas station, as if we were wearing a big sign that read in bold orange letters: "hey, we're trying to follow you."))(I'm feeling kind of like I'm doing a calculus problem or something with all these parentheses) and sure enough I heard one of those weird cat noises (you know the ones, I hope, that kind of sound like meowing, but with a Doppler effect thing because they are running, you could almost compare it to say, a baby with the cooing thing) and a thump thump thump ( he hangs around in my room, on my things a lot, and he has to jump down like a mountain goat, due to the clutter) and he came running down the stairs and practically jumped in my arms. Naturally, I was elated and screamed "JACKUMS!" (which is how I refer to him sometimes). And so I put him down and preceded to put away my things, all the while he is busily curling around my legs ( I assume, and with a great hope, that this is a cat's way of showing affection) which made it rather difficult, and then to the kitchen, to give him some food ( I think he likes it when I say "Jack! Din Din! Come and get your supper!" because he always dashes in) because no one has fed him since breakfast. And he meows and tries to get the food before I can get it on the plate. And then he eats it, and purrs. That's my favorite. He hardly ever purrs, except under these specific circumstances. And then when he's finished (for some reason, I watched him the entire time) I plop down on the sofa, where he immediately joins me (something he doesn't normally do) and we enjoy eachother's company and watch T.V. Though, nothing is really ever on after school, so that doesn't last long. And so I turned it off, and Jack eventually went to sleep. Then everyone else got home, and in a flash he was gone. Right back up the stairs to his various hiding spots. And that is the worst. But when I move out, he's coming too. And we'll do stuff like that everyday. Hopefully.

Sahara

So. Over the past few weeks on Wednsdays (shit, how do you spell Wedsnday?) and Mondays (thank goodness I can get that one; a sliver of sanity left) in Latin have been kinda boring. I mean, outside of playing games (oh, and on fridays too) and sometimes shooting the breeze with Emmett and the motley group of regulars (Jennah's there. And Tim Bihl. Jake has even been by sometimes. Alex and Carter. And Katie and Amber. And Mr. Charlie, more frequently as of late. Plus or minus that lady with the red hair and Mrs. Galenis (whom I loathe with my entire being, by the way) and mostly just wasting time. But then, sometimes when I feel creative and I can manage to coerce the computer to cooperate, I paint stuff in Tux paint. I did a few with animals. A Lion, an Elephant, and A Zebra. I want to do some more, if I can find the time (shouldn't be a problem-worry not). Any way. Here they are.

Fluid

I'd like to keep
some meditation in a jar
then perhaps
I'd dump it out,
into a car
and it might run
and I could fly
and find the line
between the ground and sky
or maybe not,
and my hopes, would be shot.
Well, that's all I've got.
But perhaps not?

Flavour of the Week

I don't like drugs, and I don't like vocabulary words. Though, I will admit that there are good and bad times to use both. But if used together, they become ekstreemlee dainjurus.

Future

So today I began to seriously consider my options for the future: where I might attend college, what I might do, where I would go, etc. I ended up deciding that at some point, I want to live in a metropolis of some kind and open up a music shop. Not one of those shitty places that doesn't let you play the instruments. And we won't just sell guitars and drums and things either. I'll make it a point to have plenty of zithers and sitars, plenty of pungis and didgeridoos, and violins and cellos too. And plenty of guitars. And drums too, I guess. But drums can be annoying sometimes. There would definitely be a separate room (preferably noise proof) for the percussion. And you could play the instruments. Hell, there might as well even be a few that aren't for sale that people can come in and play whenever they want. And there could be music lessons and stuff too. Yeah, that would be nice. Very nice indeed. And I could call it something clever. Like Strawberry Jam. I mean, it really wouldn't have to be strawberry or anything. You could call it Blueberry Jam too, I suppose. Just as long as there is jam someplace in it. Because that is what people could do there. Jam. That's the point.

Waste

So, here it is February the Sixth and several weeks have passed since my last post. I kind of feel like the blog thing is slowing down, and it kind of makes me sad a little bit. I enjoy writing these things. It's almost like complaining, but I feel better about this than say, belly-aching to Miss Gross about how I wish she would spend more time explaining problems than doing them, if that makes sense. And I'm not, at this point anyway, really sure about what I want to begin with. So I don't really know what to complain about. I mean, I could complain about lots of things, but it wouldn't get anything done, and I'm certainly not one to waste time.

So...

Have you ever been really excited to do something, but then at the last minute something comes up and plans get all changed around. And you end up not doing anything at all. Like having breakfast for dinner, but no one cooks anything and you end up eating cereal, which, while still considered a breakfast food, doesn't make much of a dinner. Or like going to see Michael Bolton. But it turns out that it's just that guy from office space. But wait a second. I don't even know if Michael Bolton is any good. I don't think I'd pay to see him, anyway. Or like astronauts going into space. And they're about to take off, but then a guy at Houston comes over the loud speaker:
''Sorry fellas. No space flight. Turns out, there's no such thing as mars.''

Calculus Work

So here is what we did on Thursday instead of doing Calculus. I don't know about others, but this could explain why I have such a bad grade in there. And also why Mrs. Gross is always so angry with us. The other one is up top. I have taken the liberty of naming them, Sea Dragon, Meth Pirate, and Frog King, respectively. Carter Walker, Kyle Sandridge, Emmett Crawford, and Dylan Howdyshell were the artists. But they're not anymore.

Well...

It's Monday evening in this, the third week of January, in the year two thousand and nine. And I am ready for another winter break. School has really been dragging lately. I mean draaaggginngg. Like they do with the boats after they find a body in the harbor or something. And it's slow, something awful. Like cold molasses. But soon we'll have a four day weekend. And that'll be nice, for a while. But then it's back to the old grind, and until spring break too. But after that, just a few weeks until summer. And that, will be nicest of all. On those warm thoughts, I leave you. Good night, and good luck. And if Morgan Freeman were narrating my life, he would here say:
"And so Dylan turned off the computer, and proceded to climb - both up the stairs and into his bed - and there he lay until morning; all the while his mind a-thrum with the comings and goings of dreams. "