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2005-02-22 - 1:59 a.m.
squirrels, girls, stories.
Okay. I got my previous paper on Flying Squirrels back today. I got a B. Normally, I'm not a hardass about grades, but I totally think I should have gotten an A. The minimum was five pages, I turned in twelve.
In the comments he said my writing was well crafted and polished, but I could have gone even more indepth with my analysis. Well, I think 12 pages is rather indepth. However, he asked to keep a copy of my essay for a model for next semester.
I'm not exactly a cocky man, but I like to think that I can do one thing well, and that is my writing. It may not seem so on here, but that's because I'm rather laid back. When I write a paper, it's my creation. I have decided that this next paper is going to blow my professor out of the water. I'm not gonna let this man think he is lord and master, in some way superior to me. Yeah, it's egotistical, but I'm a dick sometimes.
In other news, I just started dating this girl that I've liked for a while. She is absolutely perfect for me. She is intelligent, liberal, funny, an elitist, and very beautiful. We agree on just about everything, to the point of spookiness. I'm still in shock that it worked out.
We had our first 'date' last night, I took her out to eat at PF Chang's, a very upscale restaurant here in Raleigh. I had a great time talking to her over dinner. Hell, I've enjoyed being around her for the past two and a half months. I'm totally crossing my fingers hoping things work out.
So yeah, I'm pretty stable. School is going well, despite my bitching about English. ComedyWorx is more and more rewarding as time goes on, I've got a great dynamic in the dorm, and I'm seeing the most perfect girl I've ever met. Man, why am I so kickass?
To back up my claims, I'm posting below a few snippets of a story I'm writing. It won't exactly make sense because they jump in time, especially between the second and third excerpt. Most of you that read this have already seen this story, but in case any others in Interweb land care, here it is.
The evening air was still as Dietrich intensely pored over dusty and forgotten tomes in his study. His lips were pursed, mouthing the words he read on the paper that crumbled even as his hands turned the yellowed pages. Stacks and stacks of the musty volumes lay haphazardly on the floor and shelves, discarded after their knowledge was absorbed, and even more waited for his attention.
Flickering light was cast on the stone walls, becoming less and less bright as the candles melted down to a waxy stump. Time passed quickly for Dietrich, who became totally entranced in his work. He knew that his life was meant for a great discovery, to create and innovate methods that would change the world.
It was for this reason that he was in this monastery of sorts. It was in reality the keep of the Del Var, a secluded sect of humans devoted to the discovery of the methods behind the practice of magic.
A cool breeze wafted through the study as the door opened, and a second robed figure entered the room. He was a medium height, shorter than Dietrich, and his face was cloaked by a cloth hood. Pacing, he moved toward the man clutching the many volumes.
The intruder�s eyes narrowed as he saw that Dietrich had not glanced up from his studies, not noticing his entrance at all. Breathing deep and removing his hood, he grabbed Dietrich�s arm sharply.
Dietrich stopped reading and marked his page before closing the tome. Peering at the other man with dark, harsh eyes, he gritted his teeth and stood.
�I believe I said in no uncertain terms that I was not to be disturbed.� Dietrich stated.
The other man frowned at the proclamation, but seemed to pay it no mind. �And I believe,� he said, �That what you do with my precious volumes, my most ancient and fragile volumes, is my business. And I also believe that you have neglected to return many of them back to our library, directly counter to the agreement we made when I lent them to you.�
�Yes, it was agreed that I return these back to your possession, but isn�t it more important that we continue to make more and more discoveries? Isn�t that our purpose?� Dietrich seemed contemplative about this as he said it, trying to find an excuse to keep the volumes without angering the Del Var�s Master of Records. Brother Hyshen kept the library immaculate, with all of its contents perfectly catalogued and cross-referenced, and he certainly would cut Dietrich off from the ancient texts without a second thought if he so much as thought that they were being misused.
Hyshen cocked his head at the impudence associated with Dietrich�s statement.
�These records are lent to you at my sole discretion. Mine alone. If you had not made the arrangement so�agreeable, let�s say, I would never had given you them. Even with your contribution to the Records I am reluctant to continue letting you study them.� Hyshen squinted and licked his lower lip as Dietrich scowled at the proclamation.
�Furthermore,� Hyshen continued, �you will not be flippant with me over their use. If I find out that you are using them for anything other than your supposed healing artifact, I will have you restricted from the Records posthaste.�
Dietrich was surprised at the compendium keeper�s building anger. Hyshen was known to have a cool temper through most all situations, a quality that served him well as the Master of Records. Dietrich was so surprised in fact that he decided to become agreeable.
�Yes, Brother. I will return these that I have completed to you in the morning. If I may continue to hold those that I have not inspected?� Dietrich hoped that Hyshen would not be arrogant with his power enough to deny the materials, but one could never tell.
After a moment of silent contemplation, Hyshen responded.
�Yes,� he said. �I will let you continue to peruse these volumes at your leisure.� After his reply, Hyshen donned his hood once more and moved towards the oaken door that lead into the hall. As he reached the door he stopped short and turned to look at Dietrich once more.
�After all,� Hyshen whispered, �you are only working to further healing arts to benefit all of mankind?� Smirking and silently chuckling, Hyshen turned and exited the study, leaving Dietrich silently flipping the pages of a new text.
Four ancient men set around a grand oaken table. They did not speak, they only looked at each other in stoic silence. All around them on the cold stone walls were tapestries that depicted heroes and villains that had come and long since passed in the ancient reaches of antiquity. Massive bookcases adorned every available location along the perimeter of the room, with other trunks stuffed with volumes resting on the worn floor. The only part of the room not covered with paper and leather was a grand fireplace, blazing without the need of any wood to sustain it.
Dietrich shivered and put down his parchment. He had been up all night once again, and morning light was peeking through his scarlet drapes. Sleep had become ever more elusive each passing day as his studies consumed him fully. At the moment he�d been transcribing his theories, consolidating the knowledge he had gained from his research.
Far from the keep, deep into the forest, something stirred. It came from inside a depression in the limestone riverbank, a mysterious convalescence that floated through the nooks and crannies of its lair to the surface. Slowly collecting itself, it hovered over the surface of the water, a formless black cloud swirling, refracting the bright moonlight that pierced the chill air that evening.
Pray to captainjesus