Table of Contents

Chapter One: Too Perplexing for a Three Year Old
Chapter Two: At Least They Didn't Shave My Head
Chapter Three: Viral
Chapter Four: Taking Loser to a Whole New Level
Chapter Five: Hospital Food and Daily Crosswords
Chapter Six: Lookin' Sexy
Chapter Seven: At Least You Squished His Balls
Chapter Eight: Yeti Madness
Chapter Nine: Is My Car Supposed to be Making That Noise?
Chapter Ten: The Epitome of Complicated


Chapter Five: Hospital Food and Daily Crosswords

The icy wind stung my face as I rushed across the busy street up the steep ramps and through the automatic doors. The waiting room smelled stale and it appeared as if ten hallways were branching from this one room. From then on, it was instinct and the proper usage of signs and arrows to find our way to the seventh floor of Hampton, where I would snake my way through the hallways crowded with hospital carts and feeble old people on their daily walks with their nurse. After what seemed to be an endless search, I found the one room I had been looking for.
My Grandma was already in the company of my Aunt when I arrived, but her “shift” had just ended. It was now my Mom and my turn to hang around for hours on end in the pale and awkwardly lit room that we would be calling home for the next two weeks. Some days were harder to handle than others, especially the day that my feeble, dying Grandma told my mom in detail what she wanted to be clothed in at her own funeral. I acted like I wasn’t listening and stared intently at the gray and black crossword puzzle that I found in the week old newspaper sitting on the heater by the window. I didn’t even understand some of the descriptions of the words that they were asking for. After the laborious hour and a half of finding ten words that I couldn’t get to fit in the spaces no matter how hard I tried, I went on a hunt for some food. You would be surprised at how much tastier hospital food is than the average stereotype. I managed to weasel my way around the floor until I knew it like the back of my hand, and I found the “Patients Only” room. It contained a lot tastier things than the family waiting room down the hall. When no one was watching, I quickly snuck out some ice cream and a tiny can of Sprite.
As I walked back down the dimly lit hall, awkward patches of light reflected on the floor from the open doors leading to rooms where the sunlight was bursting through the windows, and I realized that this was my life. As much as I loved my Grandma, I couldn’t change what was happening to her. I couldn’t change how much time she was given, because the passage of our time on this Earth is inevitable, and it takes the strongest of people to accept that.

Chapter Eight: Yeti MadnessAbominable.jpg

You’d be amazed at how many movies there are out there dedicated to the sole belief that there is something more powerful than the average man: The Yeti, which also happens to be known as the Abominable Snowman, Sasquatch, or more familiarly known as Bigfoot. Most of these creatively titled movies happen to be quietly sitting untouched on the shelves of the Pekin Family Video in the two for one dollar section. I wonder why.Nothing accommodates a perfect summer night quite like a brand new tub of Moose Tracks ice cream and a few of these well thought out and selected Yeti movies. After searching for nearly an hour and double checking every corner of the “crappy movie section,” as I like to call it, we rented the only three movies we could find, tentatively titled Abominable, Yeti: Curse of the Snow Demon, and Sasquatch. As we sat on the couch and dug our faces into the cold ice cream, the DVD started to play. Nothing on this Earth could compare to the absurdity of the should-be “B” movies that I wasted six grueling hours of my life watching. It’s unfathomable how the directors and writers of these appalling movies try to make nudity and big furry creatures stomping around a forest go together. I continued to gawk at the screen as though it mad me sick. It became difficult to suppress my giggles when innocent miniature clay people would get torn from their houses high up in the mountains by a very unrealistic looking man in a cheap Yeti costume. After five minutes of the second movie had passed, I had the sudden urge to stick my head in a toilet, then I remembered that there was more than an hour left. I’m normally never the person to listen to when it comes to making predictions about movies, but when you’re face to face with a movie where the plot line is dead obvious from the very beginning, I can be right. The way it seemingly always goes is that some group of adventurers get stuck in a far away place high up in the mountains where they are faced with certain death due to more or less their own lack of a brain and failure to comprehend that YOU DO NOT GO OUSTIDE when there is a big, hairy, scary monster peeking through your window. Yet, there always seems to be the one extremely dumb girl with big boobs who by chance manages to escape her death while the guy with all the muscles gets torn apart. I could not comprehend the thoughts passing through my mind when I gazed upon the television across the room, because there were none. It’s as simple as that.
As much as I hated the fact that I had to trudge my way with my droopy eyelids through six hours of complete absurdity, I managed to get a few laughs here and there. There’s nothing quite like spending the night with someone you love and getting to do something unintelligent, like rot your brain with Yeti movies.

Survey Questions:

1. How do you feel right now?
Well, there is not a cluster of words I could manage to form together in an audible manner for the reader of this answer to understand well enough to comprehend how it is exactly that I just so happen to be feeling right now. For me to give an answer, I would myself have to know how I truly felt. I feel very uncomfortable because it's 11:43 P.M. and I have to be awake and at school in 7 hours acting chipper as a bird (simile) and pretending like I got more than 4 hours of sleep and am able to function properly without the assistance of my best friend in the whole wide world: caffeine. So, to sum it all up, I feel absolutely wonderful, glorious, awesome, faaaantastic, peachy keen, and perfectly capable of carrying on an intelligent conversation, thanks for asking.

2. What noises do you hear right now?
As of this particular moment, I hear the dull background humming noise that a house makes inside of the walls that you were always afraid of during your childhood because the pure fact that it was unknown scared the living sh*t out of you. I also hear the distant, muted noise of the "boo-doop" that Facebok chat makes when someone who shares your passion for late nights messages you. The final thing I hear is the sweet, systematic sound (alliteration) of The Forecast coming through my speakers in sustained amounts. Life is good.

3. Where were you born?
I just so happened to have been born in the bathroom of a McDonalds, and I don't like to talk about it, thank you very much. Actually, scratch that, it was a lie. I'm sorry, but I was really born in a normal hospital amidst all the intertwining roads and highways enlosing a city like a snake that's wrapped around and squeezing his prey. The city of Houston, Texas is no ordinary city. Often referred to as the hub of the sex-trafficing world, Houston is considered my home away from home. I find the city to be my best friend when I need one the most (personification). Crowded with interesting people, I shove my worries down the cavernous side walk cracks hoping that I don't fall in in the process. It's a tedious task, but my worries are eventually deep in the interworkings of the city and already forgotten. I guess that's just how you feel when you know you're home.

4. Look around, describe what you see.
I'm currently laying in the most uncomfortable position on my bed trying to maneuver my way around the pointless objects scattered around me. I'm ogranized, but I've got better things do to than keep my own room clean. I see to my right next to my pillow, a map of the United States tacked to a bulletin board marking all of the places I've gone and would love to go to. To my left I see my brain food, a.k.a. Fannie May chocolates for munching on as I try to concentrate on this assignment and to take the pain of my headache away. My chipmunk colored wall are covered in random clusters of posters, pictures, drawings, and anything and everything representing a memory. I hang on to the smallest, dumbest things, but they're often the things that mean the most.

5. What kind of vehicle do you drive (or if you don’t have a vehicle what kind do you wish you drove)?

I currently drive the worlds worst car to break into. I would know this, becaue many a time have I locked my keys inside the green death trap that is my Chevy Cavalier. Bertha, as I have decided to name her, is such a beast that she could fly (hyperbole), although probably not very well. With my luck, she would probably over-heat in mid-air and send us crashing to the Earth in a fiery spiral of doom. That's how that dream normally turns out. SPOILER ALERT: Everyone dies.

6. I can't live without music.
It's my addiction. I make playlist after playist after playist, which eventually turns into CD after CD after CD and all of them somehow end up scattered around my car sending little rainbow-colored light dots (imagery) dancing around the seats and dashboard whenever I hit the smallest bump. Most people think that food is something that's mandatory for their existance. Great for them. For me, it's 100% music. There is no better way to express human emotion than through peculiar noises made by peculiar instruments.

7. Do you believe that everyone deserves a second chance? Why or why not?
Absolutely 100% no. There's maybe a handful of decent, deserving-of-second-chances people out there, but the truth is, a lot people just lie and manipulate other people. I can understand that people are human and they make honest mistakes, but you would think that over the course of their life, they would take some time to step back and get a few life lessons from every mistake they've made. That way, they wouldn't have to ask for second chances. I'm always up for giving away second chances to people who I think feel sorry for what they did, whatever that may be, they want to make things right, and most importantly, they've learned their lesson. But the sad thing is, no one ever truly learns.

8. You’re on death row and you get to choose your last meal. Describe your choice.
I would eat mound after mound of my dad's German Fried Noodles with Bread Crumbs and my mom's Fried Potatoes. No one would ever be capable of cooking like my dad. Nearly every recipe of his he has learned from his mother. Now, my mom on the other hand, she's got her moments, Fried Potatoes being one of them. In fact, I would probably do something incredibly illegel to be put on death row if it mean that I could have this meal. I would literally die for this food. Maybe not.

9. What’s your biggest flaw?
It's a good thing that Wiki Pages doesn't have time stamps noting when I published this, because it's 1:45 A.M., and I've still got other homework to do. Yes, I bet you can already tell my biggest flaw is procrastinating. I get things done though, and I try, for the most part. I am just in a perpetual cycle of finding myself caught between two possibilites: friends or homework? And we all know that I do not pick the latter, obviously. It's not my fault that my friends are just so awesome that I never want to do my homework...

10. Is your room/house clean?
My room is one of the most cluttered places on the continent. I don't know about the rest of the house though, since I barely ever leave the vicinity of the four walls that I spend most of my time staring at. With how much time I spend in here, I'm even surprised that I'm not motivated enough to get up and clean to make it suitable for existance, but to be quite honest, I. Just. Don't. Care. I know where everything is (for the most part) and it's not horribly messy, so I don't clean unless by force or if I strangely start to feel like a hamster who's cage hasn't been cleaned in months. At least it doesn't smell like a hamster in here.

Character Creation

Name: Charles Hayward
Also goes by Charlie

Biography: Charlie grew up in a small town in Alabama. He didn’t have many friends, just a close few that were his best. He graduated from a small high school and went to the University of Hawaii where he studied Marine Biology. Having an intense love of the ocean ever since he was little, he found this to be the perfect career for him. He works in the field, spending most of the year out on the water scuba diving and doing research. He’s got no family. His parents died in a car crash when he was younger and he was an only child. He lost touch with his close friends and isn’t very close with anyone he works with. Charlie is content with spending time alone. When he isn’t working, he loves the city almost as much as the ocean. He stays in an apartment in New Orleans.

Age: 27

Height: 5’8”

Weight: 140 lbs

Body Type: Charlie is skinny for most people his age. He needs not to work out, for he gets exercise from swimming. Most people would describe him as lanky.

Face Type: He has a small face with small features. His face fits the golden ratio perfectly.

Complexion: No matter what he does, Charlie cannot get tan. He is forever pale with ghostly white completion.

Eyes: Hidden deep in a sea of emerald green, Charlie’s eyes scream “mystery.”

Hair: Tousled dirty blonde hair falls down past his forehead. Almost to the point of becoming dreadlocks, a brush is an untouched object.

Clothing Style: Straight jeans and pale colored button down shirts with long sleeves bunched up around his forearms are his regular attire.

Speaking Style: Very soft spoken, if he ever talks. Has a low pitched voice that comes out in soft mumbles when spoken to.

General Demeanor: People often think that Charlie has no interest in them, but in actuality, he just thinks a lot. Very few people see his real personality. He is humorous when he chooses to be. He is one of the nicest people anyone has ever met and would never think about intentionally hurting someone.

Career: Oceanographer

Prejudices: He can’t stand ignorance. One of the few times Charlie will speak when not spoken to is to correct someone who pretends to know what they’re talking about. Out-smarting people is his main game.

Best Qualities: Very honest, Caring, Smart

Worst Qualities: Tends to push people away, Not outgoing, Sometimes TOO honest

Weaknesses: Charlie is not a very big people-person. He prefers to spend time alone, and that has caused him to have a very little social life.

Hobbies: Likes to run, Loves walking around the city aimlessly, Travelling

Talents: Graduated at the top of his class in both High School and College and is a very talented Scuba Diver

Photo Poetry001_(2)aegr.jpg

The Self-Unseeing - Thomas Hardy

Here is the ancient floor,
Footworn and hollowed and thin,
Here was the former door
Where the dead feet walked in.

She sat here in her chair,
Smiling into the fire;
He who played stood there,
Bowing it higher and higher.

Childlike, I danced in a dream;
Blessings emblazoned that day;
Everything glowed with a gleam;
Yet we were looking away!