Why Neal is Awesome
I'm going to take it from the top. So first of all, I decided yesterday would be a fun time to play around with my control panel and set up a password. It also happened that I have no keyboard. I left that thing at Alfred, apparently. I'm typing right now because I stole the old grimy keyboard from my dad's old grimy computer, which is broken anyways. But yesterday I was without keyboard and had to type via the on-screen keyboard under accessories. My mind is straying, but the point was supposed to be that I screwed myself over when I got to the sign on screen and couldn't type in a password, and thus had to steal this keyboard. To begin, after I woke up at 2pm(friday) and left by 5pm and got a hair(most of them) cut, I went home, called Neal, went to the Den, and watched kids playing Magic. It's still the same group of people at the Den, which is good, because they're all pretty cool. Greg and Tom McKinney were being especially hilarious, but the group in general is funny. We played some and watched some from 7-9 then left for Neal's. I talked with Sam for a bit and turns out he and his friend had hosted a LAN party just last week, Friday, with Halo2 and prizes. They got sponsored by some companies, thus the free prizes, and had over 80 people there. Bummer I didn't know about it. I played Magic and talked with neal until about 130 then left home. I'd said I would be home at 12 at the latest and I felt kinda guilty being later, but I consoled myself by saying that my dad's asleep anyways and things of that nature. So after that, I pointlessly played Warcraft III for a couple hours from 2-5am until I started to get tired.
Today, my dad woke me up at 10am and I was super-tired. I really didn't want to get up and he started yelling and saying all the things he had already accomplished that day, and 10am wasn't asking much for me to be up, and why didn't I go to bed sooner, asked, "you do get up for classes,-don't you?" yada yada yada. So I got up and zombied around for half and hour, then we left to find a tree. The second place we went to had a decent tree, and my dad paid the 25$ for the thing. I drove back and was super tired still so I convinced my dad that I could take a nap until I picked up Neal to go to Aunt Sue's party. My nap ran an hour long, and I had a spiffy dream, until I drove my dad to get ice for the party and dropped him off. Then I went to Neal's and woke him up. He went to bed at 9am, so he was running on 5 hours of sleep, but he was far less tired upon waking than I had been. After his gf called and I spent another 45 minutes there, we left for my aunt's party.
This party is an annual event, where relatives on my mom's side get together with friends and neighbors and eat and talk. Usually, this is something that I don't look forward to at all: no one is there that is my age because I'm in between generations. The youngest is Delacey and she's 11, and the next youngest is like 23 or 24. So there's six years difference either way, and then stack on the fact that adults are always trying to make conversation with me, and you have a bad time waiting to happen. Adults always ask the same questions, "how's college. do you like it. what's your major. glad you had break?" It's incredibly repetitive. Everybody, everybody, asks those questions to the point where I respond with memorized answers with a monotone, and that effort that I make to seem interested in their question gets washed away. This year I was just hoping to survive it again. Luckily for me, I found this great way to have fun in bad situations; it's called: invite Neal. I feel like I'm advertising for Neal now (buy stocks! rent Neal for a day!). Seriously, he makes any occasion fun, and I don't know exactly how he does it. We avoided adults for a large majority of the time, played darts, went sledding with Delacey and her friends, threw snow at them and walked on the pond. Delacey is an obsessively violent child who desires to beat up on those who are older and bigger, and Neal and I rose to the challenge by dunking her head in the snow, rolling her down the hill, burrying her in snow, et cetera. We pretty much got followed around by my cousin Delacey and her friends for a couple hours, we played some Battleship, watched Bambi, and had a great time. Finally, just as we were leaving, Neal somehow got asked to juggle and he managed to get everyone entertained and laughing just before we left. He has mad entertainment skills and I'm glad I know him. He's just plain so awesome that being around him makes things fun. So we came back to my farm at about 7 and played magic and he taught me gin, and we played some go fish and rummy. We went online and he showed me some pictures of those he knows in vermont at the facebook.com. Finally, at 1am I came up with the bright idea that we should go and sit in gagne's driveway, so when he arrives home we'll be there waiting there and he'll be like "what the..." and it would be funny. But his mom, when I had called his house, said he wouldn't be home until two. So we went to go find something to do and I pulled out my seventh grade yearbook. Oh my gosh that was fun.
I can remember things I was thinking at that age, especially in terms of how I would look back on middle school years from then, and that is exactly what was happening. Glimpsing at the past is awesome. We marvelled over how different/funny everyone looked back then, and read all the hilarious comments in my yearbook. Turns out I had hung out with some people I didn't even remember existed. I was like, "oh yeah! I used to hang out with that kid in such and such class." People praised me highly and I was loved by all! Then we moved on to identifying which girls we thought were hot back then and which ones are hot now. We have almost the same taste in women so we agreed on all but two girls. I remember girls used to be so freakin' hot back in seventh grade. We recalled teachers we had and things that we remembered about them. It was awesome. Then I busted out my sixth grade yearbook. It was dramatic how much of a difference there was. In grade six, there are about 3 hot girls in the class, and in seventh there are about 40. I'm thinking that looks don't play all the role in deciding who's hot and who's not, but it has more to do with your perception of them. People I had a crush on seemed like they were glowing in their pictures, when really they were just alright. Anyway, it was quite fun. Back in sixth grade I had gone through with Chris Otto and circled all the girls we thought were hot and I stay firm to what I thought back then. Then we had underlined people we thought were cool apparently, because Neal's name was underlined. I was like, "wtf? I didn't even know you back then!" Then we found out we had been in the same math class in seventh grade, and it was interesting finding out all these friends neal once had or hung out with. And I found gagne's picture in the seventh grade soccer picture; he had been in all my classes and clarinet lessons, and math classes and still I hadn't noticed him. It's crazy how later you can look back and be like, "wow, I didn't know you at all. I just ignored you-I never thought you would wind up being my friend." It was really interesting. I don't know why I type so much. It just feels like I'm telling all the things that were important to me today to someone. When I say the words in my head it's like I'm talking out loud and they want to hear everything I say. In reality, no more than 2 people will ever read this, and more than likely, they will have given up reading by now just because I'm blabbing on about nonsense. Words lose all their flavor when somebody isn't there to emphasize them and gesture with their hands, and hear their excitement and tone of voice. Telling someone first person makes stories far more interesting than reading it on paper. I suppose that's why my writing is worded how I talk. I talk in my head as if I'm telling someone the story and I type what I say. It's supposed to make reading the events more lifelike and energetic, but it's probably just confusing to follow. Anyway, finally we drove down to gagne's driveway and sat there for a while with my lights on facing the house. We got there at 220 and numerous lights were on in the gagne household. 3 cars were there so we assumed he was already inside and unpacked, but we feared the gagne mother and father too much to knock on the door at this hour. So we sat there for 15 minutes and flashed my brights a few times, and the air in the car was humorous. Hanging out with Neal is a blast. Nobody ended up peering through the blinds at us, but on the other hand, nobody came out with a shotgun or called the cops, so we eventually left. Thus concludes my last two days. Each day I live and I hang out with neal is a good day. So neal, if you one day read this, thank you for being so awesome. You make life fun to the max. And Christmas is next friday! I still have to do all my shopping! My sister has arranged to do this on monday. It's good to see her again. Oh well, after I decorate the tree tomorrow, I'll hopefully build some decks, get together with alex and gagne and neal, and have a geekout. If this happens, tomorrow will be a great day as well, especially if I don't wake up dead tired. Now I must bed myself. To night!
Today, my dad woke me up at 10am and I was super-tired. I really didn't want to get up and he started yelling and saying all the things he had already accomplished that day, and 10am wasn't asking much for me to be up, and why didn't I go to bed sooner, asked, "you do get up for classes,-don't you?" yada yada yada. So I got up and zombied around for half and hour, then we left to find a tree. The second place we went to had a decent tree, and my dad paid the 25$ for the thing. I drove back and was super tired still so I convinced my dad that I could take a nap until I picked up Neal to go to Aunt Sue's party. My nap ran an hour long, and I had a spiffy dream, until I drove my dad to get ice for the party and dropped him off. Then I went to Neal's and woke him up. He went to bed at 9am, so he was running on 5 hours of sleep, but he was far less tired upon waking than I had been. After his gf called and I spent another 45 minutes there, we left for my aunt's party.
This party is an annual event, where relatives on my mom's side get together with friends and neighbors and eat and talk. Usually, this is something that I don't look forward to at all: no one is there that is my age because I'm in between generations. The youngest is Delacey and she's 11, and the next youngest is like 23 or 24. So there's six years difference either way, and then stack on the fact that adults are always trying to make conversation with me, and you have a bad time waiting to happen. Adults always ask the same questions, "how's college. do you like it. what's your major. glad you had break?" It's incredibly repetitive. Everybody, everybody, asks those questions to the point where I respond with memorized answers with a monotone, and that effort that I make to seem interested in their question gets washed away. This year I was just hoping to survive it again. Luckily for me, I found this great way to have fun in bad situations; it's called: invite Neal. I feel like I'm advertising for Neal now (buy stocks! rent Neal for a day!). Seriously, he makes any occasion fun, and I don't know exactly how he does it. We avoided adults for a large majority of the time, played darts, went sledding with Delacey and her friends, threw snow at them and walked on the pond. Delacey is an obsessively violent child who desires to beat up on those who are older and bigger, and Neal and I rose to the challenge by dunking her head in the snow, rolling her down the hill, burrying her in snow, et cetera. We pretty much got followed around by my cousin Delacey and her friends for a couple hours, we played some Battleship, watched Bambi, and had a great time. Finally, just as we were leaving, Neal somehow got asked to juggle and he managed to get everyone entertained and laughing just before we left. He has mad entertainment skills and I'm glad I know him. He's just plain so awesome that being around him makes things fun. So we came back to my farm at about 7 and played magic and he taught me gin, and we played some go fish and rummy. We went online and he showed me some pictures of those he knows in vermont at the facebook.com. Finally, at 1am I came up with the bright idea that we should go and sit in gagne's driveway, so when he arrives home we'll be there waiting there and he'll be like "what the..." and it would be funny. But his mom, when I had called his house, said he wouldn't be home until two. So we went to go find something to do and I pulled out my seventh grade yearbook. Oh my gosh that was fun.
I can remember things I was thinking at that age, especially in terms of how I would look back on middle school years from then, and that is exactly what was happening. Glimpsing at the past is awesome. We marvelled over how different/funny everyone looked back then, and read all the hilarious comments in my yearbook. Turns out I had hung out with some people I didn't even remember existed. I was like, "oh yeah! I used to hang out with that kid in such and such class." People praised me highly and I was loved by all! Then we moved on to identifying which girls we thought were hot back then and which ones are hot now. We have almost the same taste in women so we agreed on all but two girls. I remember girls used to be so freakin' hot back in seventh grade. We recalled teachers we had and things that we remembered about them. It was awesome. Then I busted out my sixth grade yearbook. It was dramatic how much of a difference there was. In grade six, there are about 3 hot girls in the class, and in seventh there are about 40. I'm thinking that looks don't play all the role in deciding who's hot and who's not, but it has more to do with your perception of them. People I had a crush on seemed like they were glowing in their pictures, when really they were just alright. Anyway, it was quite fun. Back in sixth grade I had gone through with Chris Otto and circled all the girls we thought were hot and I stay firm to what I thought back then. Then we had underlined people we thought were cool apparently, because Neal's name was underlined. I was like, "wtf? I didn't even know you back then!" Then we found out we had been in the same math class in seventh grade, and it was interesting finding out all these friends neal once had or hung out with. And I found gagne's picture in the seventh grade soccer picture; he had been in all my classes and clarinet lessons, and math classes and still I hadn't noticed him. It's crazy how later you can look back and be like, "wow, I didn't know you at all. I just ignored you-I never thought you would wind up being my friend." It was really interesting. I don't know why I type so much. It just feels like I'm telling all the things that were important to me today to someone. When I say the words in my head it's like I'm talking out loud and they want to hear everything I say. In reality, no more than 2 people will ever read this, and more than likely, they will have given up reading by now just because I'm blabbing on about nonsense. Words lose all their flavor when somebody isn't there to emphasize them and gesture with their hands, and hear their excitement and tone of voice. Telling someone first person makes stories far more interesting than reading it on paper. I suppose that's why my writing is worded how I talk. I talk in my head as if I'm telling someone the story and I type what I say. It's supposed to make reading the events more lifelike and energetic, but it's probably just confusing to follow. Anyway, finally we drove down to gagne's driveway and sat there for a while with my lights on facing the house. We got there at 220 and numerous lights were on in the gagne household. 3 cars were there so we assumed he was already inside and unpacked, but we feared the gagne mother and father too much to knock on the door at this hour. So we sat there for 15 minutes and flashed my brights a few times, and the air in the car was humorous. Hanging out with Neal is a blast. Nobody ended up peering through the blinds at us, but on the other hand, nobody came out with a shotgun or called the cops, so we eventually left. Thus concludes my last two days. Each day I live and I hang out with neal is a good day. So neal, if you one day read this, thank you for being so awesome. You make life fun to the max. And Christmas is next friday! I still have to do all my shopping! My sister has arranged to do this on monday. It's good to see her again. Oh well, after I decorate the tree tomorrow, I'll hopefully build some decks, get together with alex and gagne and neal, and have a geekout. If this happens, tomorrow will be a great day as well, especially if I don't wake up dead tired. Now I must bed myself. To night!
posted by Casey at 4:40 AM
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