A Conversation In Three Parts: Part 1 : Alligators and Fireflies

So, this morning I was talking to The Parents (2/3rds of them, my mother & stepfather) about fireflies. I'd found this really cool light that imitates fireflies, and I was very excited. A firefly light would be just the thing I would use if I were hosting a cocktail party outside in a fancy garden. If, you know, I could host cocktail parties and wasn't a high school student and had a really fancy garden.


But nonetheless, I found (and still find) the light beautiful and captivating and so I rambled on about how I love fireflies.
Then Parent was like, You find fireflies in swampy areas. Like Georgia. Where there are fireflies there are gators.
Which we all realized was rather a bad combination. A person would be mindlessly chasing fireflies and then get eaten by an alligator. Or maybe that would just be me.

So I came up with the marvelous idea that we should cross-breed fireflies with alligators so that alligators will light up when they get excited.

So imagine an alligator is hiding in a shrubbery

As it turns out my idea to draw an alligator hiding in shrubbery to avoid having to draw an actual alligator was a bad one because 1) I'm not much more capable of drawing shrubbery then I am of drawing alligators and 2) there is really no evidence alligators hide in shrubbery.

It's difficult to see when one is focusing with their entire heart and soul on capturing fireflies. But with an alligator-firefly cross breed, when the alligator got excited, it would look more like:

It still does not look like a shrubbery. It doesn't even look like it wants to be a shrubbery.

The Parents were skeptical, but I am positive this could be a thing.

It's Been a While, It's Going to be a While

I've not posted in a while, but I am not brainwashed, kidnapped, or off on a magical adventure.

My favorite teacher died and I'm just not in the right mood for posting anything right now.

More later.

How To Make Fantasy Stories More Interesting

For people who've read fantasy stories, or even just seen the book covers, it's obvious there are certain stereotypical characters and creatures that will appear. The quirky old mentor, the spunky love interest, the dragon, the unicorn, etc.

 I'm proud to say I've come up with a clever way to spice up stereotypical fantasy stories: new creatures never before used!!

The Merclops

 

 The Drancess

 The Dwairy

 Add any one of these three new creatures to any fantasy story, and things are bound to get more interesting!!

How The Story of Little Bunny Foo Foo Really Went Down

Sergeant Good Fairy never forgets to read the perps their Mother Goose Rights (which were enacted after Mother Goose was arresting for supplementing her income by selling swan eggs on the black market but got off free and clear because no one told her her rights).

Many don't realize this, but the old nursery rhyme of Little Bunny Foo Foo is really a celebration of the effective employment of law to punish repeat offenders. The real story started out like an episode of Cops and ended like an episode of Law and Order.


However the original rhyme didn't sound so catchy when detailing the arrest, arraignment, jury selection, appeals and witness testimonies.



On the subject of  nursery rhymes: Why do the king's horses try and put Humpty Dumpty back together again? I mean, I know it was a group effort, but I can't see the horses possessing enough fine motor skills to really be of any use.





Sorry I have not posted recently, I'm sick again, working on college applications, and attempting to do National Novel Writing Month (the NaNoWriMo is tough).

I've Created a Whole New Page

I've created a whole new page, purely for some of my more brilliant ideas. Which currently contain charity organizations like Damsels4Dragons.

Recently I'm sort of a nervous wreck anxious about hearing back about if I qualify for this nice scholarship, so I decided to create a whole new page on my blog instead of making this a productive weekend.


 Well this post is boring, so here's an old doodle I did in math class a few years ago:

I Might Just Have The Reincarnation of The Black Death

First off, I want to apologize for posting nothing in so long. In my defense, I'm back at school wrestling derivatives, grappling existentialism,  brawling with the Spanish past participle, battling dual federalism vs. confederal federalism, and tackling Bizet's Carmen. And, I'm sick.

You see, for me sickness comes in a few key stages. Like with most situations, my first reaction is denial.

Denial

"It's just allergies! I'm not sure which one, but it is!"

I'm at first convinced my sneezing is allergies, even if it isn't allergy season. Or convinced my stomach ache is imaginary, even if I'm grabbing my stomach in pain. Or convinced my cough is all the dust in the air, even if I cleaned the house yesterday.

This period can last an embarrassingly long time.

At some point though, when it seems I'm reaching the depths of my misery, I'm forced to admit I'm sick.

This brings us to the stage I like to call Sick and Desperate.

Sick and Desperate

At this stage, I've already admitted I'm sick. I'm carrying around a tissue box like it's the latest and greatest accessory that I simply can't put down. I carry throat lozenges in my pocket like spare change. 

It's at this point that a desperate need kicks in to be surrounded by people. I think this was a clever ploy created by the germs, a need to be social right when you're most infectious. I start trying to get people to hug me, and try doing things with friends, not wanting to be left alone in my pathetic contagious state. They just want to escape whatever super-germ has possessed me.

There is a state after this, and it is even worse. I call it the Uhhhhgggmgmhhm State.

The Uhhhhgggmgmhhm State

This is the stage where I stop caring about things like appearance. It's where I don't even care anymore what day it is or that I don't recognize myself in the mirror. I just want the sickness to go away. Usually I'm curled up in the corner somewhere, muttering  something like 'uhhhhgggmgmhhm' every few minutes.

At this point I usually don't believe there is such a thing as healthy anymore. 

That's kind of where I am now. I have the back-to-school plague, the common cold made deadly through the cesspool we call the student body. Usually my colds only last like three days, one day for each stage, and then they're gone. However, during the school year I can't afford to miss my AP or college credit courses, so I'm at school getting reintroduced to germs on a daily basis.

If I do not start coughing up blood, or losing limbs to leprosy,  I hope to blog more often in the future.

Uhhhhgggmgmhhm.

There ARE Monsters In Your Closet, I Killed One The Other Day

The other day, I was going through my closet, minding my own business when I saw something that made my blood run cold.

A giant spider perched on an orange tank top. Some might say he was minding his own business, but I believe differently. I think he was lying-in-wait, preparing for the one day when I would wake up and decide, "I should totally wear my orange tank top!".

Luckily for me I was not attacked because I was not alone in the house (take that evil spider! ha!) and I was able to raise the Special Spider Detection Alarm (ie I gasped, jumped back, and cried out for help like a small child).

Help soon arrived to whisk away the shirt and shake out the spider, but deep down my primal instincts told me it wasn't over. This is why it's always important to listen to your instincts, because I was totally right.

The day past, and I soon forgot about the monster that had lurked in my closet, until I returned to my room to sleep. The house was dark, I was alone, I turned to look back at my closet (maybe it was some sort of sixth sense) and I saw it.

The spider was back, sitting and waiting at the corner of my closet, near my bedroom door. He was trying to force me away from the door, I just knew it. I had to admire the spider's devious tactics. On retrospect I'm pretty sure he spent his early days growing up on some army training camp, or special ops facility.

I realized I was trapped, and I couldn't call for help. I had to act.

What Happened Next

 Adrenaline coursed through my veins, and bravery filled me from head to toe. I knew it was time for the final face off, the last stand. I did what any brave soldier would do. I grabbed my Hawaiian themed umbrella and attempted to whack the crap out of the spider

You're probably thinking, "Wow Kendrah! That is incredibly brave and self-less! You must have done him in with one hit!" but you'd only be half right. The spider, upon seeing my brutal strength and keen intelligence made a run for the door.

Blows glanced off his exoskeleton (it was probably infused with titanium or some such substance) as I chased him. I knew I had to end it. I had to protect my people, I couldn't let him get away. One hit from the umbreella seemed to stun him momentarily, I saw my opening.

I went into a berserker's rage, swinging and swinging and jabbing with my weapon until the spider was lifeless. 

Then I calmly deposited his body into the trash and slept with the calm and grace of a seasoned warrior.

What Actually Happened Next

I froze for a moment and just stood there staring at the spider. Fear coursed through my veins. I stood there for another moment. I grabbed my Hawaiian themed umbrella for protection. I felt filled with nervous energy but I knew my emotional and mental state was quickly deteriorating with the close proximity of the spider.

So I tried to hit the spider with my umbrella and missed miserably. The spider started to run away. I knew I had to end it. I had to protect myself from being haunted by this spider's possible continuing existence in my house, I couldn't let him get away.

So I kept trying to beat the crap out of the spider, but after every hit he kept moving a little.

So I hit him a bunch more. Then I realized it was the force of my blows that were sending his dead body flying.

So then I hit him a few more times.

And then I hit him a few more. 

And then I stared at his corpse with the sinking realization that I was going to have to clean it up. Otherwise I would be up the whole night half convinced he wasn't really dead, and his body was so close he could definitely come after me.

Shaking, I snatched up a wad of tissues that was equal to about half the box, I gingerly grabbed the body and (still shaking) deposited it in the trash. 

Then I slept with the calm and grace of a seasoned warrior.

My ancestors from which I get my warrior instincts: