Darkness

It's getting dark.

Visions of green- and gold-colored orbs are floating around me, spinning, threatening my very existence. All I can hear is this eerie, high-pitched noise, echoing through the corridors wherein haunts endless vibrations and brain-waves; it sounds not unlike the index-finger-sized crickets that ruthlessly invest homes in Yuma, Arizona, only slightly higher and 3 times more obnoxious. It's getting louder.

I'm delusional.

The orbs have transformed now. Instead of glowing spheres, they've all turned into bright-blue stars; the once-smoothed edges of miniature planet-like objects have become razor sharp. The sky must be falling. It can't be. They're spinning ever-so-close to my person. I'm scared.

It's now dark. Pitch black. What will happen now that all lights have been shut off and the darkness has taken over completely. Light must yet remain in somebody's heart.

Flashes of light. Brilliant. Imagine being on the top of a mountain; the sky is embedded with dark, unforgiving shapes. Lightening; bright flashes of electricity just before your face, your eyes tear up at the instantaneous reversal of their pupil-dilation. Your head begins to pound. Your body ceases entirely.

The volume of the cricket-like scream is increasing; intensifying. The darkness more immense, completely overtaking the frozen earth upon which you struggle to remain standing, ever-staggering.

I am surrounded.

An hour passes by. Two. Five. No, three. Time is now an illusion. Hands cramped up. Must hit pause. Must save state and rest while I still can, until the yellow dwarf can send forth its plasma rays and penetrate this dark cloud and these perpetual, pulsating flashes of light. Mixtures of green and gold orbs and blue stars, those relentless, selfish, life-absorbing fiends, now surround me completely; they move in. Not life-absorbing; life-sustaining. Warmth.

Light on the horizon.

I'm saved.

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Failed Attempt

Cannot get the creative juices flowing this early in the morning. So far I've tried to write a poem, write a different kind of poem, recite the probability density function (pdf) of the normal distribution, integrate said pdf into a poem, and, of course, fall back to sleep. Like so many other things in life, I have failed at each of these. Some other things I've failed at:

• Going 2 posts in a row without using bulleted lists or mentioning Ramona.
• Becoming a best-selling author.
• Moving back to Utah.
• Learning Japanese fluently by Christmas.
• Gaining a 10-foot vertical.

You'll notice something here. That's right, my creative juices are still not flowing. It was worth a try.

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The Black Mage

Cue Celtic Moon by Enya. Cue awesome CGI cutscene. Enter baddies. Enter Vivi Ornitier, The Black Mage.

Baddy 1 attacks. Dodged by Vivi. Baddy 2 attacks. Miss! Vivi readies flare. FLARE!!! Both baddies lose 1,000 hp and disintegrate right before your eyes in glorious, flawless CGI.

Cue victory music. Vivi dances. Vivi gains 358 experience points, 5 AP, a hi-potion, and a mythil ring.

If I know you as well as I think I do, you're asking yourself out loud in a mystified tone of voice in your almost-to-par British accent, "What?" Am I right? I might be. I have a 1 in 10 chance of being wrong. Does it scare you that I can see right through the wireless connections that are connecting you to this post, and hence to me, and can see your look of confusion? Does it bother you that I called you out on your poor ability to speak with a false accent? I've been called out on that many times. I've also been told the exact opposite. So what you choose to believe is up to you. As for me, I'm moving on.

And by moving on, I'm moving backwards, as if Hiro himself were controlling time. Hands on the clock moving counter-clockwise. Vivi loses experience points and AP and has to give back the mythril and hi-potion. Baddies reappear. CGI cut-scene plays from end to beginning, Enya intones in reverse sounding akin to the destroyer's music, until time freezes and you sit there face-to-face, staring eagerly at the strangest looking character you've ever seen. His skin appears to be made of burned marshmallows. He has no mouth. His planet-sized, circular eyes glow a raging, deep amber. He's short; shorter than you would expect. His appearance doesn't shout power nor pride nor alpha-mage; you see humility, compassion, curiosity.

Forward-moving time reveals itself to you once more. The all-familiar prelude to those familiar with Final Fantasy 4 enlightens your mind as the screen goes from dark to light, CGI movement commences, the strange character you deemed weak triumphs over evil with a blast of flare that could melt a red dwarf star. You begin to understand his true power.

Ladies and gentlemen, say hello to Vivi Ornitier, The Black Mage.

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Tweet Me!

Despite all claims that I do not have a sense of humor, I'm a pretty funny human. To prove this, I'd like to take this opportunity to repost some of my tweets from today. As you know, today was Apple's big music event. They announced some pretty cool crap, such as iOS 4 dot 1 and 4 dot 2, a multi-touch unit you clip to your shirt when you go for a jog (which stays out of the way if you get attacked by ninjas or zombies), among many others. The event ended with Steve Jobs sucking up to and allowing take the stage lead vocalist Chris Martin of a band whose performance left an almost-deep-enough impression for me to remember their name. I bet I just lost half of my readership.

During the event, as I just said, I twitted (?) some tweets. For those of you who follow @JLeonBell on twitter will have read these, and I apologize for making you read them again. Just look at the pretty picture at the bottom of the page. Thanks.

• New Apple store in china made from old iPhone 4 glass. #appleevent
• Words required when presenting at an apple event: beautiful, gorgeous.
• Going to switch to Microsoft. #stevejobs got a jack johnson song stuck in my head. #appleevent (there went the other half of my readership... hello, loneliness.)
• This just in: new #coldplay song boring and generic. #appleevent (can't lose any more subscribers...)
• @SmAuRsAeH everything I say is necessary.

I had to throw that last one in for the H of it. And it's entirely possible that only one of us (me) thinks any of those are remotely humorous. I'll leave you alone then. Here's my final tweet for the night. Adieu!

• Need to find a purple-haired lady! #ramona

(images not mine; Steve Jobs comments sarcasm; Coldplay comments not sarcasm)

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Lessons Taught

We were sitting in the living room in the house where I grew up: a conversation between a kid and his granddad. I had just graduated from high school and was feeling pressure from every which way to get a job and start saving for a two-year mission to a place at that point known only to One. Don't rush getting a job just yet, Leon. Once you start working, you'll be working for the rest of your life. Although the parents probably didn't appreciate this advice, I sure did. I spent 2 of the next 4 weeks at Lake Powell, burst an ear drum, played a lot of Final Fantasy 7 or maybe 8, and finally found a job working graveyard shift as a night stocker.

Approximately 13 years earlier, I was taught another magnificent truth: Chuck-A-Rama. For those of you that don't know, it's a glorious buffet from whence most Utahans obtain those extra pounds that keep them warm during the cold winter months. For a 5-year-old on his birthday, it was like walking into a land full of macaroni & cheese, chocolate milk, and endless desserts, for that is exactly what it is. Leon, you must eat a bowl of ice cream before and after each course, including dessert. It preps the stomach. Again, something the parents may not have appreciated. Something my stomach may not currently appreciate; regardless, I still take his advice to heart each time I eat at a buffet.

After my dad rolled an ankle right before a fathers-and-sons outing, he stepped in as proxy. There were two valuable lessons learned: 1) a hotdog is called a tube steak, and 2) if someone threatens you with a knife, it's not tattling to tell someone, such as an adult. We camped in some campground called The Old Church (which, I admit, freaked me out), roasted tube steaks on the fire, I played hide-and-go-seek with some other boys, one (punk) of which threatened me with his pocket knife, and we spent the night in the back of his old yellow Chevy Silverado on top of wooden closet doors, and I listened to him snore all night. I kept a watchful eye outside the window directly at the old church to make sure no ghouls came to attack us. I hate ghouls.

This morning that man was called on his next mission: to rejoin with his kin and close friends, to rest from his earthly labors, and to continue sharing the good news of the gospel to those in need. Poppy, I love you and I will miss you! Thanks for the support you always gave me and all of the invaluable lessons you taught! And if you get the chance, let me know if they have ice cream in heaven. Until we meet again.

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My Hero

I recently watched LOTR (if you don't know what that acronym stands for, you are unworthy to be reading this blog. Go on! Shew! Get out of here!) and loved every second of it. That's the nerdy side of me.

At one point, the critical (jerk) side of me popped out. Near the end of the 3rd film (about an hour left), they (if you don't know who "they" are, get out) are discussing a plan to help the ring-bearer succeed. Dialogue.

Gandolf: He's suffered a defeat, yes, but... behind the walls of Mordor, our enemy is regrouping.
Gimli: Let him stay there. *Let him rot!* Why should we care?
Gandolf: Because 10,000 Orcs now stand between Frodo and Mount Doom. I've sent him to his death.
Aragorn: No. There is still hope for Frodo. He needs time... and safe passage across the plains of Gorgoroth. We can give him that.
Gimli: How?
Aragorn: Draw out Sauron's armies. Empty his lands. Then we gather our full strength and march on the Black Gate.
Eomer: We cannot achieve victory through strength of arms.
Aragorn: Not for ourselves. But we can give Frodo his chance if we keep Sauron's Eye fixed upon us. Keep him blind to all else that moves.

(Interjection. Brace yourself.)

Legolas: A diversion!!

Well said, Legoman. So I just did a google search. You know how google [likes to think they are taking over the world] will give suggestions to help you finish a search query? I typed "legolas a" and the first suggestion that came up was "legolas a diversion." Apparently there are cults focused around his brilliance. Examples.

• Urban dictionary, definition #3. I am not responsible if you are offended by anything you see there.
• A facebook group. Caution: organizers of this group love Legolove so much they like to use colorful language. Again, I am not responsible.
• And a well-made video on YouTube I stumbled across. Lovely.

So, in honor of Legoland, I'm going to start throwing in the phrase A Diversion! wherever I deem it the most appropriate.

Next episode: I will discuss yet another brilliant statement by Legolegs (disguised William Turner) when he, trying to sound bright, throws out the obvious answer to an inquiry by Ichabod Crane. Barbosa!

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This Is My Annoying Post

Man I'm a slacker. I don't mean this to be a non-gender-neutral post, but it sure started out that way. OK, so I'm thinking I need to start blogging again. And not just once a month or so. I mean really start blogging. Here's why:

1. What else am I going to do?

You thought that was going to be a longer list, didn't you? It's not.

Also, I'd really like to start getting more traffic to this little site. Like 10 visits a day instead of 4. I think to do this, I'll just write a few words for which people frequently search. Such as...

Starcraft 2

Twitter

Leon

Facebook

OK, maybe one of those is a lie. And maybe I ran out of things to write. And this post is going no where. So basically I'll leave you with a few drawings. Let me know what you think. Or don't. And make sure you follow this blog if you haven't already! Or not. Whatever.

This is my new car, Vivi Ornitier "The Black Mage." Yes, that is the full name.

This is when I almost fell in a monster's pit.

Me and my new bff/gf Ramona.

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Karma

You've heard it said before. What goes around comes around. Personally, I never believed this statement...until last night. Keep in mind as you read this post that I'm not trying to brag about the kind and valiant things I've done. I mean, I'm just a really good person, and it's in my nature to be nice to everyone! If you don't believe me, just become my friend, and you'll be surprised at how much cool stuff I'll buy you. I take that back. I'm on a budget now, so I won't be buying you anything. In fact, I think it's YOU that should be buying stuff for ME!

Now that that's settled, it's time I move on to the next portion of the post, called the next portion of the post. I went out to Salt Lake City a couple of weeks ago for a [undisclosed event]. I was told that [undisclosed criticism] and [more undisclosed criticism] and that I just wouldn't work out for them. Feeling kind of discouraged, I went back to the airport to get the rental car (a Toyota Yaris!) and made my way out to Shane-and-Alese's. Some events cheered me up over the next couple of days:

• Endless Starcraft 2 gaming with Shane
• Eating at my favorite Mexican restaurant with some of my favorite people on this Earth
• Being challenged to eat the hottest hot pepper I've ever eaten at said restaurant by one of said people and spent the next 10-15 minutes with the hiccups, sweat pouring down my face, and I believe I my face had turned red (either from the hot pepper or embarrassment)
• Being challenged by the same person to practice not accepting challenges (i.e. Mountain Dew Challenge, Hot Pepper Challenge) (it was probably good that I accepted this last challenge because this past week at work I was challenged to drink an entire bottle of Shotgun Pete's XXX HOT BBQ Sauce. There's a warning on the label that says "Warning! Avoid contact with eyes or other sensitive areas at all costs!" One of those sensitive areas must be your mouth, because one tiny drop that you taste-test by barely skimming the top-most surface with your finger and licking it off burns hotter than the sun at midday, or any other time of the day since the sun burns the same temperature then too. I don't think the $20 I was offered to complete the challenge was worth death.)

Eating the hottest hot pepper. I don't remember that wall

being purple. Probably because everything looked red

after consuming the hottest hot pepper.

Fat-face after the pepper (end still in hand).

Still trying to "play it cool" 2 minutes after the pepper.

This angle makes my face look weird (it's not the angle, dummy!).

• Laser-engraving things and showing them off (in particular, the watch...picture to follow) to everyone I met

Just in case you forget what it is.

Advertisement for Water-Resist Shane.

Represents me very well: Zelda, anime, video games, Apple,

sword-fighting, shield-wielding, coolest person on Earth, you name it!

• Hanging out with Shane-and-Alese AND Robbie-and-Ali two nights in a row (!)
• Starcraft 2 with Shane
• Breakfast

Basically, it was my favorite. The whole trip. Except for the [undisclosed criticisms] that [undisclosed person] gave me. And the coming back to reality part.

As I sat there at the airport, I glanced around at the countless souls, with banners and balloons and well-wishings and tears and laughter and signs that read "Come Back Soon!" and "Best of Luck!" My heart swelled and my soul warmed at all the people who came to see me off. Tears. As the plane took off, I noticed the mountains smiling at me from below and clouds that can change their appearance at will transformed into shapes that looked like a group of close friends sitting around playing Starcraft 2, laughing, smiling, yelling encouraging sayings at their allies. The closer the plane got to Missouri, the more grim and dull the scenery. Crops normally shaped as squares or circles suddenly appeared as hands with one finger extended, clearly telling me I'm unwanted. The crowd at the airport stared daggers as I stepped off the gum-wrapper plane, all dressed in black with fangs and long, pointy fingernails. As one of them advanced, I ran for it, barely catching a taxi who became the only person I could trust for the next 3-6 minutes, as we ventured back to the economy lot to find my car, untouched, unscathed by the harsh weather conditions and bad attitude of this place.

And suddenly I realized that this post wasn't supposed to be about my adventures in Salt Lake City or my slightly strange trip home based very loosely on true events. Nay, it was about the chain of events that I will tell now, and your sympathy is appreciated in the comments section.

I decided yesterday, since good things happened at work this week, that I would take donuts in to celebrate. That's nice, right? And I've been dying to try out this new donut shop that just opened up next to my apartment. I walk in, feeling quite cool and studly in my nerdy shirt and tie (my normal dress-down-Friday apparel), after I remotely honk the horn of my car, signifying locked doors and the armed-function set to on. As it normally happens when I walk into an eatery, or as it normally happens in my retellings of the events, I was greeted with smiles and discount codes and a large selection of beautiful donuts. I got 24, including 4 Crème-bavaroise-filled ones and 2 apple fritters the size of your face.

Chants of hip-hip-hurray and for he's a jolly-good fellow were exclaimed from the rooftops as everyone's hero walked through the doors of his office carrying a box filled with [undisclosed variety of donuts]. I then proceeded to get all of my work done with time to spare and waste on the practicing of pen-spinning tricks.

After work, I took the missionaries out for dinner at Shakespeare's Pizza Eatery Place, one of my favorites here in Columbia for two reasons: 1) good ambiance, and 2) you get to keep (!) your cup. I headed back to my place afterwards to get the cursed donuts-that-remained that I'd forgotten to take to the missionaries, and took them instead to @kremlincardinal-and-@spousalunit's for 8:30 showing of The Crazies. I stepped out of my car, grabbed the box of donuts, laid my precious iPhone on top of the box, shut the door, went to lock the car, and I hear a slight whimper. "Oh no!" it cries out in fear. SMASH! My phone had just fallen to the Earth, the unforgiving cement from whence no fallen iPhone may return. I can still use it. Ish. Through a ziplock bag, unless I want to cut my fingers or my face.

Moral: If you do something nice, like buy donuts for people, you will break your most precious possession. And with that, friends, I wash my hands of this weirdness.

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