Friday, April 13, 2007

The Mystery Lady

An essay I wrote for my Advanced Composition class. Enjoy.

The woman behind me is trailing me. Or following me. I’m not really sure of the difference. Right now, I think that she is a covert CIA agent out on a Silent Super Secret Assignment that basically consists of following me around the mall. It’s really freaking me out. I devise a cunning plan and decide to turn left instead of right, and sure enough, she is right on my tail again. The mall is never too crowded at 6:30 on Wednesday’s so all I hear is the clack-clack-clack of her crimson stiletto shoes. Or maybe it was clickety-clack-clickety-clack. I could tell that she was not accustomed to walking in heels. Every fifth step or so she would do this little slip thing. Or slide. Whatever. I couldn’t tell.
Now, all I can see is her shadow. It is towering over me, looking as if any moment it will eat me alive. By the look of her shadow, she was tall. Definitely taller than me. I am going to guess either 8’6” or 5’9”. I am going for the later. However, take away the five inch stilettos and she is probably closer to my height. She likes to accentuate her body and make herself appear taller by wearing uncomfortable shoes. I like to remain short by wearing my high-top Converse no matter the occasion. We are not alike, this strange woman and me.
Finally, I can make out what she is wearing. It looks to be either an expensive famous designer dress, or a plain cheap dress from Target. I shop at Target. Nothing wrong there. I am not one who cares much about fashion, so I am going to pretend that she paid a pretty penny for her dress. The dress matches her hooker heels, which causes a clash of color. I don’t understand, yet I am not one to speak since I am aesthetically challenged. I can’t match for anything. The dress she is wearing is much too small for her. She is probably a size six, but is squeezing uncomfortably into a size two. The dress is pretty slutty. Not hooker or trailer trash slutty, but just plain slutty. I think that she is trying to pull off the sultry look, but instead comes off as bloated and clumsy.
The dress barely covers her large chest, and bares all of her back. At least I think so. I can’t see her back, and it would be awkward for me to go and run up behind her and stare at her maybe bare back. The straps of the dress are thin and looks to be digging into her shoulders. The dress is really very pretty, but girlfriend needs to get a bigger size. Maybe she has just gained a lot of weight. She should at least have a necklace on so that my eyes will focus on something besides her massive cleavage. The entire ensemble is not a pretty sight. The incessant clickety-clack is becoming very annoying. I stand there and hope that she finally slips and the much too small dress comes flying over and reveals her unmentionables. While pointing and laughing at her I would fall too, because I can trip over my own shadow. God did not bless me to be graceful, that is for sure. I shake my head at the horrid sight. Still, I wish it would happen. She would be embarrassed and it would just be a normal day for me. Anyways, the annoying sound does not stop.
I can’t figure this woman out. Her dress is red, crimson rather. Her shoes, as previously stated, are also crimson. It would have made sense to combine the previous sentences, but I am going to leave it like it is. Not only is her dress and shoe combo red, her hair is also red. Her hair, however, does not match the beauty of the other reds on her body. Her hair is an ugly red. The kind that you can’t help but stare at, and while staring make a disgusted face. Words will not do justice to the horrendous image sitting atop her head, but I will try and do my best. Imagine you have a carrot, or two, a tomato, and a spoonful of mustard. Put all the items into a blender and hit the “pulsate” button. My blender has that setting. If yours doesn’t, get a new blender. After pulsating for a few seconds, open the lid and the color inside matches Secret Ladies hair. Nasty.
The hair cut is nice. Sort of punk-rockerish with long bangs that covers up most of her face. If she cut the ugly, side-swept bangs I might like the cut. I think that this woman is just trying to look cool, when in actuality is not. See, again we differ. I have never, nor will I ever be cool. I don’t even try. I have come to accept that fact, and I live with it. She on the other hand, is probably in her late 30’s and is dressing like a hormone driven teenager. That is so not cool.
Her cheaply manicured fingernails are also red. The lipstick is of the same color, without much of a surprise. I know I lack a complete sense of fashion, but I believe that the poor, not cool woman has committed the cardinal sin of fashion suicide. First of all she is extremely pail. So pail that she probably glows in the dark. The red clashes against her body and creates an image that I would soon like to forget. She needs to get some more color behind her. Or rather, on her. I am going to say that she is color blind, and stick up for her. She looks like she needs a friend. Maybe that is why she is following me. Or trailing me. Whatever.
I am going to go out on a limb and say that her eyes are blue. Stereotypical blue, to say the least. I’m going to go with cerulean blue, because I like the word cerulean. There she goes again, slipping. Or sliding. I wonder who she is trying to impress. Her left ring finger is empty, so she could be single. But, I always jump to conclusions, and it is much more fun to create outlandish backstories about strangers. Maybe she is a widow and her husband got eaten by a manatee not so long ago. Maybe she does need a friend!
I am almost at Chick-Fil-A to get my dinner when the clickity-clack slows down. She stands in line behind me, and all of a sudden has a purse. I’m not sure how I missed the purse the entire time she was following me. I am definitely not cut out for detective work.
All of sudden, her purse makes this weird whirring sound and she digs frantically inside, as if there was a bomb about to explode and she has to defuse it with one second left. It’s not a bomb, though, but a cell phone. Of course it is. I think I watch too much T.V. I think that everybody has a Jack Bauer like complex and wants to save the world. Maybe she is the cheerleader and it is my job to save her. I laugh at the thought. I’m a complete idiot. She is talking on the phone, so does this mean she does have a friend? Her voice is magical and flowing, and I want to take back all the bad things that I dreamed about her. She should be on radio, but not T.V. Much too soon. I begin eavesdropping on her phone call, but I am interrupted by the girl who wants to take my order. I order the number one, extra pickles with a lemonade. Right then I knew I should have ordered the number five, but it is too late. I don’t really care. I grab my food like I have not eaten in days, make a mad dash to the napkins and ketchup and grab more than I need. Mystery Lady is still on the phone and looks genuinely happy. It looks like she will be dining alone as she makes her way to a nearby table. Before she hangs up she says “I love you” to the microphone part of the phone. She gets a glow in her eyes, and I knew that she just hung up from her significant other, whoever he may be.
I begin to walk back to work and I become sad that she will not follow me. I make my way down the almost empty hall and wish for the clickity-clack of the heels. Oh well, I need to find somebody else to make up stories about. He looks like fun.

Thursday, April 05, 2007

not a metephorical lame duck, but a real duck

Current mood: apathetically caring
I got these from one of my professors today, and I thought that they were great to share. Just goes to prove that not all metaphors or analogies are good. I love these:

1. Her face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had its two sides gently compressed by a Thigh Master.

2. His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like underpants in a dryer without Cling Free.

3. He spoke with the wisdom that can only come from experience, like a guy who went blind because he looked at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it and now goes around the country speaking at high schools about the dangers of looking at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it.

4. She grew on him like she was a colony of E. Coli, and he was room temperature Canadian beef.

5. She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes just before it throws up.

6. Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.

7. He was as tall as a six-foot, three-inch tree.

8. The revelation that his marriage of 30 years had disintegrated because of his wife's infidelity came as a rude shock, like a surcharge at a formerly surcharge-free ATM machine.

9. The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn't.

10. McBride fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a Hefty bag filled with vegetable soup.

11. From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole scene had an eerie, surreal quality, like when you're on vacation in another city and Jeopardy comes on at 7:00 p.m. instead of 7:30.

12. Her hair glistened in the rain like a nose hair after a sneeze.

13. The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when you fry them in hot grease.

14. Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across the grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one having left Cleveland at 6:36 p.m. traveling at 55 mph, the other from Topeka at 4:19 p.m. at a speed of 35 mph.

15. They lived in a typical suburban neighborhood with picket fences that resembled Nancy Kerrigan's teeth.

16. John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met.
17. He fell for her like his heart was a mob informant, and she was the East River.

18. Even in his last years, Granddad had a mind like a steel trap, only one that had been left out so long, it had rusted shut.

19. Shots rang out, as shots are wont to do.

20. The plan was simple, like my brother-in-law Phil. But unlike Phil, this plan just might work.

21. The young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you get from not eating for a while.

22. He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical duck, either, but a real duck that was actually lame, maybe from stepping on a land mine or something.

23. The ballerina rose gracefully en Pointe and extended one slender leg behind her, like a dog at a fire hydrant.

24. It was an American tradition, like fathers chasing kids around with power tools.

25. He was deeply in love. Whe she spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if she were a garbage truck backing up.

Tuesday, April 03, 2007

An Unsolved LCU Mystery

As many of you know, I am a reporter and writer for LCU's newspaper The Duster Today. It is pretty cool. I get to do fun stories. This new one, however, has been one of my favorites. Check it out:

An Unsolved LCU Mystery, by Jordan Williams staff writer

As students came back from Spring Break, most of them noticed a change in the McDonald Moody Auditorium. Adorning the stage were numerous trophies. Many took no notice because on that particular Monday Dr. Fredenburg incorporated the mysterious trophies into his speech. However, after a few days passed, then a week, students began to talk and ask questions. The mysterious trophies became great campus gossip, and this reporter had to get to the bottom of the situation at hand.
Being the investigative reporter that I am not, I decided to find out exactly where these trophies came from. The trophies are all SIFE trophies dating back from the late 70’s to present day. Why exactly were the trophies on the stage to begin with? Ah, here is where the story really begins.
Apparently, the Moody was not the first sighting of these mysterious trophies. Mr. John Wayne Head had a few friends to join him for a few weeks as the trophies made a temporary home surrounding the ginormous sculpture. While there, the trophies seemed as if they were guarding the famous cowboy and keeping him safe from the Library Ghost From the Fourth Floor. The trophies, however, did not seem to like their new home so they wandered onto the stage of the Moody and that is where they have last been sighted.
According to an informant that wishes to remain anonymous, the trophies were put there as a test. A test to see who would notice. The informant, whom we will call “Hamper” had this idea while in a certain class on campus. “Hamper” said that the professor was the one that actually suggested a fitting tribute to The Duke, and the class voted on the trophies. What an odd tribute. I would have thought maybe a giant mirror so he could look at himself all day, sort of like a parakeet, or even something simple as a necktie. Both of those would have been appropriate tributes, but I guess the trophies won by a three-fourths decision.
“Hamper” went on to elaborate that the trophies became bored because not enough students noticed their presence. They made the long trek to the Moody where they could preside in front of the entire student body. They would count the number of students enrolled at LCU, subtract that number from the amount of people in the audience, and add that number to the empty seats and would wind up counting all day. Being a trophy is not an easy job.
The trophies were extremely tight-lipped about the entire situation. One trophy, winner for something back in 1986, had a staring contest with me, and I ultimately lost. Not a single one would answer my questions; boy, these guys were trained well.
Anyway, this reporter dug deeper and spoke to another informant, we will call this one “Dandelion.” “Dandelion” reports that the premise of the trophy disbursement was by the philosophy that “if you act like you know what you are doing then nobody will say anything to you.” That, my readers is how it is. Try it, its fun. For example, I walked around on campus holding a nine iron and a volleyball while wearing a rabbit mask while dancing to “Bye Bye Bye” and nobody asked me what was going on. Same concept, same results.
So my readers, this journalist did a mediocre job at uncovering this LCU mystery. However, my task has failed because the trophies are now MIA. They were last spotted Thursday during chapel, and failed to report back to the stage Monday morning to active duty. If you have any news regarding the whereabouts of these trophies please contact “Hamper” or “Dandelion” and they will find a new home for these missing trophies. The trophies will not be punished for disobeying orders, this reporter and my informants just want them safe and unharmed. Thank you in advance.

It was my class that was involved in this incident! Muahahaha! It was pretty fun. Now, we are thinking about taking the trophies and placing them on every step in the CDC building (Bible building). It will be great.

Sunday, April 01, 2007

Watermelon Twist

Current mood: long-winded
I need to write. It is time. I really have no theme or set plan. I just want to write. Deal with it. Yup, that's right. Here goes:

I went to the play on campus tonight with my friend Erin and it was really great. Better than expected. It was called "Scenes of Faith" and it had to do with famous plays and playwrights and how those dealt with faith. Whether it was embracing faith, questioning it, or denying it, it was powerful and moving. Now I have to write a review about it. Hmm....

I need an opinion topic for my opinion article for the Duster. I get to write about one a year, and I want this one to be good. However, what I want to write about, LCU will not allow. Not cool. Politics. That is all. Why is that such a taboo subject? Any ideas? I have plenty of opinions, but do people really want to hear what I have to say? Probably not.

I do not like immature people and people that cannot stay out of other peoples business. Not cool. Also, people who spread rumors are not cool either.

Chewing gum is really gross, chewing gum I hate the most.

I am feeling much better. Thank you for all the prayers.

I taught myself how to play "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" on the piano. I rock. Also, I can play a few more songs, like "Mary Had a Little Lamb." Haha. I think everybody knows that one.

I need a good April Fools Joke. Something cool, but not mean. Let me know.

Why am I still writing? I have no clue. Nobody is even going to read this.

I got $100.00 the other day for Japan. I now have raised $1, 250 for my trip. I still need $1,950 for the rest of the funds. Not cool! I have 15 days! AHHH!

I'm excited about finally living off campus next semester. It is going to be wonderful. Bree is awesome and our apartment will rock.

Also, should I be the editor next year? I would love to, but if somebody else wants it, then they should have it. Seriously. Bree, go for it.

My camera is out of batteries.

I need to wash clothes, but I have no quarters.

My ticket for my wreck is $120.00 but if I take defensive driving it is only like $20.00. Where do I sign up?

Staple it together and call bad.

My fingernails are extremely long. Like, the longest that they have ever been. Kinda cool actually!

This still has no meaning. I don't really care.

I hope Cousin Lemon Drop had a fantastic birthday. Your card is in the mail.

I'm tired. I think I shall go to sleep. We went to IHOP at around 11:00 p.m. and people met Erin, Carla and me there and we had a good time. We returned to campus around 1:00 a.m.

Daniel's Christmas gift is still next to me wrapped. Daniel, I hope that you do not have the new-ish Hawthorne Heights CD. I told you I would get it for you. I tell you what, I will have it in the mail this week! Honestly!

How many of you have seen the trailer to the new Pirates of the Caribbean? It. Looks. AWESOME! I cannot wait! It comes out the Friday before I leave for Japan. Wicked! Synopsis: Kraken=bad. Captain Jack=awesome. Captain Jack and Elizabeth kiss, and whilst kissing she shakles his hand to the ship so the Kraken takes only him and not the others. She escapes. Jack escapes. Jack finds his nasty hat. Kraken eats Jack. Whew. That was like the last five minutes. I hope the third one is good. No, I hope it is fantastic! It will be, and I will be there for the midnight showing wearing my Captain Jack Sparrow/Johhny Depp t-shirt. I'm such a nerd. Oh well.

Have any of you seen Children of Men? FANTASTIC movie. Great. I love Clive Owen. There are three things fantastic about this movie: one the plot is great. Second, the director Alfonso Cuaron manages not one but TWO scenes that made me rewind them. One is a four minute, one angle, one shot scene. The scene is not just dialogue. There is a ping-pong ball, a group of hijackers, gun shots, a murder, and a car chase. Four minutes. All one single-camera take. Wow. The second, and even better one is toward the end. This one is six minutes long! Come on! This one follows Owen as he ducks and covers from flying bullets to get inside of a building. At one point, blood and dirt get on the camera lens and stays there for the duration of the shot. Wow. This type of shot was made famous in A Touch of Evil, and Cuaron out touches A Touch of Evil. I highly recommend this movie. Great.

My love for movies is seeping out too quickly, so that is my cue to leave. Goodbye.

Current taste: Chocolate chip pancakes from IHOP
Current sound: "Split Screen Sadness" (hey, it's an alliteration!) by John Mayer
Current word: mortmain (n). Ask me what it means.
Current pocket contents: peppermint wrapper
Current socks: one orange with crazy cool stripes and one solid pink one. Wicked.
Current annoyance: this blog
That is all. Chaio!
Sorry about the length...
Currently watching : Children of Men (Widescreen Edition) Release date: By 27 March, 2007