The Doppelgängers

I Really Should Be Doing Work

2008-10-24T11:24:00.000-07:00

I love doing those stupid meme things and surveys so when I was checking out the internet today, I ran across a friend from high school's blog. He and his wife had done a photo meme so I decided to do that. Yay.

Essentially, you Google your response to each question and post the image that comes up.

First Name: Cecile
I think she's a reggae singer. She may or may not be pregnant.

Middle Name: Marie
Apparently she has helped her family to go vegetarian. She is featured on www.goveg.com.

Last Name: Garcia
(Carmen Garcia, according to her site, is a fitness model and actress)

Let's see if I can find someone who isn't scantily clad...
Age: 24 Way to wear clothes, Jack Bauer.

Place I'd like to visit someday: Greece
Yay!

Favorite vacation spot: Anywhere with fun people and new adventures
I typed that phrase into Google Images. A graphic novel about Hitler came up.

Past celebrity crush: Harrison Ford
Harrison Ford has also lost his clothes.

College Major: International Studies
Seriously...

Place I grew up: Louisiana and North Carolina
He's a trial lawyer who took the bar in both states.

First Job: Wait staff at Carol Woods Retirement Community.
Another exact phrase. Well, he looks like someone who could live there...

Favorite treat: Girl Scout Cookies
Yay! Something literal!

Favorite food: Chinese, seafood, my mom's cooking, so many different things
All of those yummy things equal the below. My question - Is it edible?

Favorite color: Blue and Red
GRADIENTS! ROCK HARD! TOTALLY AWESOME GRAPHIC DESIGN IDEA! ELECTRIC GUITAR!

Somewhere you've gone today: Sony Pictures Entertainment
It's Friday!

What's for dinner: Well, I looked up Miles and Maddy. I'm going to eat dinner with them tonight but I don't know where. A picture of two kids came up. I'm not really one to use other strangers' children as pictures on my blog so I looked up SUSHI!!!! because that seemed like fun.

Cecile, we must resume this blog.

2008-07-30T16:45:00.001-07:00

IMDB ME

2008-04-28T23:53:00.000-07:00

How can you IMDB someone without knowing his or her name?

My roommate pointed out how dirty my windshield is. It is not raining in this picture.

Sorry for the Lack of Posts

2008-04-19T14:28:00.000-07:00

I know as our one reader you are incredibly disappointed. Perhaps you've written us out of your will. Please don't. We're not exactly wealthy here.

I can speak for myself in saying that I've been busy with work... possibly a new job. We'll see on Monday. No excuse, I know.

As for Dopple, he's been doing his usual things - making creative projects, working, selling children from Kiribati over the internet. I bet you don't know how to pronounce that.

No, that's not it.

For your entertainment, another thing I've been liking these days is http://uncchsecrets.blogspot.com/.

Co-Challenge: 4 of 10

2008-03-31T11:44:00.000-07:00

I was always late. I swaggered up to her that morning, sweaty from the rush, and acted as if I'd done nothing wrong.

For some reason, that simple act of tardiness proved to be the last straw. She simply walked away. She never contacted me again and, except for one drunken phone call, I never contacted her.

I ordered scrambled eggs, sausage, and orange juice. I hate orange juice.

Quirky Character Challenge

2008-03-24T14:50:00.000-07:00

Make up a synopsis of a very strange character. List strange mannerisms and idiosyncrasies and guess what that character would do in certain situations. Then write a few short stories with that character. Boom.

Co-Challenge: 3 of 10

2008-03-24T14:38:00.000-07:00

Maybe it was the keys jabbing into my thighs, or the suffocating feeling of all-too-familiar depression, but that night I had a what could only be euphemistically expressed as a nightmare. I was running. Always running. Sometimes people chased me, sometimes I chased them. I was a wild beast without instincts.

Then I saw her.

Questioning the Doppel

2008-03-18T04:15:00.000-07:00

For the record, Yahoo! Mail sucks.

I've been an insomniac lately. Tonight, after reading an article about a horribly disfigured woman, I decided I would not be able to go to bed early (3 AM instead of 4 or 5) so I stayed up. I decided to indulge in a guilty pleasure of mine - surveys. Ever since high school, I have loved them. I truly do like to discern whether I am indeed a nighttime person or a daytime person. (After years of study, I am a "as long as I have enough sleep" person.)

So, I searched my old Yahoo! account for a survey I wrote up and sent to my friends in high school. Unfortunately, I could not find mine. Otherwise, I would post the 1999 version and the present results from the quiz. Now, I only have the present answers.

1.)Name: Cecile Marie Garcia
2.)Name you wish people would call you: CeCe
3.)Name you hate that people call you anyway: Chay Chay.
4.)Bananas or Pickles? It depends. On Rice Krispies, for instance?
5.)You're on your deathbed but you're hungry and tonight you've got the premonition that you're going to die. What are you going to eat? Cheesecake with strawberries. Or my mom's shrimp pasta. And an eggroll. I hate last meals.
6.)How much wood could a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood? I'm imagining the woodchuck is pretty lazy so only the amount he or she needs.
7.)How many animals did Moses take on his boat? None.
8.)You have the oppurtunity to hear what other people think about you. (remember that people's thoughts are usually more emotional than what they say) I'm curious so I probably would and then I'd regret it later.
9.)Favorite instrumental piece of music: The Amelie soundtrack or the "Throne Room/Finale" and "Han Solo and the Princess" from the Star Wars trilogy.
10.)Favorite Beatle and why: Paul. He's the cutest. Sad reason to like him best. He also seems the sweetest.
11.)Favorite Harrison Ford and why: Han Solo. Hands down.
12.)Favorite Cece and why: Hilarious question in high school, huh? Now, it's up for people to argue over. A question for the centuries.
13.)Would you rather sleep with a teddy bear, doll, pillow or toy truck? No comma after pillow, huh? I guess I was a newspaper girl back then. I would go with pillow.
14.)Boxers or briefs? Commando? I'm usually digging on the boxers/boxer-briefs. Nothing else really.
15.)1000 dollars. What do you do? Pay rent. Eat food.
16.)It's the year 2009. Where are you? What are you doing? Who are you dating? Big questions for something that was 10 years away. Now that it's less than a year away... I'm living in LA and I pray I have a full time job. I have no clue who I am dating if I am dating someone.
17.)It's December 31, 1999. Where are you? What are you doing? I don't remember what I did.
18.)It's January 1, 2000. Where are you now? What are you doing? I have no clue what I did.
19.)Sweet, good friend of yours and hot, popular person both ask you out. Who are you going to say yes to? Typical high school question. Whichever one I actually want to date.
20.)Okay I'll stick to 20 questions. Last one AND MOST
IMPORTANT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SO here it
is~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Who
is your favorite Star Wars character? Han Solo, followed closely by Leia.

Interesting? Entertaining? I thought so.

Thanks for sticking with that. I'm sure my love of Harrison Ford back then came through clearly in this delightful survey. It was hilarious looking at some of my friends answers from back then. For instance, my ex-boyfriend's answer to "1000 dollars. What do you do?" was "Buy an apartment in D.C." That would be amazing. I'm sure Jim would love to buy an apartment for that much anywhere. Real estate is such a great investment.

Co-Challenge: 2 of 10

2008-03-12T21:15:00.000-07:00

I went home again, a lonely man. The laughter of the party mocked me, as if each person there knew I would be alone that night.

I used to dream of her. I used to dream for myself, my future. Yet, here I am again, falling asleep before I even empty my pockets.

Human Tetris

2008-03-11T13:40:00.000-07:00

I found this ad today on Craig's List. Human Tetris, a game where your team tries to fit itself into different-sized holes, appears to be coming to the States. They're casting, so if you have the group they desire and you find the concept of this simple, ridiculous game appealing, then send in your application.

They included this video in the ad, which is hilarious.

Permanent Challenge - Stranger Capture

2008-03-08T16:44:00.000-08:00

The challenge is this - meet someone completely new and take their picture. Write a little bit about that person and your experience.

This is Pebbles. She's in her sixth year of living on the road. When I met Pebbles, she was with her two temporary travel buddies Abby and Gurge.

I asked how he got the name Gurge and Pebbles recalled a two day period where they drank all the liquor they could and Gurge kept throwing up. "I already had too many friends named 'Puke' so I called him 'Gurge.'" She told me the crude-by-normal-standards names of some of her other friends, but the only one I seem to be able to remember is "Piss." I did not ask how Piss got his nickname.

Pebbles had a letter tattooed on each of her knuckles that could be seen when she made a fist. Her hands were weathered with burn marks - later confirmed to be some of the roughness to be expected on the road (including fairly frequent fights). One hand spelled L-A-Z-Y and she was debating whether to add S-C-U-M underneath it or "pirate" spelled (the Greek letter Pi)-R-A-T.

At the end of our visit (watching their dogs play and dig holes near a parking deck) I offered to let them spend the next few nights in a school building that I had access to. Their alternative was to squat in an abandoned building.

CC: So you want to go see the classroom building where you can probably sleep?
Pebbles: Sounds sketchy.

Co-Challenge: 1 of 10

2008-03-07T15:21:00.000-08:00

It wasn't until I saw that happy couple that I realized how unhappy I really was. I didn't know them, but I had a strange sense of familiarity around them. Maybe it was that look she had - did I recognize that look? Or his - had I been entranced by someone like that before?

Book and Street Art

2008-03-03T15:44:00.000-08:00

Book.

Artists from across the world sent each other a book and responded to each other's drawings with a drawing of their own.

Perhaps an idea for a future challenge or just inspiration for this one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Also, some awesome street installations by a guy named Mark Jenkins.

Official Co-Challenge

2008-03-03T11:11:00.001-08:00

We create a 10 picture story together. I will take the first picture (unless you actively want to) and will begin a story with a few sentences explaining the picture. Then we alternate pictures/captions until we have a resolution. Extra pictures may happen... maybe a denouement?

Challenge begins...

NOW!

Yahoo Crossword

2008-03-01T14:15:00.001-08:00

I'm a fan of Yahoo's Crossword. The format is lovely, not obnoxious like the Universal Crossword found on so many sites. It's easy to navigate and it's a generally fun crossword to do. However, I cannot see the crossword when it uploads on my Mac. It's aggravating. I have played this crossword in multiple browsers on other Macs, yet for some reason, mine has decided to hate the Yahoo Crossword.

Boo on that. Any suggestions, per usual, would be helpful.

2. A portrait of someone else the way YOU see them. Not necessarily the way he or she sees himself or herself.

2008-02-27T14:43:00.001-08:00

It's not finished, but I'm not sure how much time I'll have tomorrow.

Wowwy Zowwy! Make $M$O$N$E$Y$ Playing GAMES?!?

2008-02-27T12:04:00.000-08:00

As I write this post, I have already received a check for about $20 and have $45 in my account at moola.com. The best part is - I HAVE NEVER DEPOSITED A DIME into ANYTHING! All I have done to make money is use their "Search and Win" feature every now and then, but there are a bunch of ways to make money.

You can play games gambling the money that Moola gives you after watching an advertisement.

You can shop from their affiliates and get "Cash Back Boosters."

You can spin the wheel o' money after simply using their search engine.

AND THE BEST - you get 4% of the money that anyone you recommend makes... and 3% of the money from anyone they recommend... and 2% from who they recommend... and 1% from who THEY recommend.

It's basically a pyramid scheme without the "scheme" part of it. It's worth a look! Oh and they're still new, so most people don't know about it. Get an invite here:

Moola.com - Easy money for just a few seconds of your time a day

Picture Challenge!

2008-02-23T01:02:00.001-08:00

This challenge can be done with either a posted photograph or drawing. Drawings can also be done on a computer if need be, but only as a last resort.

You can choose from one of the following or do more than one. They cannot be combined.

1. A portrait of yourself ten years from now as you hope you will appear.
2. A portrait of someone else the way YOU see them. Not necessarily the way he or she sees himself or herself.
3. Three photographs of three strangers holding up signs that reveal a flaw about themselves. For instance, I would have a picture holding up a sign that says, "Apologizes too much."

This project is due THURSDAY although I encourage you to post beforehand about other things.

Nothing To Write Home About

2008-02-23T00:53:00.000-08:00

The carnivals lights made the summer evening seem like high noon, mystical and friendly to the young patrons of the town. Polly Anderson strolled along with her current boyfriend, Beau Barker, a gawky, overly polite runner with dry elbows and a genuine smile. They were only in their early years of high school. Neither had filled out into their adult minds or bodies quite yet but both attempted to appear more adult than they actually were. Beau slicked his blonde hair down with gel and Polly did apply her lipstick to exactly match the outline of her lips. She still dressed youthfully as well, with her white sundress spotted with red polka dots, her bright red sandals, and her little ponytails tied with ribbons on each side of her head.
Polly smiled at passerby and laughed easily at the different booths, as if the carnival were a new planet and she were a cosmonaut finally discovering it at the age of ninety. Beau Barker was much shyer than her and simply enjoyed watching her react to the fair. He won her a stuffed bunny, kissed her on the Ferris wheel beneath the full moon, and endured her screeching during the Freak Show.
They were presently wandering, no meetings on their carnival schedules. They turned down dusty lanes to make sure they witnessed every booth, ride, and animal. They giggled in each other’s ears, sharing jokes that no one else would care to interpret. As they leaned in close to each other, absorbed in their hyper exchanges, they veered into an empty strip of the carnival. Polly noticed their voices’ growing as they left the louder sections and followed the dusty aisles. She looked up from Beau’s shoulder, trying to find their bearings. “What’s wrong?” Beau asked.
In front of them stood a faded tent. A crooked sign hung over its dark entrance with “Hall of Mirrors” lit upon it. The “M” flickered on and off and the final “s” was completely shut down.
“Let’s go!” Polly cried and dragged Beau towards the tent.
“Oh, no. I don't really like those.”
“Please, Beau? It’ll be such a laugh.”
Beau smiled at her, not wanting to tell her no. “Tell you what. Why don’t you go in and I’ll go find the men’s room? Then we can meet up back here.”
“Okay. Kiss me?”
He obliged her and handed her a nickel.
“A nickel?” Polly took it but looked at him skeptically. “That won’t cover it, will it?”
Beau pointed at the entrance. Polly turned towards it. Sure enough, a sign nailed into the ground beside the entrance read, “5 cents. Enter if you can afford it.”
“Well, I suppose you must be right -,” she said, turning back to see Beau shuffle off in search of the bathrooms.
Polly walked over to the tent and stepped inside, expecting to find an operator asking for her nickel. Instead, the anteroom was deserted except for a coin machine with a wire leading to two metal doors. On the doors, a happy dog was painted in clown makeup. The colors seemed to have been vibrant at one time but now the paint chipped away to reveal the cold metal behind the cheerful canine. Polly walked over to the coin machine and inserted her nickel. She tugged on a crank at the side and the nickel clunked through the mechanism. The doors creaked open, sliding apart as loud, cheery music played. It sounded like circus music played over a gramophone. The doors caught a few times but they finally heaved to a stop with a metallic sigh. Polly stared doubtfully into the dimly lit corridor beyond. Uncertain if she stood step forward with no attendant in sight and the tent so far away from the main thoroughfare of the carnival, she worried about being caught in a place where the way out was not certain.
No one else seemed to be in the funhouse either. She did not hear the ubiquitous laughter and shouts of the rest of the carnival. The music had stopped as the doors opened and she stood alone on the brink. She wished someone, maybe Beau, maybe a complete stranger, was there to hold her hand or at least tell her to stop being silly and enjoy her time. She shrugged her shoulders and said, “I am not a child.”

Candle sconces filled a curving hallway, lighting an array of mirrors. In front of each mirror, a pair of white footprints was painted onto the black carpet. Polly walked along, her red sandals tracking dust from the carnival onto a black, short carpet that led the way. Her body transformed in the mirrors as she walked along, growing tall and skinny or short and fat. She stopped by a few and giggled but did not step into the footprints to examine the strange perspectives closely. She felt quite alone in the exhibit and found herself wanting to move out of it quickly, the lost quarter be damned.
Her image became less modified as she moved along and she thought that she must have not been looking at herself correctly. The mirrors, however, changed drastically in shape and form. While the first few were adorned with simple brightly colored frames, the mirrors’ frames began to become more intricate. As she could not see any change in her own appearance in these frames, she did not care to look closely at them. She felt that she was not in the exhibit to purchase the mirrors but rather to see an amusing glance of herself. Polly frowned at these and hurried along, bored with the change. As she turned a corner past a mirror framed in white with pink and blue cherubs dancing along the edges, she saw ran into one that slowed down her step.
It was a plastic version of an avocado tree with bright green, oversized fruit and cartoonish birds and forest animals propped into its branches. A mirror lined with dressing room light bulbs was embedded in the tree. Polly giggled as a toucan, animated by electronics embedded in it, bobbed back and forth and cried out, “Step right up, beautiful! Let’s see you now! Gorgeous, over here!”
Polly skipped over to the plastic tree and jumped into the white footprints painted in front of it. Her eyes lifted to view herself in the mirror. She was ten years older, her body fully grown into womanhood. The awkwardness of her youth vanished and her image in the mirror appeared perfect. She still recognized herself but she seemed to gleam with beauty, grace, and a slight dose of snobbery. Around her in the mirror, people cheered and demanded her picture. Polly turned her head to and fro and laughed in delight. She posed and winked, enjoying the attention of the fans in the mirror. They called her “Polli,” changing her name to something sexier, a one-word sensation.
One handsome photographer loudly shouted for her to lean forward a bit, to show off her goods just a little bit more. She obliged and as she lifted her head, the fans were gone. In place of them stood a doctor’s office. Her image in the mirror was twenty-five years older than before, caked with makeup. She stood naked, her breasts lost of perk, her stomach slightly sagging. A doctor drew on areas of her body with a purple marker, pointing out flaws that could easily be fixed with a slice here, a lift there. She flirted with him, bragging about her former fame and how she could certainly find a reservation at the hottest spot in town. He smiled politely and pointed out the lines around her eyes. “Botox, I’m assuming?”
She nodded and the doctor vanished. She stood in a grocery store line with Virginia Slims, two buck Chuck, and pomegranates on the conveyor belt. A sixteen-year-old boy nodded rhythmically to her yapping about who she knew and her “oh, so fabulous!” life. Her total rang up and the tone of the receipt printing changed to the sound of a lonely vibrator humming away as she lay awake in bed, now fifty-three years old. She thought about her calendar and friends she could possibly call for drinks tomorrow. Most would think of something else to do while the others would simply feel pity for all of the other times they lied to her face. She would die this way, she thought, alone in bed. A funeral would be held and mourners would say, “Oh, what a shame” but not a tear would be shed.

Polly sprung back from the footprints. Her tear ducts sprung loose and she found herself pounding the plastic surface of the mirror. She saw her own face, neither gorgeous nor modified. She shook her head. “You were only getting lost in your own stupid thoughts,” she said.
She walked away from the avocado tree, the bird shouting, “Lovely, darling, absolutely lovely! With a capital L, dear!”
“I’m not going to die alone. I’m not going to die alone,” she chanted in murmurs.
She rushed to find the exit, running past the mirrors. The hallway never seemed to end and she thought back to how the tent had appeared from the outside. She could not recall its size. It seemed small in width, she thought, but perhaps its length was longer than she had perceived. She stopped for breath in front of a Gothic mirror, gargoyles mournfully peering out towards her. As she stopped one foot landed in a painted footprint. Her eyes leapt up to the mirror, where she only saw one eye matching hers. The other was sewn together with stitches, sagging over a lopsided face. Her smile seemed crooked, her jaw appeared cracked, her nose was slit from up the nostril, and her hairline receded from the scars of third degree burns. Around that side of her face, other mutilated faces loomed. They smiled at her and whispered, “We’re here for you. We’re here for you.”
Behind them, she heard little children screaming and crying in horror, mothers hushing them in her own mother’s voice, and fathers attempting to loudly change the subject in her own father’s voice. Yet, the other faces reached out to her, their leper-like hands trying to grab her. “We’ll be here for you. Forever. We love you.”
She tugged back her foot and ran away, her toes grasping the thongs of her insensible sandals. She swept around another corner into a straight hallway. As she turned, she saw a rocking chair and collapsed into it. She wept into her hands, trying to decide if she should return to the beginning or continue along this path and hope for an exit. Between her wet fingers, she gazed down at her feet. White footprints outlined her dusty, red sandals. “No, not again… please, no.”
“It’s okay, child,” a soft voice like her deceased grandmother’s said. She lifted her head, not wanting to go further. Across the long corridor, a small mirror hung. It reflected her face wizened by time, sickened by age. Around her stood her present relatives and future ones whose faces were still unknown to her. Her eyes were dry and her skin felt cold. Her closest family members wept beside her, grasping her cold limbs. She tried to speak, tried to comfort them, but her dead mouth would not move. She saw them move away from her. She felt their despair, their mournful thoughts. She wanted to move, to help them through their grief, to shout to them that she was still alive. Yet, no one could hear the shouts of their dead loved one. She could not move from the rocking chair. It pushed back and forth and she felt as if years passed and the grief never lessened. Her mother’s voice lacked vigor, her father’s step lacked purpose, and her children lacked direction. Anyone she ever knew, would know, dead, and alive could not contain the pain and she felt it. She felt no comfort from their love but only a massive burden that never ceased. “I want to be with them forever,” she said.
She realized she could move now, she could see the hall again. “Show me!” she yelled to the empty room. “Show me how!”
Polly ran again, this time with no purpose of leaving. She ran aimlessly, confident that something would occur to show her where to stop, where to find a happy solution. Yet, nothing appeared. Mirrors flew by, mirrors that could reveal the twisted results of every wish, the answers to prayers to the devil. Instead, the lights of the carnival appeared through a slit in the tent’s canvas and Polly ran towards it, hoping to at least forget.

A tall mirror without any frame almost stopped her right before the exit. She ran across the footprints and as she did, she saw herself wink back. She tried to stop herself as she crossed through the slit into the outside world. Yet, her sandals lacked any traction and slid her forward out of the tent. She turned, trying to go back to that friendly face that winked with such confidence, such serenity. The slit was closed. The tent was only sealed canvas now, no way to return.
“Polly, are you ready?"
Polly whipped around and saw Beau standing before her, holding two servings of cotton candy in his hands.
“No,” she said.
“Okay.”
Polly breathed in deep and said, “If we are to have children and more children will come from those then we will forever be a part of this world, right?’
“I suppose so but, Polly, I’m not ready to -”
“But, maybe they’ll forget us and our eye colors may never be exactly the same as theirs. Because genes mix, don’t they? So even our genetics will barely be remembered here. And perhaps the bloodline, the family tree, you know, will stop somewhere, after last names were long erased from history books, and the last remnants of ourselves will be gone from the earth. Even if we are famous or are part of something much larger than ourselves, our names may disappear. Our accomplishments won’t be as important because someone will have new accomplishments and then ours won’t be good enough to be remembered by humanity.”
“Polly, honey, I don’t think that’s something to worry about.”
“But isn’t it? How is it even possible to live without knowing that you can’t make the slightest difference?”
“Well, I guess you’ll always have a tombstone with everything written - ” Beau said.
“A tombstone? But even the best stone will erode with time and languages change and can be forgotten. Maybe we’ll overpopulate the earth and tombstones won’t even be used anymore. Then, future generations won’t know what they are! Its purpose will be forgotten and no one will be there to remember anyone else. Bones will crumble. The earth will crumble and everyone will die and the planet will be empty of any remnant of us eventually."
“Until the sun explodes, I guess.
“Or the galaxy collapses. Or matter becomes nonexistent.”
“You’re cheerful tonight."
Polly evened her breathing and stared into the pink and blue swirls of cotton candy. “Actually, I am. I want to watch them make the cotton candy. Let’s go."
She led him away from the deserted tent, feeling like a small child beneath a starry sky or a redwood tree. Her single beat in the pulse of the universe would certainly be brief. She considered her life ahead and promised to make the short span as worthwhile as she could. Yet, as she grew older and forgot, she would live her life as all people do. A routine would form, a set of values would be created, and life would not be changed and greatness would not be fulfilled. There would only be spurts of energy towards something new, something indefinable, something grand.
As Polly watched the cotton candy man spin his wares, a star exploded. It would not be seen from Earth for millennia, centuries upon centuries after Polly Anderson learned to die.

WRITING Challenge!

2008-02-14T12:56:00.001-08:00

Ce (x2), your challenge is to write a story that includes the following:

1. Patti White (the lady that was in line with us to see that horrendous show "America's Got Talent").

2. If you saw your face in a circus mirror and mistook it for something, whatever that thing would be.

3. Themes, characters, events, and/or allusions to Kurt Vonnegut's writings.

Time's Up...

2008-02-14T00:26:00.000-08:00

... on the West Coast.

You may lose points based on lateness.

Beautiful, Elegant, Farty

2008-02-13T23:59:00.000-08:00

I'm not allergic to bees. When they sting me it hurts. I drive a green Chevy Lumina. It's a car. One time when I went camping, my friend spread spices all over the camp site because we hadn't seen a bear even though we'd been camping for ten days and he really wanted to see a bear. Bears can be killed if you shoot them in the heart. Bears like honey which comes from beautiful beehives. Bees can't sting me if I'm inside my Chevy Lumina unless they are also inside my car. If you're allergic to bees, your heart could stop when you get stung. One time my grandma sent me a book when a friend died when I was about ten. It was called A Taste of Blackberries and it was about a boy who died when he was stung by a bee and no one helped him because he was known as a prankster. His heart stopped. Sometimes when you have a heart attack, you fart a lot. In another book called Hatchet, a pilot farted a whole lot and then died of a heart attack and then this kid had to crash a plane into a lake. I have always wanted to crash my car into a lake (with the windows down, duh). Then I could make up a crazy excuse like there was a storm of bees chasing me or that I saw a bear and freaked out or that my car is just a piece of shit and it deserved to drown. If you saw a car crash into a lake, would you think it was beautiful? Elegant? Farty?

By Christopher Bokonon (my pen name)

Time's Up...

2008-02-13T21:17:00.001-08:00

... on the East Coast.

Writing CHALLENGE!

2008-02-11T18:36:00.000-08:00

So, CC has not posted since last Wednesday. And it was a lameass survey. Ergo, in order to increase our posting on this blog and make this a real thing, I am going to issue a challenge.

A WRITING CHALLENGE.

You can complete one of three exercises by WEDNESDAY, February 13, saving you Valentine's Day to do as you so please. It can be of any length.

1. Write something involving a bear, a bee, and a Chevy. It cannot take place in the wilderness or a zoo.

2. Think of three words to describe yourself. Those will be the title of your piece. Afterwards, describe a completely different character that also shares those descriptions.

3. Free write off of the word "heart" (in honor of our upcoming holiday). Whatever comes to mind, just start typing. It can be anything from a personal anecdote to a rap.

The only rules are that you cannot post a link or a picture and you must post it by WEDNESDAY.

I welcome you to challenge me after your completion on WEDNESDAY.

CHALLENGE SENT!

Valentine's Day Approaches

2008-02-10T19:30:00.001-08:00

This Valentine's Day, I know I will be watching Lost. I hope it is a Desmond episode this year.

While I do not find Valentine's Day to be a holiday forcing people to buy things, I do believe that there could be a deeper tone to it. I'm sure that St. Valentine was not all about romantic love, but was perhaps about the general idea of loving your neighbor as yourself. For instance, when I was in elementary school, we gave each other candy and little cards with cheesy sayings on them. While the sayings were cheesy, they were always positive. It was fun to think that the kid you barely knew in class really did think you rocked as hard as the California Raisins did.

So, I ask myself and others to think about Valentine's Day in a positive manner this year. Forget the loneliness or the hassle of pleasing your high-maintenance significant other. Instead, take a moment of appreciation and try to see it as a day that we should all just reach out and love our fellow neighbor a bit more.

Doppel Dopple Doppel

2008-02-06T21:25:00.000-08:00

Age: 24.
Name: Cecile Marie Garcia
Soundoff: No, I'm number one! Two...
Dream Job: Writer, world traveler, discoverer of amazing things or long lost people or ALIENS
Favorite illegitimate child: Love Child, never quite as good.
Life: Well, my favorite life would probably have to be this one just because my memory of my other ones has faded.
Sandwich: The perfect grilled cheese. Really, it depends on my mood.
Book: I do not have one. Too many.... brain is combusting as I think about it.
String Game: Who can eat the most string cheese?
Ladder: A cute stepladder that I painted myself. Has not occurred yet.
World of Warcraft Class: Class Awesome.
Most desired phone: I have not done the proper research.
Actor: Right now it's a tie between Daniel Day Lewis and Hugh Laurie.
Color: Dopple 1 put Indian. I'm trying to figure out if that's racist. Mine is red or blue.
Sound: Rain, a ceiling fan, music, baby's laughter.
Punctuation: ?, although I do use ~ to sign off on emails.
Salad Dressing: Vinagerrettteee. That is totally spelled correctly. It depends on the salad.
Music: The soundtrack to Amelie.
Tape: Probably my Star Wars videotapes that I refuse to give up. Or electric or scotch.
Position: Shortstop. In softball. Not in sex.
Saboteur: Matthew Broderick in Election.
Disney Ancillary Character: Despite my love for tigers, I'm going to say Jiminy Cricket.
Insignificant News Story: I can't think of an insignificant one so I'll just go with the Orange Revolution and the poisoning of Yushchenko.
Race: Human, Wookiee, Barabel. Olympic swimming, The Amazing, Space.
Shepherd: I'm not totally up on my shepherds but the guy from Babe was pretty kickass. Also, the ones who visited Jesus.
Body of Water: The ocean. ANY of them.
Genetic Mutation: Sixth finger.
Least Favorite Game to Try "Fatalities": Game of Love.
Number:17

1 Dopple

2008-02-06T10:42:00.000-08:00

Age: A score and two
Name: Pearce, Columbus, Christopher, V
Soundoff: 1
Dream Job: Assassin (for Google)
Favorite illegitimate child: Diamond Lee Surret
Life: probably about 1/5-1/3 complete
Sandwich: Any meat, any cheese, toasted
Book: Cat's Cradle
String Game: Cat's Cradle, Jacob's Ladder (tie)
Ladder: ?
World of Warcraft Class: Warlock
Most desired phone: Google's unreleased phone
Actor: Ed Norton
Color: Indian
Sound: Wooooosh
Punctuation: ~~~~
Salad Dressing: Ceasar
Music: Regina Spektor and me in a duet
Tape: Scotch, police (tie)
Position: Pheonix (fictional)
Saboteur: Ralph Nader
Disney Ancillary Character: Raja
Insignificant News Story: John Benet Ramsey
Race: Chicago Marathon, Asian (tie)
Shepherd: David
Body of Water: the lake that supplied life on Mars a bajillion years ago
Genetic Mutation: Nightcrawler
Least Favorite Game to Try "Fatalities": Mortal Kombat (original for Sega... booooo)
Number: 8

That's it.

Hillary Clinton Called Today

2008-02-04T18:43:00.000-08:00

We're old friends, naturally. We both spent our relative youths in headbands, for instance. So many stories to tell.

When she rang today, I saw "Unavailable" on my caller ID. Naturally, I did not answer. Especially since I was at work. In retrospect, I think Hillary would understand.

Now, I should mention that I have not spoken to her in quite sometime. Therefore, when her message started, I figured she would want to leave something quick on my voicemail. She's been in California a lot lately so I thought she might want to grab lunch or drive down to Rancho Palos Verdes and look at mollusks. No such luck.

Her message stated, "Hello. This is Hillary Clinton and I wanted to remind you that as you stand up and vote for change on Tuesday, I will stand up for California every day when I am president. I will stand up and fight for universal health care so all Americans can have quality, affordable health coverage. I will stand up and fight to protect the environment and end the massive tax subsidies the Bush administration gave the oil companies. And I want all Californians to know that I will always stand up for you when I am in the White House. On Tuesday, February fifth, I hope you will stand up and join me so we can take back our country. Thank you very much."

So, apparently Hillary and I are going to hang out tomorrow? From what I can gather, we'll be standing and we're going to go take back our country. I hope there's free food involved.

Another Reason Why People Should Read

2008-02-02T18:43:00.000-08:00

I've never read Lolita, but I know enough about it to never market a child's bed with her name on it.

Oscars

2008-01-29T19:23:00.001-08:00

So, we don't know if the Oscars will be on or not but it's a special time of year when they roll around. I'm trying to see as many films as possible so I can determine my choices but unless Michael Clayton blows me out of the water, There Will Be Blood is my choice for best picture. I'll explain that choice later, I suppose.

Have you seen any Oscar flicks? What are your choices?

Something Pretty

2008-01-29T11:00:00.000-08:00

The Riddle of the Dopple

2008-01-29T10:59:00.000-08:00

What has four legs in the morning, no legs in the afternoon, and no body at night?

There are at least two answers.

Jersey...

2008-01-27T09:44:00.001-08:00

More Jersey Embarrassment.

CeCe's Netflix

2008-01-26T21:14:00.000-08:00

I just joined Netflix, which my bank account is a little nervous about but not too much so.

I decided to do so after rewatching The Office today and hearing Kelly's yapping, "So then the next movie moves to the top of the queue. So number five becomes number four. Number six becomes number five. Number three becomes number two. Etcetera, etcetera. And let’s just say that I just sent back Love Actually, which was awesome. And they sent me Uptown Girls, which is also awesome. But guess what? Now I want to see Love Actually again. But it’s at the bottom of the queue! Oh no, what’ll I do? What I do is this. I go online, I go “click, click, click,” and I change the order of the queue so that I can see Love Actually as soon as I want to. It’s so easy, Ryan. Do you really not know how Netflix works?"

And I remembered that I wanted to see Amelie but did not want to go out in the rain or watch it illegally.

I've added my queue to the sidebar so you can browse through it and make any kind of comments in the comment section as to what you think I should be watching.

Yay, Netflix!

News You Should Know About Google

2008-01-26T10:26:00.000-08:00

This week your life may change forever and you might not even know it yet.
Check out the dealio on the 700-MHz spectrum auction!

Blackberries

2008-01-25T19:20:00.000-08:00

I'm a huge fan of blackberries. Also, I'm not cross-eyed as it would appear in this picture.

We humans have eaten blackberries for thousands of years, probably thinking they were berries the entire time. We were wrong, so wrong.

Blackberries are not berries at all. As an avocado is a fruit, a blackberry is an aggregate fruit. You see how each one has a droplet? That makes it an aggregate fruit. Just like raspberries.

Blackberries grow all over the place from New Zealand to Chile. They are enjoyed all over the world, from blackberry juice in Ecuador to blackberry crumpets in England. I really don't know if they make blackberry crumpets but it is sure fun to assume they do. We grow them here in the US, of course, and my grandparents used to have them growing on their property in Folsom, Louisiana. My grandparents no longer live on that property, as one has died and the other has moved to Mandeville. The USDA tells you the story of berry processing. So, there's a career for you young whippersnappers.

A superstition about blackberries... In the good ol' UK, they say that you should not eat blackberries after a certain time in September because the devil has claimed them by taking a whiz on them. This superstition may hold some weight because mold may start to grow on blackberries after this time.

September 29th is Poisoned Blackberry Day, probably from the above story. Celebrate with someone you don't really like.

According to health24.com, "Blackberries are a good low fat source of vitamin E and it helps to fight infection. It also contains salcylate, which is thought to lower the chance of heart risk. It also contains vitamin C, phenolic acids and folate."

So, as my chemistry teacher in high school would say, "Vitamin E, children, for Alzheimer's disease!" He believed Vitamine E fought off Alzheimer's disease. I believe "they" haven't quite figured that one out yet.

I checked out Homestead Farm, a farm in Maryland that welcomes visitors and also grows blackberries. They have gathered a whole list of recipes on blackberries. I think I would just fall in love with someone who baked me a blackberry pie. Yummy.

West Virginia has an annual Blackberry Festival and its own Blackberry City. So, if you're bored as July turns into August, head to West Virginia.

Blackberry can also be spelled BlackBerry and it magically becomes a PDA.

These are just a few tidbits about blackberries. You can always do what I did to learn more - type in blackberry into your favorite search engine (ours is Google) and find out whatever you would like to know!

Information from this entry that was not cited was probably from Wikipedia, which of course cites other places. Do NOT consider this to be an academic article of any sorts but rather the excitement of someone who just loves blackberries.

January 31

2008-01-24T18:40:00.000-08:00

Lost returns.

I'll be watching it with my friend Marcus and his gay friends. I asked him if he was insulted that Lost is known for diversity and yet, does not have a gay character on it. He said that Tom was gay. And Marcus is right. Because Tom said that Kate wasn't his type. And seriously, Kate is every guy's type.

I'm going to watch There Will Be Blood with Marcus tonight. While I'm gone, think about which loved one you're going to share Lost with. Yeah, it's legal to end sentences with prepositions now.

Lost

2008-01-24T08:57:00.000-08:00

If Lost is ever televised again, I found a cool site that has a bunch of nerdy maps for the diehard fans who need to watch the show with a compass in hand.

Nerdy Lost Maps

A Comic

2008-01-24T07:21:00.000-08:00

I made this comic a while ago using the "Comic Life" which is pre-installed on Macs (all of them?). This is what I consider to be more of a biography rather than a comic about a friend of mine named Kyle Chorpening... "Chorps."

I'm Artsy

2008-01-23T20:52:00.000-08:00

So I'm trying to do some cool shit with computers and art and photos and silly things. This is something I did. Love it.

Tiger Phone Card

2008-01-23T13:16:00.000-08:00

I was listening to 103.1 here in Los Angeles one Sunday as I was driving home from Orange County to visit relatives and heard this song that would NOT get out of my head for about a week.

It was about two people who lived far away from each other and were very happy to see each other when they finally saw one another again. It was poppy and fun and cheerful and I loved it.

Here comes the bad part - I could not find it anywhere with a lyrics search. It prattled in my head for a week until I found the matching song from the DJ's songlist.

SO, check out Dengue Fever on their MySpace page and listen to "Tiger Phone Card" on their Tune Widget. It is the happiness.

Boooooooring

2008-01-23T13:11:00.001-08:00

Alternate definition according to, uh, my BRAIN:

DOPPLEGANGER:

1) That which is righteously bitching.
2) Something that is utterly boss turbo hipster, but not tubular.
3) The danknuts.
4) A word you don't know, dumbass.
5) TWIN GHOSTS - like Casper and Slimer.

Hope this helps the confusion.

Doppelgänger Definition

2008-01-23T12:54:00.000-08:00

American Heritage Dictionary calls a doppelgänger

a ghostly double of a living person, especially one that haunts its fleshly counterpart.

So, we're here to creep one another out. Although, who is the fleshly one and who is the ghostly one? I think it's a war to see who is palest in actuality.

However, we're probably going with good ol' Webster:

alter ego

So, either way, we're here to creep you out a bit. We're your double goers in English and your doppelgängers in German.

Thank you, dictionary.com.

Post Whatever We Want?

2008-01-23T12:48:00.001-08:00

Well then, here's a link to the site I support for making money online by playing games:

Moola.com

Now we just need people to contribute/read/post comments.