This is indeed a true story, it just happened in August. I almost forgot about my self-promise that I would post it by Christmas. And here we are.
A little back-story must be given in order for this story to make sense to the less-informed readers. First, Charter. I went to the Benjamin Classical Charter Public School (B.F.C.C.P.S.) for 5 years, and I miss it dearly. The "Public" part was added in 2005. That building holds more memories of mine than you can shake a stick at, and I think about it every day. Every year it holds a "field day", which is a day near the end of the school year where the 8th graders assist in a variety of activities for the little kids. Also, every year t-shirts (made by the company Graphic Images) are given to the students, with the name of the school, the year, and sometimes an inspiring quote on the back.
Second, youth group. Though I'm pretty sure most of you know what that is, at Dakar Academy they do it a little different. It starts at 7:00, and it's basically a short sermon (1-1.5 hours) given in front of like 30-50 teenagers, and then people just kind of mingle outside until curfew for the dorms. Which is like 9 or something. Middle school is held in the library, and high school goes separately to the auditorium.
Finally, Saturday Market. Basically the mall of Dakar, Saturday Market is comprised of dozens upon dozens of basic little wooden tables. Every Saturday, salesman come out with their various wares (shoes, soccer jerseys, rear view mirrors, etc.), sets up on one of these tables, and sells things (or tries to sell things) all day. The whole of the "market" extends, quite literally, for several miles. The multitudes of salespeople and things to buy are overwhelming, especially so when you are white, because so many people try to sell you things. It's generally a place I avoid, for that reason. Anyways...
I bet you can't see where I'm going with these, but they are relevant, I assure you.
So, here we are at the 3rd week of youth group, near the end of August. Both middle school and high school has been let out, so I'm standing awkwardly alone and Sam is having a light conversation with some acquaintances on the basketball court. All of a sudden, Sam trots over to me with a shocked look on his face. "Will, that girl over there is wearing a Charter shirt!" Now of course, there's no way that could happen, right? The entire student population of B.F.C.C.P.S.'s grades K-8 is about 400 each year. And there's only about 300 in DA's K-12. And since there's about 365 million people in the States, and only 11 million in Senegal...you do the math.
But, I humor him and look over. From where we are, it really just looks like a dark green shirt. Even he agrees he could have been seeing things- its only been a couple weeks since the big move and we both miss home, and the lighting of the court was less than spectacular. We're both a little disappointed, sure, but none of us really expected for it to be a real charter shirt. He walks back to his little circle, and for 15 minutes I can't get the memory of B.F.C.C.P.S. out of my head. "I didn't really get a good look at it," I thought, "maybe I should walk over and check it again." It may even force me to socialize with other human beings.
After a few minutes I do kind of walk past, pretending I have some destination just beyond the wall and the route just happens to pass by the circle of girls where the one with the shirt currently resided. I was stopped in my tracks. On the back, clear as day, was an inspiring quote by Elanor Roosevelt. I practically sprinted to where I could see the front of the shirt, and there in bold white letters was B.F.C.C.S. and the numbers '03. Hardly able to string together enough words to make a sentence, somehow she understood that I was asking if she had gone there and responded "No, I bought it at Saturday market."
Now, I've tried to think how this could have occurred, maybe someone donated it, maybe Graphic Images sent a surplus of shirts to some charity and they trickled down to Africa, then stolen by someone and sold, then somehow that girl chose the charter shirt in the midst of hundreds of other options. There are a myriad of ways this shirt from that school could land in this school, all equally, astonishingly improbable. So I'm going to try to finally stop reasoning it out and let you take this story for what you want.
Merry Christmas!
-Will
"Christmas was on its way. Lovely, glorious, beautiful Christmas, upon which the entire kid year revolved."
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Monday, December 22, 2008
I Like to Move It- Part 1 of 2
Actually, as opposed to what the title tells you, I hate moving. Ironically, not many I know have moved so many times as I have in such a short amount of time. I'm sure people like that exist, I just don't know any.
Since Fall 2007, I've moved:
1. Out of Massachusetts
2. Into Quebec
3. Out of Quebec
3 1/2. Into the apartment
4. Out of apartment
5. Into our new house
And with that cliffhanger of a last post, I figured I should at least outline the mess of a move we had last Thursday.
So, I've finished exams, I've left the school until next year, and I've begun to acclimate to a nice, long winter break. And then I remembered that I have to move tomorrow. First day of break, and I'm getting up early and moving boxes at the crack of 9.
But, I dragged myself out of bed, and there I was at some strange looking "facility" where apparently all of our stuff has been held for 4 months. I think it's a place to house temporary missionaries, but to me it looked more like a spot that some big mob dealing would take place; the boss sitting sipping strawberry daiquiris on his veranda, while a helicopter lands and some scrawny, sleazy guy holds his hat and tie from flying away while stepping out. Anyways, as it turns out our boxes and furniture wasn't all sold away to Skinny Vinny and his gang, it was right there where we left it!
45 minutes after it was supposed to arrive, the moving truck pulled up. It is Africa, so I wasn't expecting much (use the previously-mentioned Formula), but this was pretty bad. It was about a third of the size of the shipping container the stuff got over in, and the floor consisted of wooden sheets over some metal bars. You could see the ground in some places. How I yearned for a nice U-Haul truck. I'll bet you've never yearned for a U-Haul truck.
2 hours later, me, Dad, and a bunch of other people I don't know but who spoke English had said crappy truck jam-packed with 98% of our assorted household items. We then drove to our new house, the occupants of which were to have left by 6:00 a.m. Guess what? They were still there. Frantically running around the house, packing up remaining odds and ends, this was the result of the first misunderstanding of the day. The D's, as I'll call them, since they're name is french and therefore impossible to spell, have some interesting moving habits, if I do say so myself. The vegetable garden in the backyard, which just last week had been flourishing with various plants, edible and otherwise, was completely yanked out and now was a plot of dirt. They took the plants with them. The batteries in the AC remotes were taken. Everything was dirty. The room they promised mom to paint was left unpainted. They sold the TV we bought from them to someone else? I could go on, but I think you get the picture.
However, when they left they left behind some really random crap. They took the time to take all the batteries out of the remotes (apparently half-drained AAA's are a rare form of currency in Senegal), yet they left piles of assorted stuff in pretty much every room. Half of a toy cell phone. A deflated Madagascar mini basketball (as in the movie, not the country.) The top of a broken spray can. Pieces of soccer ball. A watch case? I could go on, but I think you get the picture.
Anyways, I really did like my first look at the house. It had just as much space as the apartment we subletted, but it was more in separate rooms and less in giant, open common areas. If there's such a thing as anti-clostrophobia, and I'm fairly certain there is, I had it in that apartment. It was too open. This place has no such problems. But at this point it was time to take the truck back to get the remaining dregs of furniture left at the mafia headquarters. This is where the "shouting arguement" part of the formula comes in. The moving guy and Dad were talking about going back. I was lying in the hammock and started to hear shouting in French. That marks the second time I've heard Dad argue in French, and it's still just as awesome as when he put down that idiotic clerk in the grocery store and Quebec. Anyways, I think he won, because we didn't have to pay the guy (who was trying to rip us off) any more money.
And finally, we ate a delicious lunch of sammies, canned ravioli, soda and cookies. 3 1/2 days of unpacking later, and here I am, sitting at the laptop on our new patio-made-living-room furniture, chronicling it out. You're welcome. Now you don't even need to use math.
Oh, and I planned on doing this earlier, but I kept forgetting. Too bad. I might be adding to this list when I think of a good one.
DA students are like Moms because:
11. They think I should get a haircut
12. They think the music I'm listening to should be turned down
-Will
P.S. Happy 50th post, everyone!
"There are many ways to kill a zombie, but the most satisfying way is to stab it in the eye with a wooden stick."
Since Fall 2007, I've moved:
1. Out of Massachusetts
2. Into Quebec
3. Out of Quebec
3 1/2. Into the apartment
4. Out of apartment
5. Into our new house
And with that cliffhanger of a last post, I figured I should at least outline the mess of a move we had last Thursday.
So, I've finished exams, I've left the school until next year, and I've begun to acclimate to a nice, long winter break. And then I remembered that I have to move tomorrow. First day of break, and I'm getting up early and moving boxes at the crack of 9.
But, I dragged myself out of bed, and there I was at some strange looking "facility" where apparently all of our stuff has been held for 4 months. I think it's a place to house temporary missionaries, but to me it looked more like a spot that some big mob dealing would take place; the boss sitting sipping strawberry daiquiris on his veranda, while a helicopter lands and some scrawny, sleazy guy holds his hat and tie from flying away while stepping out. Anyways, as it turns out our boxes and furniture wasn't all sold away to Skinny Vinny and his gang, it was right there where we left it!
45 minutes after it was supposed to arrive, the moving truck pulled up. It is Africa, so I wasn't expecting much (use the previously-mentioned Formula), but this was pretty bad. It was about a third of the size of the shipping container the stuff got over in, and the floor consisted of wooden sheets over some metal bars. You could see the ground in some places. How I yearned for a nice U-Haul truck. I'll bet you've never yearned for a U-Haul truck.
2 hours later, me, Dad, and a bunch of other people I don't know but who spoke English had said crappy truck jam-packed with 98% of our assorted household items. We then drove to our new house, the occupants of which were to have left by 6:00 a.m. Guess what? They were still there. Frantically running around the house, packing up remaining odds and ends, this was the result of the first misunderstanding of the day. The D's, as I'll call them, since they're name is french and therefore impossible to spell, have some interesting moving habits, if I do say so myself. The vegetable garden in the backyard, which just last week had been flourishing with various plants, edible and otherwise, was completely yanked out and now was a plot of dirt. They took the plants with them. The batteries in the AC remotes were taken. Everything was dirty. The room they promised mom to paint was left unpainted. They sold the TV we bought from them to someone else? I could go on, but I think you get the picture.
However, when they left they left behind some really random crap. They took the time to take all the batteries out of the remotes (apparently half-drained AAA's are a rare form of currency in Senegal), yet they left piles of assorted stuff in pretty much every room. Half of a toy cell phone. A deflated Madagascar mini basketball (as in the movie, not the country.) The top of a broken spray can. Pieces of soccer ball. A watch case? I could go on, but I think you get the picture.
Anyways, I really did like my first look at the house. It had just as much space as the apartment we subletted, but it was more in separate rooms and less in giant, open common areas. If there's such a thing as anti-clostrophobia, and I'm fairly certain there is, I had it in that apartment. It was too open. This place has no such problems. But at this point it was time to take the truck back to get the remaining dregs of furniture left at the mafia headquarters. This is where the "shouting arguement" part of the formula comes in. The moving guy and Dad were talking about going back. I was lying in the hammock and started to hear shouting in French. That marks the second time I've heard Dad argue in French, and it's still just as awesome as when he put down that idiotic clerk in the grocery store and Quebec. Anyways, I think he won, because we didn't have to pay the guy (who was trying to rip us off) any more money.
And finally, we ate a delicious lunch of sammies, canned ravioli, soda and cookies. 3 1/2 days of unpacking later, and here I am, sitting at the laptop on our new patio-made-living-room furniture, chronicling it out. You're welcome. Now you don't even need to use math.
Oh, and I planned on doing this earlier, but I kept forgetting. Too bad. I might be adding to this list when I think of a good one.
DA students are like Moms because:
11. They think I should get a haircut
12. They think the music I'm listening to should be turned down
-Will
P.S. Happy 50th post, everyone!
"There are many ways to kill a zombie, but the most satisfying way is to stab it in the eye with a wooden stick."
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Math is a Wonderful Thing
Even though my Math exam was on Tuesday, and my brain began its usual during-break atrophy the minute after I finished that last exam, while helping with the move today, I thought of a good formula (No, this doesn't happen a lot.)
Will's African Experience Formula:
(A1 + D) + N x .5r + H x .4S/H = A2
Which translates to:
(American situation + smell of dung) + Number of People in Situation x .5 Attempted/Succeeded ripoffs + Number of hours x .4 Shouting Arguments/hour = African situation
Now use that, and you tell me just how our move went today. If you're good, Santa will send you pictures of the new place. At some point.
-Will
"An intervention...it's sort of hard to describe but really it's a coming together- it's a surprise party! For people who are...who have addictions. And you get in their face and you scream at them and make them feel really badly about themselves. And then they stop."
Will's African Experience Formula:
(A1 + D) + N x .5r + H x .4S/H = A2
Which translates to:
(American situation + smell of dung) + Number of People in Situation x .5 Attempted/Succeeded ripoffs + Number of hours x .4 Shouting Arguments/hour = African situation
Now use that, and you tell me just how our move went today. If you're good, Santa will send you pictures of the new place. At some point.
-Will
"An intervention...it's sort of hard to describe but really it's a coming together- it's a surprise party! For people who are...who have addictions. And you get in their face and you scream at them and make them feel really badly about themselves. And then they stop."
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Cold Front Passes Through Dakar- Temperature Dipped to 70 Degrees!
You know, I think, in some ways, blogging is the new video games. I always do it when I have something more important to do, like study, or rest, or use the bathroom. So again, I could replenish energy in the form of sleeping, so that I can aptly move boxes without falling asleep, or I could replenish energy by blogging, which doesn’t actually replenish energy at all.
This week was exams. I only had 4, but that’s still kind of a lot. It’s much more than 2, for instance. I was pretty well prepared for all of them, but I’ve always kind of hated exams. Some of the dislike comes from the fact that they’re big tests and there’s some pressure in taking them, sure, but another big factor is that they totally ruin pre-break goodbyes. You can say goodbye on the Friday before, but you know you’ll see ‘em at least one other time. But then, during exams, you don’t know when you’ll see them last, so you might get lucky and time it perfect, or you might miss a goodbye altogether, or you might say it early and then every time you see them after that is really awkward, and the more meaningful the goodbye, the more awkward it is. It’s sort of like if you have a dog, and it dies, and you’re very sad. But then it comes back to life, but you know it’s going to die again really soon, so you don’t want to get attached to it again. Because it will die.
Of course, this year I didn’t have to worry about that, because I didn’t say goodbye to anyone, and certainly no one said goodbye to me. After the last exam, I just kind of unceremoniously walked off campus and down the sandy road to home. There was no big hugs or presents, no swapping of e-mails to stay in touch for the whole 2 weeks we won’t see each other, none of that. I just walked away. While walking home, I remembered where I was at this time last year. I cleaned out my locker, put on 3 extra layers of clothing, snow gloves, a Pink Floyd ski cap, and said goodbye to a few friends. There was snow on the ground, and I was probably ecstatic about the fact that I was going home for a whole week, planning to see not only my extended family but my friends as well. This break? Well, we’re moving tomorrow, there sure as heck isn’t any snow, and I have no idea what I will occupy my 3 weeks of idle time with. Half of the people at school are leaving anyways, migrating from the dorms to various West African countries. The other half is staying here, and they usually have relatives, mostly siblings, coming to their house and taking up they’re time.
Although, I'm not friends with either half, so I guess it's a moot point.
-Will
"I get by with a little help from my friends."
P.S. After that last exam, I walked home, arrived, got a call from my teacher, walked back finished the last page (which I had evidently forgotten) and walked back. It was a blast.
P.S. S. HAPPY BIRTHDAY DAD!
This week was exams. I only had 4, but that’s still kind of a lot. It’s much more than 2, for instance. I was pretty well prepared for all of them, but I’ve always kind of hated exams. Some of the dislike comes from the fact that they’re big tests and there’s some pressure in taking them, sure, but another big factor is that they totally ruin pre-break goodbyes. You can say goodbye on the Friday before, but you know you’ll see ‘em at least one other time. But then, during exams, you don’t know when you’ll see them last, so you might get lucky and time it perfect, or you might miss a goodbye altogether, or you might say it early and then every time you see them after that is really awkward, and the more meaningful the goodbye, the more awkward it is. It’s sort of like if you have a dog, and it dies, and you’re very sad. But then it comes back to life, but you know it’s going to die again really soon, so you don’t want to get attached to it again. Because it will die.
Of course, this year I didn’t have to worry about that, because I didn’t say goodbye to anyone, and certainly no one said goodbye to me. After the last exam, I just kind of unceremoniously walked off campus and down the sandy road to home. There was no big hugs or presents, no swapping of e-mails to stay in touch for the whole 2 weeks we won’t see each other, none of that. I just walked away. While walking home, I remembered where I was at this time last year. I cleaned out my locker, put on 3 extra layers of clothing, snow gloves, a Pink Floyd ski cap, and said goodbye to a few friends. There was snow on the ground, and I was probably ecstatic about the fact that I was going home for a whole week, planning to see not only my extended family but my friends as well. This break? Well, we’re moving tomorrow, there sure as heck isn’t any snow, and I have no idea what I will occupy my 3 weeks of idle time with. Half of the people at school are leaving anyways, migrating from the dorms to various West African countries. The other half is staying here, and they usually have relatives, mostly siblings, coming to their house and taking up they’re time.
Although, I'm not friends with either half, so I guess it's a moot point.
-Will
"I get by with a little help from my friends."
P.S. After that last exam, I walked home, arrived, got a call from my teacher, walked back finished the last page (which I had evidently forgotten) and walked back. It was a blast.
P.S. S. HAPPY BIRTHDAY DAD!
Sunday, December 14, 2008
And to All a Good Night
Study for an English exam, or write a blog entry. I think we all know where this is going.
We've had a lot of mosquitoes in the house recently. There was a pretty sunset today. I almost went to the beach last Tuesday. Kids played soccer during the Christmas program tonight. All our fans have been running nonstop these past few days.
What do these seemingly random situations have in common? None of them should be happening in December. Living in New England forces you to really appreciate the ebb and flows of the seasons. From harsh, snowy winters to beautiful, orange and red falls, I've developed a seasonal clock in me which is now horribly off-time. Because, according to this particular time piece, it's August.
Somehow it's really hard to me to get in the Christmas spirit when I'm walking around in short and a t-shirt all the time. Christmas, to me, is defined by cold weather, decorated stores, and a chance of snow. Call me a child of the always commercializing America, but when I turn on the radio and don't hear Christmas songs, it's not December. When I walk to school and don't see a single Christmas light, it's not December. When the thermometer reads 80 degrees and I'm sweating in gym shorts, it's not December!
Of course, there are a myriad of different reasons I seem to lack the "Christmas spirit" recently. Maybe it's because we're moving to the new house in 4 days and we don't have any decorations up yet. Maybe it's because everyone at school seems pretty darn cheery, and I do my best to act the opposite of DAers. Maybe it's because everyone around me spited and butchered Halloween, and I don't have any warm feelings when they want to celebrate their favorite holiday. And then, it could be because I'm in West Africa, 5,000 miles away of my home or my friends and I despise my school and the people who frequent it. My money's on "all of the above."
-Will
"I'm dreamin' of a white Christmas, just like the ones I used to know."
We've had a lot of mosquitoes in the house recently. There was a pretty sunset today. I almost went to the beach last Tuesday. Kids played soccer during the Christmas program tonight. All our fans have been running nonstop these past few days.
What do these seemingly random situations have in common? None of them should be happening in December. Living in New England forces you to really appreciate the ebb and flows of the seasons. From harsh, snowy winters to beautiful, orange and red falls, I've developed a seasonal clock in me which is now horribly off-time. Because, according to this particular time piece, it's August.
Somehow it's really hard to me to get in the Christmas spirit when I'm walking around in short and a t-shirt all the time. Christmas, to me, is defined by cold weather, decorated stores, and a chance of snow. Call me a child of the always commercializing America, but when I turn on the radio and don't hear Christmas songs, it's not December. When I walk to school and don't see a single Christmas light, it's not December. When the thermometer reads 80 degrees and I'm sweating in gym shorts, it's not December!
Of course, there are a myriad of different reasons I seem to lack the "Christmas spirit" recently. Maybe it's because we're moving to the new house in 4 days and we don't have any decorations up yet. Maybe it's because everyone at school seems pretty darn cheery, and I do my best to act the opposite of DAers. Maybe it's because everyone around me spited and butchered Halloween, and I don't have any warm feelings when they want to celebrate their favorite holiday. And then, it could be because I'm in West Africa, 5,000 miles away of my home or my friends and I despise my school and the people who frequent it. My money's on "all of the above."
-Will
"I'm dreamin' of a white Christmas, just like the ones I used to know."
Thursday, December 11, 2008
I Wonder How You Spell Tobasco...
So today, as I was walking home from school, I realized that it was the first time in months I had returned home from youth group without unbridled rage leaking out my ears. That thought process somehow led me to the fact I haven't posted in a while, and here we are.
Well, truth be told, I really only have two stories to tell, but I'll probably find some clever way to meaningfully connect them together to wrap up at the end. First, on Tuesday, we went to an African friends' house to celebrate Tobasci. In case there is someone reading this who has not previously made themselves familiar with traditional Senegalese...traditions, I will tell you what this is. Tobasci is the most popular Senegalese holiday, and is usually celebrated by eating sheep. And since there is no frozen mutton lining the shelves of the Dakar Market Basket (Is he kidding? Is he not? You may never know.), everyone also kills and prepares said lamb. And now you know more about culture, and have taken the next step of being a man/woman of the world. You're welcome.
Now, here's another conundrum I'm faced with. In recent months, I have noticed that my stomach is considerably weaker than I felt it once was. I cannot decide whether that is truly the case, or that the smells and sights here are truly that much worse than in Quebec or Franklin. No matter which, I will tell you that the basic "city smell" of Dakar is unearthly. The smell of the cooking of the apartment below us has nearly sent me into convulsions. Also, I won't get into the details of the traditional Wolof preparation of lamb, but I will say that multiple Africans wringing sheep intestines into a metal bowl on the ground is not pretty. And I thought The Jungle was bad. So that was my day off Tuesday, but then I got to eat some lamb! With some lamb hairs on it and everything, just like mom used to make.*
Another weird thing happened to me, on Wednesday this time. During gym, we were over in this area of the "field" (see: square of sand) where chunks of cement are more frequent than blades of grass, practicing running for the Olympics thing they do at DA every year. All of a sudden, a girl in my class points behind me and screams "Rat! it's a rat!", and before you can say R.O.U.S., 6 or 7 males in a 5 yard vicinity had aforementioned chunks of cement in their hands and a somewhat hungry look in their eyes, sprinting after it and hurling rocks at it. They nearly hit it a few times, but the 2-foot-wide monstrosity withdrew into its hole before 15 seconds had passed.
I still don't know why this happened. This is a perfect example of me being completely out of place here. There is an exclusive Missionary Kid club, and am not-and have no interest in being-a member. The screaming of the presence of a rat I understand, but why everyone tried to kill it and why everyone knew everyone else was going to help try to kill it is so far beyond me it just passed the Andromeda galaxy.
And these two reflect on my experience so far in Africa...because...rats...and lambs...are both...mammals.
-Will
"Rodents Of Unusual Size? I don't believe they exist."
*Mom, your cooking is delicious. This was a joke.
Well, truth be told, I really only have two stories to tell, but I'll probably find some clever way to meaningfully connect them together to wrap up at the end. First, on Tuesday, we went to an African friends' house to celebrate Tobasci. In case there is someone reading this who has not previously made themselves familiar with traditional Senegalese...traditions, I will tell you what this is. Tobasci is the most popular Senegalese holiday, and is usually celebrated by eating sheep. And since there is no frozen mutton lining the shelves of the Dakar Market Basket (Is he kidding? Is he not? You may never know.), everyone also kills and prepares said lamb. And now you know more about culture, and have taken the next step of being a man/woman of the world. You're welcome.
Now, here's another conundrum I'm faced with. In recent months, I have noticed that my stomach is considerably weaker than I felt it once was. I cannot decide whether that is truly the case, or that the smells and sights here are truly that much worse than in Quebec or Franklin. No matter which, I will tell you that the basic "city smell" of Dakar is unearthly. The smell of the cooking of the apartment below us has nearly sent me into convulsions. Also, I won't get into the details of the traditional Wolof preparation of lamb, but I will say that multiple Africans wringing sheep intestines into a metal bowl on the ground is not pretty. And I thought The Jungle was bad. So that was my day off Tuesday, but then I got to eat some lamb! With some lamb hairs on it and everything, just like mom used to make.*
Another weird thing happened to me, on Wednesday this time. During gym, we were over in this area of the "field" (see: square of sand) where chunks of cement are more frequent than blades of grass, practicing running for the Olympics thing they do at DA every year. All of a sudden, a girl in my class points behind me and screams "Rat! it's a rat!", and before you can say R.O.U.S., 6 or 7 males in a 5 yard vicinity had aforementioned chunks of cement in their hands and a somewhat hungry look in their eyes, sprinting after it and hurling rocks at it. They nearly hit it a few times, but the 2-foot-wide monstrosity withdrew into its hole before 15 seconds had passed.
I still don't know why this happened. This is a perfect example of me being completely out of place here. There is an exclusive Missionary Kid club, and am not-and have no interest in being-a member. The screaming of the presence of a rat I understand, but why everyone tried to kill it and why everyone knew everyone else was going to help try to kill it is so far beyond me it just passed the Andromeda galaxy.
And these two reflect on my experience so far in Africa...because...rats...and lambs...are both...mammals.
-Will
"Rodents Of Unusual Size? I don't believe they exist."
*Mom, your cooking is delicious. This was a joke.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
May Flowers Bring December Showers
I had a shower experience I just had to share with everyone today. It has a mind of its own.
(All times Greenwich standard. And not exact)
7:05- Shaken by Dad, told to wake up
7:10- Hear loud noises in kitchen, decide to wake up
7:13- Turn water on in shower, pick up the right door and put in place
10 seconds later- Dad calls in through bathroom window (I know, right?) that the hot water heater is "working"
1 second later- I recall the last time I had a shower that wasn't cold. It was August 6th.
5 seconds later- Step into shower
10 seconds later- finish closing left door after trying for 9 seconds
3 seconds later- Turn cold water on, then try to turn hot water on. Hot water doesn't work, so I give up, shiver for a minute, then get used to it
7:24- Finish shower. Turn water off. Try hot water again just for kicks. It works.
3 seconds later- After disappointment leaves, I try to turn hot water off. It is stuck.
15 seconds later- Succeed in turning hot water knob all the way to the right. Cold water continues to pour.
2 seconds later- After checking both knobs are off, I just let the cold water run.
1 second later- Step out of shower, kick the right door by accident, and it falls off, knocking the shower head out of its holder.
6:34 p.m.- While taking pictures of the shower, the shower head pours water on me and the door falls from its position and hits me over the head.
-Will
"When I get older, losing my hair,
Many years from now.
Will you still be sending me a valentine,
birthday greetings, bottle of wine?"
Sunday, November 30, 2008
So's your mom!
While on my ever-continuing quest to create analogies suiting the student body at DA, I came up with a good one.
Dakar Academy
Dakar Academy
DA students are like moms because:
1. Moms hate video games
2. Moms can be incredibly passive-aggressive
3. Moms “know what you’re going through”
4. Moms always want you to go outside
5. Moms want you to make new friends, but don’t really help the process
6. Moms rate all kinds of media by how many swears or references it has in it
7. Moms only make friends with other moms
8. Moms (pretend to) enjoy healthy food-it makes them look more responsible
9. Moms don’t understand why you don’t want to be their friend on facebook
10. Never, ever, EVER kiss a mom
-Will
"I try to take one day at a time, but sometimes several days attack me at once."
DA students are like moms because:
1. Moms hate video games
2. Moms can be incredibly passive-aggressive
3. Moms “know what you’re going through”
4. Moms always want you to go outside
5. Moms want you to make new friends, but don’t really help the process
6. Moms rate all kinds of media by how many swears or references it has in it
7. Moms only make friends with other moms
8. Moms (pretend to) enjoy healthy food-it makes them look more responsible
9. Moms don’t understand why you don’t want to be their friend on facebook
10. Never, ever, EVER kiss a mom
-Will
"I try to take one day at a time, but sometimes several days attack me at once."
Saturday, November 29, 2008
The Computers Know Everything
Today my e-mail gave me a very abrasive command: "Will, get in shape"
Of course, it was from Nintendo, about Wii Fit, but as you can imagine I was pretty taken aback. I don't like it when my technology tells me to do things. Especially things that imply me to exercise and eat healthier.
But after my initial reaction, I thought of some of my better emails from those signup newsletters. Sure, there's the annoying, weekly, iTunes new music Tuesdays emails, and the occasional iTunes reciept, and the monthly Wii and DS newsletters (also from Nintendo), but I remember one or two that I got from them that were awesome. One, for a Mystery Case Files game, came with a subject line "Top Secret Information regarding Phil." Sure, I didn't really care about Phil, but for a breif moment I felt like someone actually sent me something important to this unknown man's future, and possibly his massive fortune as well. The subject said so, right?
My favorite though, was right before the launch of Super Paper Mario, in which Bowser and Princess Peach get married (I know, it was weird.) The subject line said something like "You are invited to a royal occasion. Already good. I don't break out my red cummerbund nearly as often as I'd like to. After I clicked on it, though, I was greeted by Bowser and Peach's smiling faces (Peach was brainwashed), in full wedding get-up, atop two white pillars and the middle invited me to their wedding. It was still weird that the two were getting married, sure, but I'm telling you, if there had been a location, no matter what hemisphere, I would have seriously thought about going. Curse you again, expensive airline tickets!
So, the moral of the story is, computers are human, and if you hurt them they will insult your bodyweight.
-Will
"I will shoot you. And I know robot karate!"
Of course, it was from Nintendo, about Wii Fit, but as you can imagine I was pretty taken aback. I don't like it when my technology tells me to do things. Especially things that imply me to exercise and eat healthier.
But after my initial reaction, I thought of some of my better emails from those signup newsletters. Sure, there's the annoying, weekly, iTunes new music Tuesdays emails, and the occasional iTunes reciept, and the monthly Wii and DS newsletters (also from Nintendo), but I remember one or two that I got from them that were awesome. One, for a Mystery Case Files game, came with a subject line "Top Secret Information regarding Phil." Sure, I didn't really care about Phil, but for a breif moment I felt like someone actually sent me something important to this unknown man's future, and possibly his massive fortune as well. The subject said so, right?
My favorite though, was right before the launch of Super Paper Mario, in which Bowser and Princess Peach get married (I know, it was weird.) The subject line said something like "You are invited to a royal occasion. Already good. I don't break out my red cummerbund nearly as often as I'd like to. After I clicked on it, though, I was greeted by Bowser and Peach's smiling faces (Peach was brainwashed), in full wedding get-up, atop two white pillars and the middle invited me to their wedding. It was still weird that the two were getting married, sure, but I'm telling you, if there had been a location, no matter what hemisphere, I would have seriously thought about going. Curse you again, expensive airline tickets!
So, the moral of the story is, computers are human, and if you hurt them they will insult your bodyweight.
-Will
"I will shoot you. And I know robot karate!"
Thursday, November 20, 2008
America Day
Well, I was thinking the other day (I find this to be entertaining sometimes). I thought, "Hey, I almost always get my blog on when I have a really crappy day. Maybe one of these times I should work my typing magic when I have an abnormally good day, just to screw with everyone." And here we are.
Somewhere along the line, my (brilliant) parents came up with a special day and dubbed it "America day." I didn't even name it, they did. Mom and pop came up with that. I know, it sounds like a name I'd give it. But moving on, school was the same. So that didn't change. But then, there's always after school. I think that's when the red, white, and blue started to kick in.
So, as you may or may not know, there's no concert band at DA. Me and a friend and a teacher (both trumpet players, I'm on T-bone) decided to remedy this by forming a rag-tag pep band to play at basketball games and such. I'm proud to announce that Wednesday, Day of America, was the bands inaugural performance at a varsity basketball game.
Now that you're done clapping and "huzzah"ing, I can say that it went very well, and we received many comments and look forward to a great many moons of gracing otherwise DA dull sporting events with our presence. But hey, it was band! That's pretty darn American. We did invent trombones after all. And yes, I know we didn't really invent trombones. But you better believe we perfected them.
So then we got home, and waiting for us were a tray of delicious french fries and chicken nuggets. Normal, right? Incorrect! You know all those animals they think are extinct but then they find some like 20 years later in some random forest they'd never think to look in? Chicken nuggets are like that here. So, what was normal in America becomes an exquisite dining experience in Senegal. I can't even imagine what'd I have to say about having root beer regularly. It boggles the mind, huh?
And, as if chicken nuggets and band wasn't enough, the sundae was topped with a cake. A delicious, sci-fi cake. We got a package from our friends the Negros (that's their last name) containing all kinds of pure awesome. And when I say awesome, I mean Iron Man, Independance Day, and I,Robot DVDs. That's what I'm talking about.
But I'm really trying to say two things. First, thank you to Mom and Dad, and really thank you Michael, Matthew, Rebecca, and Mr. and Mrs. Negro for really makin' a good day a great day. Second, I'd just like to make sure anyone reading this realizes that, every once in a blue moon, i do have a good day, which this and the last post can attest to. So not everything is terrible here.
-Will
"I'm not a big fat panda. I'm the big fat panda."
Somewhere along the line, my (brilliant) parents came up with a special day and dubbed it "America day." I didn't even name it, they did. Mom and pop came up with that. I know, it sounds like a name I'd give it. But moving on, school was the same. So that didn't change. But then, there's always after school. I think that's when the red, white, and blue started to kick in.
So, as you may or may not know, there's no concert band at DA. Me and a friend and a teacher (both trumpet players, I'm on T-bone) decided to remedy this by forming a rag-tag pep band to play at basketball games and such. I'm proud to announce that Wednesday, Day of America, was the bands inaugural performance at a varsity basketball game.
Now that you're done clapping and "huzzah"ing, I can say that it went very well, and we received many comments and look forward to a great many moons of gracing otherwise DA dull sporting events with our presence. But hey, it was band! That's pretty darn American. We did invent trombones after all. And yes, I know we didn't really invent trombones. But you better believe we perfected them.
So then we got home, and waiting for us were a tray of delicious french fries and chicken nuggets. Normal, right? Incorrect! You know all those animals they think are extinct but then they find some like 20 years later in some random forest they'd never think to look in? Chicken nuggets are like that here. So, what was normal in America becomes an exquisite dining experience in Senegal. I can't even imagine what'd I have to say about having root beer regularly. It boggles the mind, huh?
And, as if chicken nuggets and band wasn't enough, the sundae was topped with a cake. A delicious, sci-fi cake. We got a package from our friends the Negros (that's their last name) containing all kinds of pure awesome. And when I say awesome, I mean Iron Man, Independance Day, and I,Robot DVDs. That's what I'm talking about.
But I'm really trying to say two things. First, thank you to Mom and Dad, and really thank you Michael, Matthew, Rebecca, and Mr. and Mrs. Negro for really makin' a good day a great day. Second, I'd just like to make sure anyone reading this realizes that, every once in a blue moon, i do have a good day, which this and the last post can attest to. So not everything is terrible here.
-Will
"I'm not a big fat panda. I'm the big fat panda."
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Snap into a...
SLIM JIM.
Shown above: Utter. Bliss.
Today we returned home after a long day of school and found not one, not two, or even three, but SEVEN packages waiting for us to open. 10 minutes, one pair of scissors, and 3 dropped jaws later, we found ourselves in the midst of a great sea of beef jerky, gum, and candy.
That was a few days ago, and it's taken me this long to be able to type out coherent words to aptly describe my appreciation and excitement. The shock was intense, and the taste of Slim Jims were intenser. To cousins Sarah, Kate, and Grandma, thank you SO MUCH for everything. The whole Martin family is in your debt, if you ever need gum and slim jims to keep you going in a foreign country deprived of such things, you let us know.
:D
-Will
"Don't gamble your dictionaries!"
P.S. As a completely irrelevant-to-the-post surprise, I found these pictures on the same memory card as the ones above.
We're halfway there.
Here lie the ruins of a once-great hair civilization.
You were a good man, hair.
Shown above: Utter. Bliss.Today we returned home after a long day of school and found not one, not two, or even three, but SEVEN packages waiting for us to open. 10 minutes, one pair of scissors, and 3 dropped jaws later, we found ourselves in the midst of a great sea of beef jerky, gum, and candy.
That was a few days ago, and it's taken me this long to be able to type out coherent words to aptly describe my appreciation and excitement. The shock was intense, and the taste of Slim Jims were intenser. To cousins Sarah, Kate, and Grandma, thank you SO MUCH for everything. The whole Martin family is in your debt, if you ever need gum and slim jims to keep you going in a foreign country deprived of such things, you let us know.
:D
-Will
"Don't gamble your dictionaries!"
P.S. As a completely irrelevant-to-the-post surprise, I found these pictures on the same memory card as the ones above.
We're halfway there.
Here lie the ruins of a once-great hair civilization.You were a good man, hair.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
This is Halloween
Being such a fan of the holiday (bet you couldn't tell), I would be remiss to not write a little something in dedication to the wonderful day of every year that is Halloween. And since I'm going to a retreat tomorrow for the whole weekend (you'll probably hear about that), I'll type to you on Halloween Eve. Or, Hallow's Eve Eve.
I love Halloween. I love the pumpkin carving, the movies, trick or treating, dressing up, the candy, even the weather. Who can say no to going out as the Phantom of the Opera on a crisp fall New England night with your best friends, knocking on doors, and asking for candy? I really can't understand the hatred surrounding it here. I mean, sure, you might not think its origins are of the most savory nature, I get that. But I just want to have fun with my buds, enjoy a smorgasbord of sweets, and then watch scary movies until the sugar highs pass and we all collapse from exhaustion. I don't want to go outside and dress like a demon and prance around all night.
It just frustrates me, that's all. The kids growing up here are just kinda trained to hate it, and I wish that for once they could just like have a Halloween party at school so people could realize that it just might not be the most heathen thing to do on a Friday night.
But, no matter what anyone says, I will still wake up to my The Nightmare Before Christmas alarm clock, I will still wear orange, black tomorrow, I will still eat my horded American M&M's, I will still drink energy drinks, and I will still watch "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown", "The Nightmare Before Christmas", Beetlejuice", "Ghostbusters", and "Cloverfield" in one sitting. If, by next year, I do anything less to celebrate, please, by all means, slap me across the face. But, in 2008, it's gonna be a good Halloween indeed.
-Will
P.S.- HAPPY HALLOWEEN!
"There's children throwing snowballs, instead of throwing heads. They're busy making toys and absolutely no one's dead!"
I love Halloween. I love the pumpkin carving, the movies, trick or treating, dressing up, the candy, even the weather. Who can say no to going out as the Phantom of the Opera on a crisp fall New England night with your best friends, knocking on doors, and asking for candy? I really can't understand the hatred surrounding it here. I mean, sure, you might not think its origins are of the most savory nature, I get that. But I just want to have fun with my buds, enjoy a smorgasbord of sweets, and then watch scary movies until the sugar highs pass and we all collapse from exhaustion. I don't want to go outside and dress like a demon and prance around all night.
It just frustrates me, that's all. The kids growing up here are just kinda trained to hate it, and I wish that for once they could just like have a Halloween party at school so people could realize that it just might not be the most heathen thing to do on a Friday night.
But, no matter what anyone says, I will still wake up to my The Nightmare Before Christmas alarm clock, I will still wear orange, black tomorrow, I will still eat my horded American M&M's, I will still drink energy drinks, and I will still watch "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown", "The Nightmare Before Christmas", Beetlejuice", "Ghostbusters", and "Cloverfield" in one sitting. If, by next year, I do anything less to celebrate, please, by all means, slap me across the face. But, in 2008, it's gonna be a good Halloween indeed.
-Will
P.S.- HAPPY HALLOWEEN!
"There's children throwing snowballs, instead of throwing heads. They're busy making toys and absolutely no one's dead!"
Friday, October 24, 2008
Poutine, Buses, and Rugby: or, Some final thoughts on Quebec
Something has struck me recently, while I was exploring facebook in all of its majesty. I have more facebook friends from Quebec than I do from Massachusetts. Quite a bit more, actually. While trying to grasp this new and strange fact, I had yet another eureka moment. I miss Quebec.
I know, most of you sit reading this with a dropped jaw and coffee spilling out of it this very moment. Surely for all my whining and complaining of the place, I would say "good riddance" and wash my hands of it forever. But, looking back, the bad parts kind of fade away, in comparison to the much more memorable good parts. While, in reality, they might have been few and far between, it's hard to look back on a place and remember all the monotonous days in between. For every 30 average days with nothing to do at night, there might be one fun class, great rugby game, or entertaining night out that covers it and makes it look better. I could go into great detail about the best of times and the worst of times, but you have much better things to do.
But, really, isn't that just what happens everywhere? "The grass is always greener..."- you know the rest. Until about February, I couldn't stand the place, but by the end, I would be lying if I said I wasn't very sad to leave. I made some great friends and countless acquaintances in my short 10 months there. The last day of school nearly had me in tears, and it was weird, this year, to think that another year of school is starting there, just like before. Now, I wouldn't choose it over Franklin, but compared to here? You'd better believe I'd pick the same American-hating, poutine-eating province I've ridiculed time and time again. It had root beer, TV, decent internet speeds, multiple gaming stores, and 3 malls within 15 minute driving distance. What was I complaining about?!
But really, its pretty much the same as here. I get there, I hate it, I hate it a little less, I make some friends, and Bam! Before you know it, I'm missing it after just 10 months. It'll be just like that here, right? That's what I keep telling myself.
-Will
"I believe it's just a rare, psychological phenomenon"
I know, most of you sit reading this with a dropped jaw and coffee spilling out of it this very moment. Surely for all my whining and complaining of the place, I would say "good riddance" and wash my hands of it forever. But, looking back, the bad parts kind of fade away, in comparison to the much more memorable good parts. While, in reality, they might have been few and far between, it's hard to look back on a place and remember all the monotonous days in between. For every 30 average days with nothing to do at night, there might be one fun class, great rugby game, or entertaining night out that covers it and makes it look better. I could go into great detail about the best of times and the worst of times, but you have much better things to do.
But, really, isn't that just what happens everywhere? "The grass is always greener..."- you know the rest. Until about February, I couldn't stand the place, but by the end, I would be lying if I said I wasn't very sad to leave. I made some great friends and countless acquaintances in my short 10 months there. The last day of school nearly had me in tears, and it was weird, this year, to think that another year of school is starting there, just like before. Now, I wouldn't choose it over Franklin, but compared to here? You'd better believe I'd pick the same American-hating, poutine-eating province I've ridiculed time and time again. It had root beer, TV, decent internet speeds, multiple gaming stores, and 3 malls within 15 minute driving distance. What was I complaining about?!
But really, its pretty much the same as here. I get there, I hate it, I hate it a little less, I make some friends, and Bam! Before you know it, I'm missing it after just 10 months. It'll be just like that here, right? That's what I keep telling myself.
-Will
"I believe it's just a rare, psychological phenomenon"
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Assimilation
There's this strange air about DA, and it's not just the smog that permeates the city regularly. It's the kind of thing that, the second I step past the large, grey metal gates just seems to hang over the campus like a looming raincloud. I can't quite put a finger on it, but I can say that I don't like it at all. It's this kind of everyone's-the-same-and-its-only-a-matter-of-time type of feeling that chokes and suffocates every seemingly entertaining experience I have at the place. I won't even try to describe how the same everybody seems, but what really really gets me is the fact that everyone around me seems to believe that it's just a matter of time until I become a token missionary kid, who says they're from America but has only been there twice in their life. Who believes Halloween is the most heathen thing to come out of Ireland since leprechauns. Who owns more than 5 different shirts from various events at their own school. Who loves soccer. Who plays soccer. Who thinks that softball is "mostly a guy sport." Etc.,etc.,etc.
Even my own parents kind of think I've somehow grown out of Halloween, as if the fact that we live on the other side of the world now means that I'll give up one of my favorite holidays that I've been avidly celebrating for over a decade. That's a long time! Name a website that's over a decade old. I've loved dressing up as a superhero and reaping the rewards of the yearly candy rounds just as much, if not more, than the next guy, so now that we've moved I'm just going to stop?
And as I was reminiscing aloud about New England falls one day, a hobby of mine, someone sitting next to me asked if I was homesick. "Well, yeah" fell out of my mouth, mainly because I was too momentarily taken aback over the dumbest question ever asked of me to come up with a witty remark like the ones I regularly spew. His response, paraphrased of course, was basically that I had to forget about Massachusetts and started thinking Africa thoughts. "You're living here, but you're not really living here," was a remark I personally found very... ironic, if that's the right word.
Because, to me, it sure as heck doesn't feel like I'm still living in Franklin.
-Will
"As a kid, Halloween was amazing. You dress like a superhero, you bang on your neighbors' door, and they give you candy. I do that today and my neighbor wants me arrested."
Even my own parents kind of think I've somehow grown out of Halloween, as if the fact that we live on the other side of the world now means that I'll give up one of my favorite holidays that I've been avidly celebrating for over a decade. That's a long time! Name a website that's over a decade old. I've loved dressing up as a superhero and reaping the rewards of the yearly candy rounds just as much, if not more, than the next guy, so now that we've moved I'm just going to stop?
And as I was reminiscing aloud about New England falls one day, a hobby of mine, someone sitting next to me asked if I was homesick. "Well, yeah" fell out of my mouth, mainly because I was too momentarily taken aback over the dumbest question ever asked of me to come up with a witty remark like the ones I regularly spew. His response, paraphrased of course, was basically that I had to forget about Massachusetts and started thinking Africa thoughts. "You're living here, but you're not really living here," was a remark I personally found very... ironic, if that's the right word.
Because, to me, it sure as heck doesn't feel like I'm still living in Franklin.
-Will
"As a kid, Halloween was amazing. You dress like a superhero, you bang on your neighbors' door, and they give you candy. I do that today and my neighbor wants me arrested."
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Zoom Zoom Zoom
Here I am typing away, and the last post was what, 2 days ago? But it's not every night you have 2 siblings sleeping, 2 parents gone, Fanta in your cup, and homework to put off until tomorrow! How I spoil you.
Well, before I go any further, this did not look like it was going to be a good day. I had to wake up at the crack of dawn (that's "crack of dawn" Will time-known to the layperson as 7:30) in order to do a practice of a practice to something that's important. The PSAT. Going strictly against my "only go to school during school hours-or less" rule, I did get up in the wee hours of the morning and drag myself to school. After an agonizing and excruciating 3 hours, I got up from my chair and walked home. It was actually really easy. But that doesn't make for a good story now, does it?
I'd like to take this time to pay homage to the letter E. I have had a love-hate relationship with the little feller since about, say, 8:15 this morning. It's a good-lookin' letter no doubt, and one of the most often used in our language, yet as I opened my test booklet this morning, I was suprised to see a lot more E's than I wanted to. He was at the end of every A B C D option! But, after the initial flood of hatred of the letter's ability to make each question that much harder, I found myself rooting for the poor thing. He's obviously new in town, why not give him a warm welcome? I'd like everyone reading this to stand up and give a hearty shout of "E!" for all around you to hear.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, the now E-xhausted (see what I did there??) me has a stomach growling with the intensity of 713 enraged Steve Carells. And dad, saving the day, suggests we go out to eat. Oh, and one other little thing afterwardGO KARTING. I have loved go karting, in my 3 time experience with the activity, and I'd heard good things about the karting joint (what do you call a go karting place?) in Dakar. So, me, dad, Caleb, and a tired from a sleepless night at school Sam head on over to Caesar's for some grub. After several experiences with Dakar eaterys, I've come to a conclusion about Quebec french to Dakar french phrases. "Sans sauce", which means no sauce in Quebec, apparently mean "please put a lot of any kind of sauce on my food and lather it on so it's impossible to get it off of anything on my plate." Make a mental note of that, who knows when it might pop up in a trivia game?
So after my skimpy on chicken-but full on flavor! chicken burger, we drove over to "Karting!" It's a bit pricey, but once I sat in that 2 foot tall car-thing, I knew it was going to be worth every penny of the money that wasn't mine. We took off, and I was lapping the rest of the 3 people on the track in no time. The karts were fast, the windwas flowing through my recently neutered hair, and the drifting was aplenty, and after 2 more sessions, it was time to head home. The place was awesome, I'd give it an A+, there was even a guy who sort of spoke english!!
So, to recap, it was a good day. And now, I get to tackle the monstrous task of rganizing my iTunes library. A fall cleaning, if you will. And I will.
-Will
P.S.- 1000 Will points to anyone who actually stood up and shouted "E". Redeemable at Will stores across the country.
P.S.S.- Dad went on a bit of a killing spree last night and valiantly took down 2 cockroaches, bringing the total to 13!! Way to help the cause, dad!
"A tub birth? That sounds like the tide at Omaha Beach."
Well, before I go any further, this did not look like it was going to be a good day. I had to wake up at the crack of dawn (that's "crack of dawn" Will time-known to the layperson as 7:30) in order to do a practice of a practice to something that's important. The PSAT. Going strictly against my "only go to school during school hours-or less" rule, I did get up in the wee hours of the morning and drag myself to school. After an agonizing and excruciating 3 hours, I got up from my chair and walked home. It was actually really easy. But that doesn't make for a good story now, does it?
I'd like to take this time to pay homage to the letter E. I have had a love-hate relationship with the little feller since about, say, 8:15 this morning. It's a good-lookin' letter no doubt, and one of the most often used in our language, yet as I opened my test booklet this morning, I was suprised to see a lot more E's than I wanted to. He was at the end of every A B C D option! But, after the initial flood of hatred of the letter's ability to make each question that much harder, I found myself rooting for the poor thing. He's obviously new in town, why not give him a warm welcome? I'd like everyone reading this to stand up and give a hearty shout of "E!" for all around you to hear.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, the now E-xhausted (see what I did there??) me has a stomach growling with the intensity of 713 enraged Steve Carells. And dad, saving the day, suggests we go out to eat. Oh, and one other little thing afterwardGO KARTING. I have loved go karting, in my 3 time experience with the activity, and I'd heard good things about the karting joint (what do you call a go karting place?) in Dakar. So, me, dad, Caleb, and a tired from a sleepless night at school Sam head on over to Caesar's for some grub. After several experiences with Dakar eaterys, I've come to a conclusion about Quebec french to Dakar french phrases. "Sans sauce", which means no sauce in Quebec, apparently mean "please put a lot of any kind of sauce on my food and lather it on so it's impossible to get it off of anything on my plate." Make a mental note of that, who knows when it might pop up in a trivia game?
So after my skimpy on chicken-but full on flavor! chicken burger, we drove over to "Karting!" It's a bit pricey, but once I sat in that 2 foot tall car-thing, I knew it was going to be worth every penny of the money that wasn't mine. We took off, and I was lapping the rest of the 3 people on the track in no time. The karts were fast, the windwas flowing through my recently neutered hair, and the drifting was aplenty, and after 2 more sessions, it was time to head home. The place was awesome, I'd give it an A+, there was even a guy who sort of spoke english!!
So, to recap, it was a good day. And now, I get to tackle the monstrous task of rganizing my iTunes library. A fall cleaning, if you will. And I will.
-Will
P.S.- 1000 Will points to anyone who actually stood up and shouted "E". Redeemable at Will stores across the country.
P.S.S.- Dad went on a bit of a killing spree last night and valiantly took down 2 cockroaches, bringing the total to 13!! Way to help the cause, dad!
"A tub birth? That sounds like the tide at Omaha Beach."
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Out the Door
Usually, I think a story I hear about is really cool, then think about blogging about it for a week or so, and then forget about it (apparently most of my stories aren't worthy enough for the internet. But, against said tradition, I'll take a break from my World of Goo playing and type this latest shenanigan down. I wasn't actually here during any of this-I got a first- and second-hand account.
So, after me, Dad, and the other kids leave to go to school at about 7:50. Mom's at the computer, doin' whatever Moms do on the computer, I guess, and she hears a noise at the door. Thinking its one of our housekeepers, she calls their name. When she doesn't hear a response, she goes out and sees who's there. Looking through the peephole, she see's an African guy, Holding the door shut, with another dude shoving our laptop into his backpack. From now on, guy with laptop= Sly Cooper, and guy holding door= Danny Ocean. As soon as Sly's got it in, they decide to run. Why they both run, and Sly doesn't get halfway down the street (path of sand) before Danny lets mom out is beyond me. If they had watched Ocean's Eleven they would have realized that this was not a good plan.
But off they go. Now here's the part that's kind of awesome. My mom isn't a runner. But kenyans beat us in the Boston marathon on our own turf. Year after year. Now mom says they weren't running that fast, but I'm convinced shes being humble and is actually the daughter of the Flash and hasn't told me yet. She catches up to them and rips Coopie's backpack off. Looting through it, she pulls out our laptop, his backpack still in hand.
Now I'm sure she's pretty ticked off at this point, so she starts yelling the french word "vol" at them. What she meant was "voleur". Voleur mean "thief". Vol, on the other hand, means flight. Again, she said it was an accident, but I'm pretty sure yelling "vol" in french translates to: "GET OUT THE WAY." Meanwhile, our guard sleeps soundly behind a garage door 5 feet away. THANKS MAN. Someone ain't getting a tip this month. Mom also kept the guy's backpack. I might throw it on eBay.
So what's the moral of the story? Steal mom's stuff, she be takin you down. And you can forget about leaving with as much stuff as you came with.
- Will
Author's note: this was actually posted a day after it happened, I couldn't finish in time yesterday night. I'm also happy to annouce the cockroach kill count is now at 11, after I splattered the one that crawled out of the sink as I was brushing my teeth.
"But with Benedict... at the end of this, he'd better not know you're involved, not know your names or think you're dead because he'll kill ya, and then he'll go to work on ya."
So, after me, Dad, and the other kids leave to go to school at about 7:50. Mom's at the computer, doin' whatever Moms do on the computer, I guess, and she hears a noise at the door. Thinking its one of our housekeepers, she calls their name. When she doesn't hear a response, she goes out and sees who's there. Looking through the peephole, she see's an African guy, Holding the door shut, with another dude shoving our laptop into his backpack. From now on, guy with laptop= Sly Cooper, and guy holding door= Danny Ocean. As soon as Sly's got it in, they decide to run. Why they both run, and Sly doesn't get halfway down the street (path of sand) before Danny lets mom out is beyond me. If they had watched Ocean's Eleven they would have realized that this was not a good plan.
But off they go. Now here's the part that's kind of awesome. My mom isn't a runner. But kenyans beat us in the Boston marathon on our own turf. Year after year. Now mom says they weren't running that fast, but I'm convinced shes being humble and is actually the daughter of the Flash and hasn't told me yet. She catches up to them and rips Coopie's backpack off. Looting through it, she pulls out our laptop, his backpack still in hand.
Now I'm sure she's pretty ticked off at this point, so she starts yelling the french word "vol" at them. What she meant was "voleur". Voleur mean "thief". Vol, on the other hand, means flight. Again, she said it was an accident, but I'm pretty sure yelling "vol" in french translates to: "GET OUT THE WAY." Meanwhile, our guard sleeps soundly behind a garage door 5 feet away. THANKS MAN. Someone ain't getting a tip this month. Mom also kept the guy's backpack. I might throw it on eBay.
So what's the moral of the story? Steal mom's stuff, she be takin you down. And you can forget about leaving with as much stuff as you came with.
- Will
Author's note: this was actually posted a day after it happened, I couldn't finish in time yesterday night. I'm also happy to annouce the cockroach kill count is now at 11, after I splattered the one that crawled out of the sink as I was brushing my teeth.
"But with Benedict... at the end of this, he'd better not know you're involved, not know your names or think you're dead because he'll kill ya, and then he'll go to work on ya."
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Topsy Turvy
So, as of a few days ago, we’ve been in Dakar for 2 months. It sure hasn’t gone fast, but I don’t think I could say it was moving too slow, either.
Plenty of things have happened for the family, we’ve “moved in”, then settled in, got a car, started school, Anna just broke her arm, and Caleb has decided after a measly two weeks that Soccer is the superior sport to American Football. But for me, I think I haven’t really gotten past the “settling in” part. Sure, the heat seems a little less unbearable, I’m more used to the constant want of one or more good American hamburger, and the power going off constantly just seems almost a tiny bit normal. But every time I start to think anything along the lines of, “okay, maybe this place won’t suck” or, “I think I hate DA maybe a little wee bit less”, something happens that either disappoints me or pisses me off to the point of exhaustion and frustration. That’s a double -tion, if anyone’s counting.
And the biggest problem is, it’s usually something really unimportant or stupid that always sets me off in the end. Like for instance, Anna deciding to scream and cry that I’m “the worst big brother in the world” while my parents have tea and crumpets and chat with some acquaintances. It’s happened a billion times before, so I really should be used to it, yet the fact that it’s now taking place in Africa just makes it that much worse. Or someone who I have deemed a tolerable person decides to spend all of his free time during two classes explaining how the scuba diving trip that select few got to go on in biology was “so fantastic and so great and let me tell you guys how fun it was and I thought there wouldn’t be any fish but there was and it was beauuutiful and you guys had to sit in class with no power and one fan for the entire classroom creating large stains of sweat all over your t-shirts.” SHUT. UP. I am finding it hard to stand this particular person.
Or maybe it’s something that even I truly think is something worth whining about. Like the power going off at 11 p.m. and not coming on until 10 a.m. the next morning, making sleep nigh impossible and comfort a thing of the past. Such an event just gets the ball rolling for a day like today. One big thing happens, and then after having all the headlines of websites I’m visiting about the presidential candidates read out to me by a fat asian kid behind me, I become a more than a little miffed. And it just keeps happening. For two months! I thought it would stop, that I’d find someone with relative interests and not a severely over-developed pain-in-butt lobe that I might be able to connect with once in a while. That was indeed a fool’s hope.
Word to the wise; if you value your life, do not look over my shoulder when I’m on the computer. Just thought I’d let you know.
-Will
Plenty of things have happened for the family, we’ve “moved in”, then settled in, got a car, started school, Anna just broke her arm, and Caleb has decided after a measly two weeks that Soccer is the superior sport to American Football. But for me, I think I haven’t really gotten past the “settling in” part. Sure, the heat seems a little less unbearable, I’m more used to the constant want of one or more good American hamburger, and the power going off constantly just seems almost a tiny bit normal. But every time I start to think anything along the lines of, “okay, maybe this place won’t suck” or, “I think I hate DA maybe a little wee bit less”, something happens that either disappoints me or pisses me off to the point of exhaustion and frustration. That’s a double -tion, if anyone’s counting.
And the biggest problem is, it’s usually something really unimportant or stupid that always sets me off in the end. Like for instance, Anna deciding to scream and cry that I’m “the worst big brother in the world” while my parents have tea and crumpets and chat with some acquaintances. It’s happened a billion times before, so I really should be used to it, yet the fact that it’s now taking place in Africa just makes it that much worse. Or someone who I have deemed a tolerable person decides to spend all of his free time during two classes explaining how the scuba diving trip that select few got to go on in biology was “so fantastic and so great and let me tell you guys how fun it was and I thought there wouldn’t be any fish but there was and it was beauuutiful and you guys had to sit in class with no power and one fan for the entire classroom creating large stains of sweat all over your t-shirts.” SHUT. UP. I am finding it hard to stand this particular person.
Or maybe it’s something that even I truly think is something worth whining about. Like the power going off at 11 p.m. and not coming on until 10 a.m. the next morning, making sleep nigh impossible and comfort a thing of the past. Such an event just gets the ball rolling for a day like today. One big thing happens, and then after having all the headlines of websites I’m visiting about the presidential candidates read out to me by a fat asian kid behind me, I become a more than a little miffed. And it just keeps happening. For two months! I thought it would stop, that I’d find someone with relative interests and not a severely over-developed pain-in-butt lobe that I might be able to connect with once in a while. That was indeed a fool’s hope.
Word to the wise; if you value your life, do not look over my shoulder when I’m on the computer. Just thought I’d let you know.
-Will
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Pictures of the 'Frika House
I cannot even describe how annoying it is to format this amount of pictures in a single post. This is a job for...ME, cause no one else is here to do it. I'm always open to suggestions and requests for posts, and even through a bout of sore throat I have used this sick day to present you with pictures of the apartment. Also, count the pictures as a celebration of both the 200th site hit and the one month anniversary of the move. Enjoy-
This is literally an entire section of the house I've never been to since we got here a month ago. Our 2nd largest balcony, it's even got a kitchen! (Shown above in its entirety)
We went to the "Altlantic Club" (American Club) on Sunday and I can't describe accurately the joy that in brought within a space that could be classified as a "caption." 3 words- American Double Cheeseburger. And, as if the happiness flowed from the facility, they also had 2 ice cold A&W root beers, which I am convinced are the only ones in all of Dakar, Senegal. They're names are Dave and Buster, and I will treat them like I would my childrens. Until I thirst and rip open their scalps and drink their life essence. And there will be much rejoicing.
You got the Root Beer! Set it to Y, X, or Z to use.
But when the sun sets, it becomes a very beautiful place. Maybe I'll like it here after all...
This is our neighbors' death roof. Watch out for spikes!!
This is the amount of dust that collected on the ping pong table in about 4 days. And you thought Charter was bad, Mr. Boday
This is the upstairs, with the evil spiral staircase, 2 dirt view (the opposite of ocean view) balconies, and our favorite ping pong table.
This is looking out our largest balcony, down the street is Provigo, and past the rotary, DA (Dude Assassinators)
This is literally an entire section of the house I've never been to since we got here a month ago. Our 2nd largest balcony, it's even got a kitchen! (Shown above in its entirety) The play area. Where our Wii proudly reigns and video games are played prosperously.
This is the parentaql units's room, otherwise known as the Sporoom (thats Spore and Room combined). It is also one of two rooms in the house with window air conditioning units, so it's usually where everyone is.
This is a part of my room. The Guitar Hero 3 sleeve, my Nightmare Before Christmas clock, and my DS all reside here in perfect harmony. Perfect, dusty harmony. You can also see a bit of the mosquito net on the right side, and marvel at the vintage Grateful Dead Lithuanian basketball t-shirt, gifted to me by Mr. Callahan. *sniffs* It hangs proudly.
We went to the "Altlantic Club" (American Club) on Sunday and I can't describe accurately the joy that in brought within a space that could be classified as a "caption." 3 words- American Double Cheeseburger. And, as if the happiness flowed from the facility, they also had 2 ice cold A&W root beers, which I am convinced are the only ones in all of Dakar, Senegal. They're names are Dave and Buster, and I will treat them like I would my childrens. Until I thirst and rip open their scalps and drink their life essence. And there will be much rejoicing.You got the Root Beer! Set it to Y, X, or Z to use.But when the sun sets, it becomes a very beautiful place. Maybe I'll like it here after all...
Sometimes I crack myself up.
-Will
"If you do this I will eat your face!"
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Rant Time
Now, before I say anything in this post,I want to establish the fact that it's about the music, not the religion. Carrying on...
This is one of my major beefs with DA (for those of you who don't know, the Deffocation Association). The music. Now I can't say that everyone in the school listens to the exact same music, because I haven't met and searched the iPods of everyone in the school. But, I think I can make the assumption that a large majority of the school listens to: Christian rock. Now, here's the problem. I don't mind a couple bands, some of their music has even found its way onto my iPod, as Aunt Wendy and Uncle Pat can attest to. But the fact of the matter is that 60 percent of the entire christian music industry is bands covering popular hymns and songs. This is like if a little more than half of the bands you know did nothing but play Beatles and Zeppelin covers. If that was the case, then the music industry as we know it would be no more. Yet somehow, in this place and others like it, people purchase entire CDs without a single original song on 'em.
For instance, at the handball game-the rule is that the only music coming out of the speakers is christian. Again, not my preference, but not a problem. But actually, now that I think about it, that was the problem. Because, as you may know, there are three genres of that music. Basic rock, rap, and traditional. And apparently the sound guy/DJ wasn't a fan of Amazing Grace or anything like it, so we got a mixture of rap and half-rock for the whole evening. I heard the song "Indescribable" in 3 different forms. A decent song, in its original format, but I don't really like rap of any kind, let alone the kind with lyrics intended to be sung by a worship team.
And then again, in "Art Basics", the most useless class ever dreamed of. Instead of the usual Jack Johnson, which I always welcome with open ears, she decided to pop in a mix CD, with all our favorite songs we've heard 200 times. "Now sung by different people with slightly different pitches!!"
-Will
"You know Bruce Lee's not really dead, don't you? Yeah, it's in a book. What he did was he faked his own death so that he could work undercover for the Hong Kong police, inflitrating drugs gangs and the Triads. "
This is one of my major beefs with DA (for those of you who don't know, the Deffocation Association). The music. Now I can't say that everyone in the school listens to the exact same music, because I haven't met and searched the iPods of everyone in the school. But, I think I can make the assumption that a large majority of the school listens to: Christian rock. Now, here's the problem. I don't mind a couple bands, some of their music has even found its way onto my iPod, as Aunt Wendy and Uncle Pat can attest to. But the fact of the matter is that 60 percent of the entire christian music industry is bands covering popular hymns and songs. This is like if a little more than half of the bands you know did nothing but play Beatles and Zeppelin covers. If that was the case, then the music industry as we know it would be no more. Yet somehow, in this place and others like it, people purchase entire CDs without a single original song on 'em.
For instance, at the handball game-the rule is that the only music coming out of the speakers is christian. Again, not my preference, but not a problem. But actually, now that I think about it, that was the problem. Because, as you may know, there are three genres of that music. Basic rock, rap, and traditional. And apparently the sound guy/DJ wasn't a fan of Amazing Grace or anything like it, so we got a mixture of rap and half-rock for the whole evening. I heard the song "Indescribable" in 3 different forms. A decent song, in its original format, but I don't really like rap of any kind, let alone the kind with lyrics intended to be sung by a worship team.
And then again, in "Art Basics", the most useless class ever dreamed of. Instead of the usual Jack Johnson, which I always welcome with open ears, she decided to pop in a mix CD, with all our favorite songs we've heard 200 times. "Now sung by different people with slightly different pitches!!"
-Will
"You know Bruce Lee's not really dead, don't you? Yeah, it's in a book. What he did was he faked his own death so that he could work undercover for the Hong Kong police, inflitrating drugs gangs and the Triads. "
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
L'Escale de Maristes- A Restaurant Review
As I stepped into the dinery that is L'Escale de Maristes, I took a moment to breathe air that didn't smell like manure. When I opened my eyes, I had the sense of being at a friendly home, maybe about to feast on one of grandmothers' special dishes. This is probably because I was, in fact, in a house. But before I get ahead of myself, let me explain, to those of you who don't speak french, what the meaning of the name is. I have been led to believe that "escale" means "layover," and the sector of Dakar the restaurant and our apartment shares is called Hann Maristes. So this was essentially "The Layover of Where we Are Right Now"
Now, after the overwhelming feeling that I was breaking into someone's house passed, I took the chance to sit at one of the establishments marvelous plastic lawn chairs, of which there were about 15. This presented a bit of a problem, as I was in a group of 20, but if the Senegalese know anything, it's how to pack large quantities of people into small spaces. I next got the feel of the temperature, which had changed from outsides' blistering heat to a much more stagnant blistering heat.
This was about the time when our waitress, whose name I cannot spell or pronounce, came to take our orders. Chicken or Fish. As usual, it took me a while to decide what I'd choose, there were just so many good options. After much debating, I decided to be a little daring and choose the fish, expecting a small fillet with maybe a dab of seasoning or, dare I hope, barbeque sauce. I suppose I've never really gotten fish at a restaurant that is not called Long John Silver's, but I'm quite sure that it was not served like this.
But again, I'm getting ahead of myself. after I ordered the fish and exchanged pleasantries with several other diners, I realized a TV was sitting right next to me. As a turned it on I was greeted pleasantly by a video of a waterfall while several men shouted different things at the same time. In arabic. "Good," I thought, "my stories are on." I now realize the reason behind the name, for two hours and no food later, it was a whole lot like a layover.
But the food finally came, and I sort of figured out how to get the meat put of an entire fish, before loosing my appetite to the fish's lonely, black eyes. But, it was kinda of tasty, especially the parts without bones in them, and they even had a variation of ketchup to go with my side of the greasy potatoes they called "french fries." Overall, I'd give it a solid 2 stars, and would recommend another fan and a maximum occupancy of more than 17.
How I wish I had picked the chicken.
-Will
"In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read."
Now, after the overwhelming feeling that I was breaking into someone's house passed, I took the chance to sit at one of the establishments marvelous plastic lawn chairs, of which there were about 15. This presented a bit of a problem, as I was in a group of 20, but if the Senegalese know anything, it's how to pack large quantities of people into small spaces. I next got the feel of the temperature, which had changed from outsides' blistering heat to a much more stagnant blistering heat.
This was about the time when our waitress, whose name I cannot spell or pronounce, came to take our orders. Chicken or Fish. As usual, it took me a while to decide what I'd choose, there were just so many good options. After much debating, I decided to be a little daring and choose the fish, expecting a small fillet with maybe a dab of seasoning or, dare I hope, barbeque sauce. I suppose I've never really gotten fish at a restaurant that is not called Long John Silver's, but I'm quite sure that it was not served like this.
But again, I'm getting ahead of myself. after I ordered the fish and exchanged pleasantries with several other diners, I realized a TV was sitting right next to me. As a turned it on I was greeted pleasantly by a video of a waterfall while several men shouted different things at the same time. In arabic. "Good," I thought, "my stories are on." I now realize the reason behind the name, for two hours and no food later, it was a whole lot like a layover.
But the food finally came, and I sort of figured out how to get the meat put of an entire fish, before loosing my appetite to the fish's lonely, black eyes. But, it was kinda of tasty, especially the parts without bones in them, and they even had a variation of ketchup to go with my side of the greasy potatoes they called "french fries." Overall, I'd give it a solid 2 stars, and would recommend another fan and a maximum occupancy of more than 17.
How I wish I had picked the chicken.
-Will
"In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read."
Friday, August 29, 2008
Sunday, August 24, 2008
A Bug's Life
Ants, gnats, ladybugs, praying manti, flies. They're all very annoying, yet none capture the essence of the word "bug" like roaches do. I don't know how big they are in other places, but I have seen cockroaches that have nearly made me scream like a little girl. Emphasis on nearly. They're fast, huge, good at hiding, and darn hard to kill with anything lighter than a cinder block. Seemingly everywhere at once in the house, the devil mites are one of my least favorite things here (The list grows longer every day). I haven't seen any at the Academy, only at the place I'm living, in my closet, the walls, the bathroom, etc. Now I feel I can sympathize (if only somewhat) with anyone who has ever lived in an apartment in New York City. In short, i really really really really hate cockroaches.
Moving on, I have found that music has really kept me going these past few days. Soutout thanks to Tim, for giving me an inconceivable amount of new music to help me get to sleep when we have no power. You try to get to sleep in this humidity without John, Paul, George, and Ringo singing you to dreamland. And I'm serious this time; try it. It's not easy. School keeps going, youth group was really not good. And thats my week!! I'm going to try to update it every week, but if I'm not super inspired all the time, then that rpobably won't happen. So it probably won't happen. When something interesting happens, I'll post it, and if something uninteresting happens and I have something clever to say about it, then I'll post it as well. Now I'm gonna go see if I can bust through the rest of Wind Waker before the night is over. Happy Sunday to you all,
-Will
"You listen to me, my boy. I've made a living out of being a failure, and you, sir, are not a failure."
Moving on, I have found that music has really kept me going these past few days. Soutout thanks to Tim, for giving me an inconceivable amount of new music to help me get to sleep when we have no power. You try to get to sleep in this humidity without John, Paul, George, and Ringo singing you to dreamland. And I'm serious this time; try it. It's not easy. School keeps going, youth group was really not good. And thats my week!! I'm going to try to update it every week, but if I'm not super inspired all the time, then that rpobably won't happen. So it probably won't happen. When something interesting happens, I'll post it, and if something uninteresting happens and I have something clever to say about it, then I'll post it as well. Now I'm gonna go see if I can bust through the rest of Wind Waker before the night is over. Happy Sunday to you all,
-Will
"You listen to me, my boy. I've made a living out of being a failure, and you, sir, are not a failure."
Saturday, August 16, 2008
...phew. I type you after a long, long day. I slept in, went to the beach, had all three meals, and still managed to find time for a 7 hour Zelda-thon. 'Twas a good day.
You know, I've never been much of a beachgoer. In fact, I've gone as far as saying I hate beaches. Theres always a lot of sand, it's hot, the waters gross looking and tasting, sharks scare the crap out of me, etc. It's always been in Maine or Cape Cod (where there are the added bonus of rocks...) and I never could understand how people I knew from California and Florida, and, you know, all my Jamaican friends, seemed to love the beach. That's why they love summer. It's hot and you could go to the beach every day. But now, in the land of 65 percent constant humidity, I begin to realize the fascination that some possess with beaches. It's awesome! There's waves, you can boogie board, or if you're more like me, lay down a towel, plop yourself down, and get engrossed in a good book while building a tan that would make David Hasslehoff proud. And no, I've never gotten a tan. Or read a book at the beach. Maybe my favorite part of the beach is that its not school!
And, now for the news of the day. (It's my blog, I can make stuff up all I want. When you have one, you'll understand)
"Hey, have you given up? We don't mean just depressed. We're talking to those of you who are ready take the precious gift that each day of life is, attempt to put it back in its clamshell packaging and return it for store credit. Then you might just be ready to take on the Pandemonium Warden, a newly added Final Fantasy XI boss that guild Beyond the Limitation plugged away at for 18 hours before finally giving up the fight. They estimate that with 5 or 6 more hours of work they could have finished the job. "People were passing out and getting physically ill," guild leaders said. "We decided to end it before we risked turning into a horrible new story about how video games ruin people's lives." So, to recap: There's a boss in Final Fantasy XI that's so tough that people who play Final Fantasy XI enough to be in a guild don't think it's worth their time. Moreover, he was so difficult it was enough to force them to start making responsible choices with their lives. Mother Brain, you can consider yourself trumped. -- Justin McElroy, Joystiq" (taken from Kombo.com)
18 hours. Plus 6. equals 24 hours. I don't know how many people can even fathom that. I just played Wind Waker for 7 hours (with dinner and two bathroom breaks) and I'm exhausted. That's and entire day. Not only just playing a video game, but doing the same thing, in a video game. I'm going to go hit the hay while those of you who still have 2 hours of daylight ahead of you let that sink fully and completely in. Stay super-duper, internets.
-Will
"I would just like to establish the fact that I am a purple person"
You know, I've never been much of a beachgoer. In fact, I've gone as far as saying I hate beaches. Theres always a lot of sand, it's hot, the waters gross looking and tasting, sharks scare the crap out of me, etc. It's always been in Maine or Cape Cod (where there are the added bonus of rocks...) and I never could understand how people I knew from California and Florida, and, you know, all my Jamaican friends, seemed to love the beach. That's why they love summer. It's hot and you could go to the beach every day. But now, in the land of 65 percent constant humidity, I begin to realize the fascination that some possess with beaches. It's awesome! There's waves, you can boogie board, or if you're more like me, lay down a towel, plop yourself down, and get engrossed in a good book while building a tan that would make David Hasslehoff proud. And no, I've never gotten a tan. Or read a book at the beach. Maybe my favorite part of the beach is that its not school!
And, now for the news of the day. (It's my blog, I can make stuff up all I want. When you have one, you'll understand)
"Hey, have you given up? We don't mean just depressed. We're talking to those of you who are ready take the precious gift that each day of life is, attempt to put it back in its clamshell packaging and return it for store credit. Then you might just be ready to take on the Pandemonium Warden, a newly added Final Fantasy XI boss that guild Beyond the Limitation plugged away at for 18 hours before finally giving up the fight. They estimate that with 5 or 6 more hours of work they could have finished the job. "People were passing out and getting physically ill," guild leaders said. "We decided to end it before we risked turning into a horrible new story about how video games ruin people's lives." So, to recap: There's a boss in Final Fantasy XI that's so tough that people who play Final Fantasy XI enough to be in a guild don't think it's worth their time. Moreover, he was so difficult it was enough to force them to start making responsible choices with their lives. Mother Brain, you can consider yourself trumped. -- Justin McElroy, Joystiq" (taken from Kombo.com)
18 hours. Plus 6. equals 24 hours. I don't know how many people can even fathom that. I just played Wind Waker for 7 hours (with dinner and two bathroom breaks) and I'm exhausted. That's and entire day. Not only just playing a video game, but doing the same thing, in a video game. I'm going to go hit the hay while those of you who still have 2 hours of daylight ahead of you let that sink fully and completely in. Stay super-duper, internets.
-Will
"I would just like to establish the fact that I am a purple person"
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Do
....lalalala life goes on. I once wrote "When life gives you lemons, Miyamoto give us Zelda." To that, I give a resounding "oo-rah." I'm now at the last boss of Minish Cap, and after I beat it, then onto the middle of Wind Waker. Thank god for those games. And my iPod. Anyways...
So, first impressions of DA...besides whatI wrote/relayed yesterday? Well, let's see. The lockers are ridicuoulsy small and poorly placed. The whole place is built like a giant fortress. 10 foot tall, white washed wall surrounding it with an entire security force and bars on every window. I know theft is a big deal, but still. Everyone seems very plastic faced. I don't know if I just forgot how much I hate school, or if this is really that much worse. But even just the first two days were just so...taxing. I walk home feeling as if I just got off a few rounds of the life-sucker from The Princess Bride. I guess I'll give it a week or so before I say I hate it, but it's off to a bad start. No music class? And no, I don't count handbells as a music program. I'm really starting to realize how much I took Quebec for granted. That place was really cool and I made friends there in like 30 seconds. Here, I don't know, people are generally friendly but everyone already knows everyone else. It seems like its going to be hard to get in the loop. Anywho, I'm going to go catch up on some sleep and dream of a Dakar Gamestop branch and drinking water straight from the tap. Nighty-Night!
So, first impressions of DA...besides whatI wrote/relayed yesterday? Well, let's see. The lockers are ridicuoulsy small and poorly placed. The whole place is built like a giant fortress. 10 foot tall, white washed wall surrounding it with an entire security force and bars on every window. I know theft is a big deal, but still. Everyone seems very plastic faced. I don't know if I just forgot how much I hate school, or if this is really that much worse. But even just the first two days were just so...taxing. I walk home feeling as if I just got off a few rounds of the life-sucker from The Princess Bride. I guess I'll give it a week or so before I say I hate it, but it's off to a bad start. No music class? And no, I don't count handbells as a music program. I'm really starting to realize how much I took Quebec for granted. That place was really cool and I made friends there in like 30 seconds. Here, I don't know, people are generally friendly but everyone already knows everyone else. It seems like its going to be hard to get in the loop. Anywho, I'm going to go catch up on some sleep and dream of a Dakar Gamestop branch and drinking water straight from the tap. Nighty-Night!
-Will
"It's not my fault being the biggest and the strongest. I don't even exercise."
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
First Day of School
Sorry for the completely unoriginal title, but just a quick entry for today, seeing as I do have HOMEWORK on the first day as well as about 76 syllabi for me and my parents to sign. I just thought I'd share with you some of my personal favorite entries to the "Dakar Academy Student/Parent Handbook", some of which made me actually laugh out loud*.
Skin-tight clothing, transparent clothing, and clothing with rips or ragged edges are unacceptable.
-Pretty basic rule, not that I could see any of the stereotypical missionary kids that fill the white fortress walls to the brim wearing anything "transparent"
Undergarments must be worn and must be completely covered by outer clothing.
-No commandos in the army this year, sarge.
Pictures and logos on shirts must conform to the christian philosophy of the school.
-Must I even touch this one? Forget the ridiculousness of the actual rule, they even said the word "conform"
now I'm not done with the dress code yet, but let's check some other rules and regulations out, shall we?
Under "Public Display of Affection"
Out of common courtesy and in consideration of all residents, there will be no romantic expression of affection that would include hugging, kissing, embracing, holding hands, etc.
- Besides my general aversion to this rule, I would just like to point something out, just in case you haven't noticed. From the text,
"that would include HUGGING, kissing, EMBRACING, holding hands, etc."
I don't know if there's a special difference here, or if they've had problems with hugging (or embracing!!) in the past, but whatever the cause, I thought I'd point that out.
No dances will be sponsored by or allowed on Dakar Academy Property. Students are not to dance when they are in a group that represents Dakar Academy.
- At the West Africa track meet? NO DANCING. On campus, listenin' to tunes? NO DANCING. Just gotta boogie? find your way of of the big white prison because there is NO DANCING here.
Keep in mind this part is after the dress code. Theres a whole hierarchy of 4 step discipline plans, for both the school and individual classes. Yet:
Dress Code Violations: Incidents of serious misconduct may warrant more serious disciplinary measure; therefore progressive discipline steps may be by-passed.
And, on with the dress code:
Pajama pants are not appropriate school attire.
-I gotta hand it to em on this one, they're the only school I've been to where thats actually been in the dress code, not just "frowned upon." There goes Will's Pajama Day.
Now this one's gonna take a while to type, and, while reading (aloud), you're only allowed to breathe at the periods, and must speak as if it's just one long word.
Shorts are to be measured from the back of the knee to the crook of the thumb when the hand and thumb are held in an "L" position. This is approximately 4 inches above the knee. If one has a particularly long hand, then measure with a ruler, rather than one's hand. Shorts cannot be rolled or pulled up. Sophees brand or its equivalent are not acceptable.
- I miss the charter days when the "longer than arms laid down rule" was the norm. That up there is quite a mouthful, eh?
Spandex clothing is generally unacceptable
-Well, CRAP!
Well, turned out to be longer than expected. Just had to get those rules out there to mkae sure they're not some big prank on me. Hope you've enjoyed, I'll probably give my actual thoughts about school later. Happy interwebing!
-Will
"Going to learn, to get some knowledge!!"
-Marlin, Finding Nemo
* Please keep in mind that if you, the reader, laughs out loud during this blog post, do not give the credit to me. The parts in bold are all directly out of the handbook, so give all due credit to the Dakar Academy school administrative staff. I didn't make this stuff up.
Skin-tight clothing, transparent clothing, and clothing with rips or ragged edges are unacceptable.
-Pretty basic rule, not that I could see any of the stereotypical missionary kids that fill the white fortress walls to the brim wearing anything "transparent"
Undergarments must be worn and must be completely covered by outer clothing.
-No commandos in the army this year, sarge.
Pictures and logos on shirts must conform to the christian philosophy of the school.
-Must I even touch this one? Forget the ridiculousness of the actual rule, they even said the word "conform"
now I'm not done with the dress code yet, but let's check some other rules and regulations out, shall we?
Under "Public Display of Affection"
Out of common courtesy and in consideration of all residents, there will be no romantic expression of affection that would include hugging, kissing, embracing, holding hands, etc.
- Besides my general aversion to this rule, I would just like to point something out, just in case you haven't noticed. From the text,
"that would include HUGGING, kissing, EMBRACING, holding hands, etc."
I don't know if there's a special difference here, or if they've had problems with hugging (or embracing!!) in the past, but whatever the cause, I thought I'd point that out.
No dances will be sponsored by or allowed on Dakar Academy Property. Students are not to dance when they are in a group that represents Dakar Academy.
- At the West Africa track meet? NO DANCING. On campus, listenin' to tunes? NO DANCING. Just gotta boogie? find your way of of the big white prison because there is NO DANCING here.
Keep in mind this part is after the dress code. Theres a whole hierarchy of 4 step discipline plans, for both the school and individual classes. Yet:
Dress Code Violations: Incidents of serious misconduct may warrant more serious disciplinary measure; therefore progressive discipline steps may be by-passed.
And, on with the dress code:
Pajama pants are not appropriate school attire.
-I gotta hand it to em on this one, they're the only school I've been to where thats actually been in the dress code, not just "frowned upon." There goes Will's Pajama Day.
Now this one's gonna take a while to type, and, while reading (aloud), you're only allowed to breathe at the periods, and must speak as if it's just one long word.
Shorts are to be measured from the back of the knee to the crook of the thumb when the hand and thumb are held in an "L" position. This is approximately 4 inches above the knee. If one has a particularly long hand, then measure with a ruler, rather than one's hand. Shorts cannot be rolled or pulled up. Sophees brand or its equivalent are not acceptable.
- I miss the charter days when the "longer than arms laid down rule" was the norm. That up there is quite a mouthful, eh?
Spandex clothing is generally unacceptable
-Well, CRAP!
Well, turned out to be longer than expected. Just had to get those rules out there to mkae sure they're not some big prank on me. Hope you've enjoyed, I'll probably give my actual thoughts about school later. Happy interwebing!
-Will
"Going to learn, to get some knowledge!!"
-Marlin, Finding Nemo
* Please keep in mind that if you, the reader, laughs out loud during this blog post, do not give the credit to me. The parts in bold are all directly out of the handbook, so give all due credit to the Dakar Academy school administrative staff. I didn't make this stuff up.
Monday, August 11, 2008
Hell on Earth- Now With 100% more Soulja Boi
Just when I thought I had escaped the song that was the bane of my very existence for a few long months, it follows me halfway around the world, to the beach, from a monitor the size of the boat we took to the island.
After a nightmarish first day, things have been a little better, though not any cooler, since then. We went to the beach on...Saturday, I think, and that was actually a lot of fun. Of course, at our houses, it was another incredibly hot day, so once we got into the cool, clear water, all the worries of taking a taxi, a ferry, and a short walk in a place that barely speaks your second language, washed cleanly away. The water was beautiful, cold, and clear, which was good because black sea urchins are apparently a big problem and "they really really hurt."
After a nice day at the beach, it was time to change and jump right into ping pong. The ersatz ping pong table (two large green wooden boards on a table) is easily my favorite new feature of the house, though the gecko infestation is a close 2nd. I'm the best of me and my brothers, although Sam has beaten me a few times. We've played that more than the Wii since its been set up, and those of you reading this who know me and my brothers well should be pretty shocked by that. We'll miss it when we move into our actual place in January.
And one other thing before I go; the housemaids. Of course, growing up in southern Massachusetts, I have not ever had a maid or housewife or whatever you wanna call em. And to say that there are pros and cons to hiring one, would be a complete, overwhelming, understatement. Lets see, so I'm not allowed to walk around in my own house without being completely clothed. And, no, I don't walk around naked, you try getting business done when your own shirt is drenched with sweat! The natural reaction is to take your shirt off! And the both of em cleaned the only 2 bathrooms out of 5 with working showers right when I was trying to take one. And the traditional African dish they made for us on Friday had chicken of questionable...everything in it, along with some other unrecognizable little....things. But you bite into one of those juicy homemade burgers, in the middle of fresh, warm, homemade buns, next to your crispy homemade fries, crafted from potatoes you bought 2 hours ago, and tell me that the housemaids are a bit annoying. Didn't think so. I rest my case.
-Will
P.S.- The housemaids, by the way, are very nice ladies, and if they spoke english I'm sure we could have some engaging conversations. Don't let me paint em as bad people, I'm just not used to em yet.
"I am the gatekeeper of my own destiny, and I will have my glory day in the hot sun."
- Jack Black, Nacho Libre
After a nightmarish first day, things have been a little better, though not any cooler, since then. We went to the beach on...Saturday, I think, and that was actually a lot of fun. Of course, at our houses, it was another incredibly hot day, so once we got into the cool, clear water, all the worries of taking a taxi, a ferry, and a short walk in a place that barely speaks your second language, washed cleanly away. The water was beautiful, cold, and clear, which was good because black sea urchins are apparently a big problem and "they really really hurt."
After a nice day at the beach, it was time to change and jump right into ping pong. The ersatz ping pong table (two large green wooden boards on a table) is easily my favorite new feature of the house, though the gecko infestation is a close 2nd. I'm the best of me and my brothers, although Sam has beaten me a few times. We've played that more than the Wii since its been set up, and those of you reading this who know me and my brothers well should be pretty shocked by that. We'll miss it when we move into our actual place in January.
And one other thing before I go; the housemaids. Of course, growing up in southern Massachusetts, I have not ever had a maid or housewife or whatever you wanna call em. And to say that there are pros and cons to hiring one, would be a complete, overwhelming, understatement. Lets see, so I'm not allowed to walk around in my own house without being completely clothed. And, no, I don't walk around naked, you try getting business done when your own shirt is drenched with sweat! The natural reaction is to take your shirt off! And the both of em cleaned the only 2 bathrooms out of 5 with working showers right when I was trying to take one. And the traditional African dish they made for us on Friday had chicken of questionable...everything in it, along with some other unrecognizable little....things. But you bite into one of those juicy homemade burgers, in the middle of fresh, warm, homemade buns, next to your crispy homemade fries, crafted from potatoes you bought 2 hours ago, and tell me that the housemaids are a bit annoying. Didn't think so. I rest my case.
-Will
P.S.- The housemaids, by the way, are very nice ladies, and if they spoke english I'm sure we could have some engaging conversations. Don't let me paint em as bad people, I'm just not used to em yet.
"I am the gatekeeper of my own destiny, and I will have my glory day in the hot sun."
- Jack Black, Nacho Libre
Thursday, August 7, 2008
If I had a Nickel...
...for every freakin' time someone told me how much I was going to enjoy Africa, I would play golf with Bill Gates every Saturday afternoon. Unfortunately, this is not the case. After the best month of my entire life, we have taken our leave and flew to Africa on wednesday morning, August 6th. It's hard to believe that was just yesterday. We landed today, technically, after 20 hours of being in the airport or on a plane, and were assissted by some helpers the Adamson's had hired because of the 27 bags we had in total.
As we were walking out (6 a.m. Senegal time), there were about 30 guys waiting outside the airport to "help" with baggage. Basically a big "bleed the white men of their money" game. I was never too good at that one. I was carrying my backpack, my manpurse, and the carry-on with the Wii and many accessories in it, so basically all my most valuable items on earth were right there in my hands. So you could probably imagine that I was a little touchy when anyone came anywhere near me. But then it got really fun. I was taking up the rear for some reason unbeknownst to me, and this was about when, during the 5 minute walk to the cars, that some dude came up behind me and decided he was going to "help" with my rolling carry-on. And you'd better believe I was going to strike that man downbefore I gave him possession of one of the few things thatkept my sanity in Quebec, and as I'm pretty sure will here. After a couple minutes of trying to reply his mumbled french and incredibly broken english with my terrible french, and dad saying "no" once to him at one single point in time, the cars pulled up and we started to put our stuff in. Thanks so much for all the help, mom and dad.
Then, at 6:30 (which was 2:30 Boston time), everyone decided it was high freakin' time for some tea and biscuits. It's not like I've been hauling crap around all day, and I sure as Seth Rogen don't want to go crash at our apartment, or that I haven't slept for 24 hours. No, really, let's go have some breakfast!!!
So, finally, 3 meals, 3 power outages, 2 naps, several trips to the Adamson's, and a few e-mails later, here I am at the laptop, telling you about my first day here. Oh, and its really really hot and humid. Let's just hope we can find a voltage adapter so I can plug the Wii in and spend some quality sanity time with my favorite little white box.
-Dazed and Confused
"First impressions are often entirely...wrong"
-Lemony Snicket
As we were walking out (6 a.m. Senegal time), there were about 30 guys waiting outside the airport to "help" with baggage. Basically a big "bleed the white men of their money" game. I was never too good at that one. I was carrying my backpack, my manpurse, and the carry-on with the Wii and many accessories in it, so basically all my most valuable items on earth were right there in my hands. So you could probably imagine that I was a little touchy when anyone came anywhere near me. But then it got really fun. I was taking up the rear for some reason unbeknownst to me, and this was about when, during the 5 minute walk to the cars, that some dude came up behind me and decided he was going to "help" with my rolling carry-on. And you'd better believe I was going to strike that man downbefore I gave him possession of one of the few things thatkept my sanity in Quebec, and as I'm pretty sure will here. After a couple minutes of trying to reply his mumbled french and incredibly broken english with my terrible french, and dad saying "no" once to him at one single point in time, the cars pulled up and we started to put our stuff in. Thanks so much for all the help, mom and dad.
Then, at 6:30 (which was 2:30 Boston time), everyone decided it was high freakin' time for some tea and biscuits. It's not like I've been hauling crap around all day, and I sure as Seth Rogen don't want to go crash at our apartment, or that I haven't slept for 24 hours. No, really, let's go have some breakfast!!!
So, finally, 3 meals, 3 power outages, 2 naps, several trips to the Adamson's, and a few e-mails later, here I am at the laptop, telling you about my first day here. Oh, and its really really hot and humid. Let's just hope we can find a voltage adapter so I can plug the Wii in and spend some quality sanity time with my favorite little white box.
-Dazed and Confused
"First impressions are often entirely...wrong"
-Lemony Snicket
Saturday, May 17, 2008
It's About Time
Well it's been more than amonth since my last post so I figure I'd stop procrastinating and at least update you on whats going on. First off, the rugby season has started at QHS, and has taken top prize for least organized sports team. EVER. In a school where education takes 2nd place to the 6 month long Basketball season, you'd think that the other sports would get a some attention as well. Our nonexistent practice schedule plus the less-than-a-month season speaks volumes otherwise. Earlier this month, me and Caleb picked up Mario Kart Wii. Not nearly as good as Double Dash or DS, but a decent Wii game. rent it before you buy it, unless you have exstensively played every other Mario Kart and love 'em whether they border mediocrity or not. In video game news, which I'm sure you're all psyched about, Guitar Hero 4 will have drums and vocals (like Rock Band) plus the ability to custom make tracks. Also, WiiWare just released this last monday, and I downloaded Defend Your Castle from xgen studios. If you've got a Wii, 5 bucks, and an internet connection, this game is totally worth it. This Monday 9 games on WiiWare are to be released, and its Victoria Day (whoever that is *rolls eyes*), so no school in Canada and WiiWare for Will. Oo-rah. Last week there was a History project, english paper, and science lab report due so its nice to be able to breathe easily this weekend. Then science test this thursday, plus Indy 4's release after that! Our little stop at Quebec is rapidly drawing to a close as our 2nd to last month is halfway over. Not lookin' forward to packing again, but it'll be soooo nice to spend some quality time back home. And in case you didn't know, we're subletting a furnished house until december when we get to Senegal, so we have a chance to find a really good house. Not really my first pick, mais c'est la vie. What can ya do? See ya next time, on Will's super duper blogpost show! Now, of to defend my castle.
- Will
"What a weird day. I don't understand it. But you don't get to understand every day of your life. Maybe 5, 10 days a year I'll get home and I won't know what the heck just happened. I guess everyone has days like that. Sometimes they're the nicest ones."
- Will
"What a weird day. I don't understand it. But you don't get to understand every day of your life. Maybe 5, 10 days a year I'll get home and I won't know what the heck just happened. I guess everyone has days like that. Sometimes they're the nicest ones."
Friday, April 11, 2008
I'm This Many
In the words of Ben and Arvin from Wii Like to Podcast- "Happy Bithday Will". In pretty much the coolest event that ever happened, my mom e-mailed the guys from WLTP, telling them it was my birthday, and they sent me a personalized video and an autographed picture of them. And this was only the beginning.
But before I describe the minutia of Will's April 9th , let me start with the minutia of Will's March 28th and Will's April 4th. Both quite enjoyable dates, the 28th was trivia night and the 4th was my actual birthday party.
Trivia night was by far the most entertaining thing the school has organized out of school. The concept was simple; pack a ton of people into the cafeteria (comfyish chairs), let them provide their own snacks (no restraints), and throw trivia questions at them (trivia rocks), for prizes (hello more chocolate and giftcards!). The only downside to this was that I didn't get to meet Regis Philbin or Alex Trebek, which is a total bummer because I thought they were the only people with license to ask trivia questions! the people in my team also took this as an opportunity to give eachother codenames, and incidentally, they were all birds. In other words, Agent Chickadee, at your service.
I didn't even think I was going to have a birthday party earlier in the year, but then I thought about the availability of good, junk food snacks in Senegal and decided that I needed a last hoorah, you know? It was pretty cool, only 2 people ended up actually coming but you can only play 4 player in Brawl anyway! I've heard that getting some dudes into a basement and eat candy while playing video games for 4 hours is "such a teenage guy thing", and I've now decided to now spread that tradition across the world and to all age groups. if anyone has any idea how I could do that, drop me a line and I'll get right on it.
And now, without further ado, Will's April 9th. All in all, it was an awesome day. Unfortunately, this year it wasn't on Good Friday so I did have to go to school, but even that couldn't suck the awesome out of my birthday. Before that, I had breakfast in bed, a Martin tradition (mmmmm poptarts), and got a small present on the tray (The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time. Yes, you are allowed to drool now)
But of course, the best part of the day was the part when I wasn't at school. We got Pizza Hut pizza for dinner, a rare delicacy, and then some awesome cake. grandma's recipe hasn't failed yet, although Mom thinks it had the essence of "swampy bog" in it. Then came everyone's favorite part of Birthday's: presents. And before anyone else asks, I got:
A sweet iPod Docking speaker
The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time
My picture of Washington, D.C. with my class framed
My French Coach for DS (pretty much the most fun way to learn a new language)
Weights (laugh now, whimper in terror as I come back to the U.S. a veritable incredible Hulk)
and a DS charger Grip from Amazon that's coming on Monday :D
plus the video and picture from Ben and Arvin
Thanks Mom and Dad!!
So, yes, the birthday loot was flowing and I'm still taking in the music I got with the Copelands' iTunes Gift card (Thank you!!) and its playin' loud in the speaker while I play My French Coach while I lift weights with my feet and watching Sam play Zelda and the D.C. picture is on the wall and I'm watching the Wii Like to Podcast video and waiting for the Charger grip.
Oh yes.
Well, I'd better be going. I need to go see is "comfyish" is a real word.
-Will
"There is nothing in life that can't be solved by a well-placed Falcon Punch"
But before I describe the minutia of Will's April 9th , let me start with the minutia of Will's March 28th and Will's April 4th. Both quite enjoyable dates, the 28th was trivia night and the 4th was my actual birthday party.
Trivia night was by far the most entertaining thing the school has organized out of school. The concept was simple; pack a ton of people into the cafeteria (comfyish chairs), let them provide their own snacks (no restraints), and throw trivia questions at them (trivia rocks), for prizes (hello more chocolate and giftcards!). The only downside to this was that I didn't get to meet Regis Philbin or Alex Trebek, which is a total bummer because I thought they were the only people with license to ask trivia questions! the people in my team also took this as an opportunity to give eachother codenames, and incidentally, they were all birds. In other words, Agent Chickadee, at your service.
I didn't even think I was going to have a birthday party earlier in the year, but then I thought about the availability of good, junk food snacks in Senegal and decided that I needed a last hoorah, you know? It was pretty cool, only 2 people ended up actually coming but you can only play 4 player in Brawl anyway! I've heard that getting some dudes into a basement and eat candy while playing video games for 4 hours is "such a teenage guy thing", and I've now decided to now spread that tradition across the world and to all age groups. if anyone has any idea how I could do that, drop me a line and I'll get right on it.
And now, without further ado, Will's April 9th. All in all, it was an awesome day. Unfortunately, this year it wasn't on Good Friday so I did have to go to school, but even that couldn't suck the awesome out of my birthday. Before that, I had breakfast in bed, a Martin tradition (mmmmm poptarts), and got a small present on the tray (The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time. Yes, you are allowed to drool now)
But of course, the best part of the day was the part when I wasn't at school. We got Pizza Hut pizza for dinner, a rare delicacy, and then some awesome cake. grandma's recipe hasn't failed yet, although Mom thinks it had the essence of "swampy bog" in it. Then came everyone's favorite part of Birthday's: presents. And before anyone else asks, I got:
A sweet iPod Docking speaker
The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time
My picture of Washington, D.C. with my class framed
My French Coach for DS (pretty much the most fun way to learn a new language)
Weights (laugh now, whimper in terror as I come back to the U.S. a veritable incredible Hulk)
and a DS charger Grip from Amazon that's coming on Monday :D
plus the video and picture from Ben and Arvin
Thanks Mom and Dad!!
So, yes, the birthday loot was flowing and I'm still taking in the music I got with the Copelands' iTunes Gift card (Thank you!!) and its playin' loud in the speaker while I play My French Coach while I lift weights with my feet and watching Sam play Zelda and the D.C. picture is on the wall and I'm watching the Wii Like to Podcast video and waiting for the Charger grip.
Oh yes.
Well, I'd better be going. I need to go see is "comfyish" is a real word.
-Will
"There is nothing in life that can't be solved by a well-placed Falcon Punch"
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Can't you Feel It?
The days are getting longer, the birds have come back, the temperature is rising, and everyone's just in a better mood. Can't you feel it?
In the summer, that giant pile of snow behind us is not a hill at all. The ground behind us is normally flat. Just thought I'd letcha know. Taken on Easter Sunday
SPRING IS IN THE AIR!
Oh yes, winter's over and its time to get some new cargo shorts and sunscreen to put in em! Woo hoo!
Although, in Quebec, it's pretty much not spring. Everyone's still down about winter, and I'm still "Bring it on!." Think about it; these 5 feet of snow that keep falling on our heads every month could be the last 5 feet of snow I see in 3 years. Until college. Das a long time.
Anyway, actually been pretty busy with myself over the past few weeks. But just a Wii bit (Like how I threw that in there?) I've played Brawl for like 60 hours, yes, but other activities have included (drumroll please); going to Taco Bell (the only one in the city), going to a big sledding park, going to get my wonderful locks cruelly destroyed, and, yes, playing more Brawl.
So I bet you're wondering: "Will, how was your haircut?"
Well it goes something like this:
My glorious hair blows in the wind as i step into the room smelling of old hairspray and I realize that this is not the Eb Games my dad promised he would take me to. The evil lady cackling with the intensity of a thousand suns straps me into a chair and rip the long, Jerry Garcia-esque hair out of my skull and hits me over the head with a pan, then kicks the chair (which is on wheels made of dead puppies) into the 4-way intersection where I am saved by CHUCK NORRIS.
But actually I just kinda walked in, got my hair trimmed a half-inch, the lady told me I should come in more often because my hair is, and I quote, "like...umm...like crap." Maybe twice a year is not enough times to get my hair cut.
Taco Bell was awesome, best cheesy burrito I've ever had. The sledding was also wicked cool, one of the highlights of my winter activities here in Quebec.
Other than that, not much else to report. My birthday is in 2 weeks (Woohoo!) and that should be fun and I might be having some visitors up here from the States in later April, but things are all as they should be up here in cold Canadia. Happy Spring and Happy Birthday!
-Will
In the summer, that giant pile of snow behind us is not a hill at all. The ground behind us is normally flat. Just thought I'd letcha know. Taken on Easter Sunday
SPRING IS IN THE AIR!
Oh yes, winter's over and its time to get some new cargo shorts and sunscreen to put in em! Woo hoo!
Although, in Quebec, it's pretty much not spring. Everyone's still down about winter, and I'm still "Bring it on!." Think about it; these 5 feet of snow that keep falling on our heads every month could be the last 5 feet of snow I see in 3 years. Until college. Das a long time.
Anyway, actually been pretty busy with myself over the past few weeks. But just a Wii bit (Like how I threw that in there?) I've played Brawl for like 60 hours, yes, but other activities have included (drumroll please); going to Taco Bell (the only one in the city), going to a big sledding park, going to get my wonderful locks cruelly destroyed, and, yes, playing more Brawl.
So I bet you're wondering: "Will, how was your haircut?"
Well it goes something like this:
My glorious hair blows in the wind as i step into the room smelling of old hairspray and I realize that this is not the Eb Games my dad promised he would take me to. The evil lady cackling with the intensity of a thousand suns straps me into a chair and rip the long, Jerry Garcia-esque hair out of my skull and hits me over the head with a pan, then kicks the chair (which is on wheels made of dead puppies) into the 4-way intersection where I am saved by CHUCK NORRIS.
But actually I just kinda walked in, got my hair trimmed a half-inch, the lady told me I should come in more often because my hair is, and I quote, "like...umm...like crap." Maybe twice a year is not enough times to get my hair cut.
Taco Bell was awesome, best cheesy burrito I've ever had. The sledding was also wicked cool, one of the highlights of my winter activities here in Quebec.
Other than that, not much else to report. My birthday is in 2 weeks (Woohoo!) and that should be fun and I might be having some visitors up here from the States in later April, but things are all as they should be up here in cold Canadia. Happy Spring and Happy Birthday!
-Will
Thursday, March 20, 2008
As Promised, My Super Smash Bros. Brawl Review
1999. Super Smash Bros. Brawl, a small budget game originally slated as a Japan-only release, pitting Nintendo’s all-stars against each other, goes on to sell 4.6 million copies worldwide. 2008. After 3 delays, the third iteration of the big N’s now famous series releases on March 9th, boasting a full-fledged one-player mode and almost 3 times the amount of characters from the first game. Super Smash Bros. Brawl is a game that excels in nearly every way, from the controls to the one player campaign to the always wonderful multiplayer modes.
The Smash Bros. games have always been known for their multiplayer, getting 4 friends together and playing the games can still provide hours of entertainment. But Smash Bros. Brawl improves on its predecessor, Smash Bros. Melee, in so many subtle but important ways, and adds so many new game options it’s a wonder how they fit it on a Wii Optical Disc (The game takes up a whopping 128 blocks, and to give you a yardstick, The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess takes up only 1 and Super Mario World takes 4.) For instance, players can now have access to a fully customizable game mode system, where options like metal or low gravity can be put in. The biggest change to the regular vs. matches is the introduction of the Final Smash. When a Smash Ball appears on the screen, it gives everyone a very good reason to stop what they’re doing and go after it. Once you break the floating Smash bros. symbol open, you have one-time access to an attack that can turn the tide of any fight. The new characters are all well-balanced, and for the most part, incredibly fun to play. The new stages are also a highlight of the game. The Warioware stage in particular is one of the most talked about stages in the game, and for good reason. Every once in a while, the arena turns into a full screen minigame, awarding brawlers who “followed the instructions” with items like the starman or a mega-mushroom.
As you may know, there are 4 controller options, and you’ve probably heard by now that our trusty Gamecube controllers are still the best for playing as your favorite veteran or newcomer character. The Classic controller also works well, and the Wiimote and nunchuck configuration can be used in a pinch, but the sideways Wiimote works so badly I don’t even know why they put it in the game.
The game is jam-packed with unlockables, by far the most of any previous Smash Bros. titles. Between the event mode, challenge mode, Subspace Emissary, and stadium levels, any one person could play the game without unlocking everything for months or even years. With over 700 trophies, plus many stickers and CD’s to collect, the series purists should find plenty to sink their teeth into. The stage editor in particular is an option I’ve spent a lot of time on, which enables you to create your own stage, give it a name and background music, and even submit it to Nintendo for a chance to have it be the stage of the day.
The music in the game is truly worthy of all the characters’ games combined, and even before getting any CD’s in-game, there is already a massive library of Nintendo music at your fingertips through the My Music option. The music ranges from nostalgic remixes to straight adaptations of the original music, and the variety of genre in the game should also be noted. From do-op jazz to orchestral renditions to songs that sound like they should be in Guitar Hero, or songs like the Wii Sports menu music or the original Ice Climbers theme all just seem to fit in the game’s atmosphere.
One could argue that, yes, the game is still more fun in its multiplayer modes than in the one-player excursions. But let me ask you something; can you dream up a one person game that is more fun than getting 3 other friends together and beating each other up with Mario, Link, Solid Snake, and Sonic? No ideas? Didn’t think so. Online modes with strangers are very limited (2 minute brawls only, and absolutely no names or communication) but work fluidly and only occasionally lag. However, if you can go through the hassle of exchanging your Wii number (16 digits) and your special Brawl friend code (12 digits), the results are worth it. The friend code games work perfectly, with options to team up in home-run contest or other stadium modes, or just regular Brawls.
The graphics are some of the best you’ll see on the Wii yet, the audio is great, and you’ll be playing this for years to come. I give the game 9.75 out of 10. The only thing keeping this title from perfection is the online mode, which could have been the highlight of the game, but due to Nintendo’s “protect the little ones” online strategies, it feels a little restrictive. But the bottom line is; if you have a Wii, buy Brawl. If you have a Wii and don’t want Brawl, sell it and check into a home because no one in their right mind would pass on this truly spectacular game.
The Smash Bros. games have always been known for their multiplayer, getting 4 friends together and playing the games can still provide hours of entertainment. But Smash Bros. Brawl improves on its predecessor, Smash Bros. Melee, in so many subtle but important ways, and adds so many new game options it’s a wonder how they fit it on a Wii Optical Disc (The game takes up a whopping 128 blocks, and to give you a yardstick, The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess takes up only 1 and Super Mario World takes 4.) For instance, players can now have access to a fully customizable game mode system, where options like metal or low gravity can be put in. The biggest change to the regular vs. matches is the introduction of the Final Smash. When a Smash Ball appears on the screen, it gives everyone a very good reason to stop what they’re doing and go after it. Once you break the floating Smash bros. symbol open, you have one-time access to an attack that can turn the tide of any fight. The new characters are all well-balanced, and for the most part, incredibly fun to play. The new stages are also a highlight of the game. The Warioware stage in particular is one of the most talked about stages in the game, and for good reason. Every once in a while, the arena turns into a full screen minigame, awarding brawlers who “followed the instructions” with items like the starman or a mega-mushroom.
As you may know, there are 4 controller options, and you’ve probably heard by now that our trusty Gamecube controllers are still the best for playing as your favorite veteran or newcomer character. The Classic controller also works well, and the Wiimote and nunchuck configuration can be used in a pinch, but the sideways Wiimote works so badly I don’t even know why they put it in the game.
The game is jam-packed with unlockables, by far the most of any previous Smash Bros. titles. Between the event mode, challenge mode, Subspace Emissary, and stadium levels, any one person could play the game without unlocking everything for months or even years. With over 700 trophies, plus many stickers and CD’s to collect, the series purists should find plenty to sink their teeth into. The stage editor in particular is an option I’ve spent a lot of time on, which enables you to create your own stage, give it a name and background music, and even submit it to Nintendo for a chance to have it be the stage of the day.
The music in the game is truly worthy of all the characters’ games combined, and even before getting any CD’s in-game, there is already a massive library of Nintendo music at your fingertips through the My Music option. The music ranges from nostalgic remixes to straight adaptations of the original music, and the variety of genre in the game should also be noted. From do-op jazz to orchestral renditions to songs that sound like they should be in Guitar Hero, or songs like the Wii Sports menu music or the original Ice Climbers theme all just seem to fit in the game’s atmosphere.
One could argue that, yes, the game is still more fun in its multiplayer modes than in the one-player excursions. But let me ask you something; can you dream up a one person game that is more fun than getting 3 other friends together and beating each other up with Mario, Link, Solid Snake, and Sonic? No ideas? Didn’t think so. Online modes with strangers are very limited (2 minute brawls only, and absolutely no names or communication) but work fluidly and only occasionally lag. However, if you can go through the hassle of exchanging your Wii number (16 digits) and your special Brawl friend code (12 digits), the results are worth it. The friend code games work perfectly, with options to team up in home-run contest or other stadium modes, or just regular Brawls.
The graphics are some of the best you’ll see on the Wii yet, the audio is great, and you’ll be playing this for years to come. I give the game 9.75 out of 10. The only thing keeping this title from perfection is the online mode, which could have been the highlight of the game, but due to Nintendo’s “protect the little ones” online strategies, it feels a little restrictive. But the bottom line is; if you have a Wii, buy Brawl. If you have a Wii and don’t want Brawl, sell it and check into a home because no one in their right mind would pass on this truly spectacular game.
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Icy Conditions Ahead
So here's Quebec Citys Weather today in a fun, easy-to-do craft:
You Will Need:
A picture of what's out a window in your house (pick a window, any window)
A good supply of cottonballs
A handful of white sand
Grey Paint
The eyesight of a 88-year old blind person
Now here's what you do:
Take the picture of the window, put it on a table. Then take the paint, and just pour it on your hand! Then handle the picture (make sure the paint is still wet) for 15 minutes whilst juggling golf balls. Then rip some of the cottonballs apart and eat the rest of them like Will Ferrell did in the movie Elf. then thickly coat the picture in white sand! Now go in one of those circular rooms where sky divers train above a giant, unseeable fan keeping them afloat and you have the weather outside today.
But honestly, what would any self respecting teenage geek do on a snow day?
1. Eat a giant lollipop
2. Play Lord of the Rings Risk
3. Watch the extended edition of Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring on DVD
4. Kick siblings' butts in Smash Bros. Melee six ways to Sunday!
Anyway, school break week was last week, and my Aunt Wendy and Uncle Pat came the week before, but I never did a single post. I wanted to, but I didn't. Sue me. And now it's a 3 day week, not taking into account a possibility of yet another snow day. This is the 4th one. No joke. Pretty standard stuff goin' on, nothing to report on that front. And finally, 4 DAYS UNTIL SUPER SMASH BROS. BRAWL. After it comes out, I'll probably review it and put it on this. Thanks for reading!
Merry Wednesday,
Will
"It's a dangerous business, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to."
You Will Need:
A picture of what's out a window in your house (pick a window, any window)
A good supply of cottonballs
A handful of white sand
Grey Paint
The eyesight of a 88-year old blind person
Now here's what you do:
Take the picture of the window, put it on a table. Then take the paint, and just pour it on your hand! Then handle the picture (make sure the paint is still wet) for 15 minutes whilst juggling golf balls. Then rip some of the cottonballs apart and eat the rest of them like Will Ferrell did in the movie Elf. then thickly coat the picture in white sand! Now go in one of those circular rooms where sky divers train above a giant, unseeable fan keeping them afloat and you have the weather outside today.
But honestly, what would any self respecting teenage geek do on a snow day?
1. Eat a giant lollipop
2. Play Lord of the Rings Risk
3. Watch the extended edition of Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring on DVD
4. Kick siblings' butts in Smash Bros. Melee six ways to Sunday!
Pirate Bandana? Check.
Candy? Check.
Return of the King soundtrack for ambient music? Very check.
That's what I'm talking about.
Anyway, school break week was last week, and my Aunt Wendy and Uncle Pat came the week before, but I never did a single post. I wanted to, but I didn't. Sue me. And now it's a 3 day week, not taking into account a possibility of yet another snow day. This is the 4th one. No joke. Pretty standard stuff goin' on, nothing to report on that front. And finally, 4 DAYS UNTIL SUPER SMASH BROS. BRAWL. After it comes out, I'll probably review it and put it on this. Thanks for reading!
Merry Wednesday,
Will
"It's a dangerous business, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to."
Thursday, February 14, 2008
100 Down, 80 More to Go
Happy Valentine's Day everyone! I hope you all got many yummy heart-flavored word chaulks and mystery chocolates! But, as many might have not noticed, it's the 100th day of school!(in QHS at least) This means there is only 80 days left until my freshman (Secondary 3) year of High School is finished. Which is a pretty cool thing in itself. And then I thought to myself: "But Will, theres a very good chance no one cares that its the 100th day of school, or that Will is sort of almost a quarter done with High School." So, to appease you whiny little peons, I decided that, for the good of all who read this, that it's time for another list!
Here are some things I've done since the beginning of the school year:
Gone on an RTC bus approximately 400 different times
Doubled my french language comprehension
Gone to 500 classes in Quebec High
Worn 5 different "Tucs"
Still haven't had a single KinderSuprise
Gone home twice
Bought 7 posters
Gotten Guitar Hero 3 for Wii
Beaten Guitar Hero 3 for Wii on Expert
Pushed back my countdown until Super Smash Bros Brawl come out- 3 times
Spray Painted a shirt (see below)
Finally obtained an Ipod Classic
Doubled my Itunes Library
Multiplied the amount of gigs in video on Itunes by 5
Developed an obsession with Scrubs
Obtained a cell phone
Learned to play Pirates of the Carribean on Caleb's Guitar
Drinken about 120 cans of Root Beer
Tried playing in a marching band
Gone to the Winter Carnivale
Ran away from the Bonhomme des Carnivale
Visited Montmorency Falls twice
Completed 10 french dictees 3 times each
And finally...
I've created a blog
Now about that shirt...
Photos awesomely taken by Sam Martin
-Will
"I know nothing about St. Valentine, I can only assume he's the patron Saint of overpriced greeting cards."
Here are some things I've done since the beginning of the school year:
Gone on an RTC bus approximately 400 different times
Doubled my french language comprehension
Gone to 500 classes in Quebec High
Worn 5 different "Tucs"
Still haven't had a single KinderSuprise
Gone home twice
Bought 7 posters
Gotten Guitar Hero 3 for Wii
Beaten Guitar Hero 3 for Wii on Expert
Pushed back my countdown until Super Smash Bros Brawl come out- 3 times
Spray Painted a shirt (see below)
Finally obtained an Ipod Classic
Doubled my Itunes Library
Multiplied the amount of gigs in video on Itunes by 5
Developed an obsession with Scrubs
Obtained a cell phone
Learned to play Pirates of the Carribean on Caleb's Guitar
Drinken about 120 cans of Root Beer
Tried playing in a marching band
Gone to the Winter Carnivale
Ran away from the Bonhomme des Carnivale
Visited Montmorency Falls twice
Completed 10 french dictees 3 times each
And finally...
I've created a blog
Now about that shirt...
Photos awesomely taken by Sam Martin
-Will
"I know nothing about St. Valentine, I can only assume he's the patron Saint of overpriced greeting cards."
Monday, February 4, 2008
Red Bull Grace Pool Smash Cloverfield Super Ipod Monster Bowl Crashed Ice- in 3 Days!
So maybe I didn't do all those things in 3 days. But also maybe thats more than one thing and I "haven't found the time" to write about any of them over the 3 to 4 weeks I've done them. So, to sum up in but several sentences; *deep breath* "Smash bros. came out in Japan, leaks are all over the 'net. I went to Red Bull Crashed Ice, it was kinda cool. Concert after was awesome. I got an Ipod! Thank you Debra Copeland! I SAW CLOVERFIELD! Clovie was, yes, a beautiful and majestic creature. See it yesterday or else.
So I've lived in Canada for about 5 months now, and it amazes me how much I'm still suprised by little things that are hardly noticeable but still so canadian they bleed maple syrup. Simple things like the fact that all the mounties (citizens) up here call whoopie pies Joe Louies. Joe Louie sounds like a drunk fat italian you meet at a ball game who smells like tobacco. Or how gumdrops= JubJub's. OR my personal favorite; how they call tjhe DS's touch screen a tactile screen. I'm not trying to be a snobbish American pig-dog tourist, I;m just saying it still throws me off. I mean, what would the first Nintendo DS ad campaign look like? This??
I'm sorry, T'would be silly.
On an ending note, Bonhomme de Carnival is the creepiest creature I've ever had the misfortune of seeing. Just thinking of it gives me the hibbliy jibblies.
-Will
This post is in memoriam of Sparky the dog, who's tiny, adorable, hyper spirit has ascended into doggie heaven. May she rest in peace.
"Bark! Bark!" *chases tail*
-Sparks
So I've lived in Canada for about 5 months now, and it amazes me how much I'm still suprised by little things that are hardly noticeable but still so canadian they bleed maple syrup. Simple things like the fact that all the mounties (citizens) up here call whoopie pies Joe Louies. Joe Louie sounds like a drunk fat italian you meet at a ball game who smells like tobacco. Or how gumdrops= JubJub's. OR my personal favorite; how they call tjhe DS's touch screen a tactile screen. I'm not trying to be a snobbish American pig-dog tourist, I;m just saying it still throws me off. I mean, what would the first Nintendo DS ad campaign look like? This??
I'm sorry, T'would be silly.
On an ending note, Bonhomme de Carnival is the creepiest creature I've ever had the misfortune of seeing. Just thinking of it gives me the hibbliy jibblies.
-Will
This post is in memoriam of Sparky the dog, who's tiny, adorable, hyper spirit has ascended into doggie heaven. May she rest in peace.
"Bark! Bark!" *chases tail*
-Sparks
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Don't be a Duke Nukem Forever
Come on Nintendo, don't screw yourself over like this. Correct me if I'm wrong, please do people, but wasn't Super Smash Bros. Brawl originally a Wii launch title? Then Summer, Then December 3rd. Okay, I can deal with that. December 3rd. I'll be playing it at Christmas break, online, kickin' butt. Oh, but wait- they need just a little more time. Fine, not great, but I guess I'd rather have a late but better game than an on-time but not-as-perfect one. Febuary 10th. Okay. But here's the real punch in the crotch. March 9th. March 9th. It was subtle, it was quick, and quite sneaky, but yes, Nintendo has actually moved the date back another month. This is getting kinda crazy. Having Pre-ordered the game in October, and waiting a few years before that, I think a more than a few nintendophiles are kind of upset about this.
Here's what the big N had to say:
“The development is taking slightly longer than expected,” the company said in a news release. “As we're sure you have seen on the Dojo site (www.SmashBros.com), the game contains an unprecedented number of characters, options and experiences. Be sure to keep an eye on the Dojo site for the latest information.”
Tsk, Tsk, guys.
A little tickedly,
Will
“A delayed game is eventually good, a bad game is bad forever”
-Shigeru Miyamoto, The Granddaddy of video games
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