I Wonder What Will's Up To

We're on a Break

2012-02-12T20:43:00.000-08:00

This is a day I've been dreading for many years.

I think, and have thought for some time, that everyone with a hobby--including video games, or knitting, or football watching-- has a point where they sit back and think about how it shapes their life. I was just hoping that I would be the first gamer to skip it.

Now, an important disclaimer: I love video games. This does not mean that they're all I do. I usually play a maximum of three to four hours a week, and when I have a busy week, which is to say a normal week, I may go the entirety of it without picking up a controller. I have not sunk days of my life into Skyrim just yet, and other people always take precedent over Halo.

A few weeks ago, near the end of Christmas break, I beat Gears of War. While the game was pretty good, the last level was ridiculous. It was horrible. The final boss is legendarily difficult, known for causing controller breakage and the odd tear or two. I finally defeated him after a walkthrough video, a few difficulty changes, and about 50 tries. It was the kind of experience, combined with the countless hours of listless free time I had over Christmas break, that made me question why I played video games.

Enter: Rayman Origins. Spectacular platforming aside, it is perhaps the happiest game I've ever played. The onscreen character is constantly beaming and flashing peace signs, as he traverses bottomless pits and admittedly adorable enemies. When you run into a secret area several people exclaim "oooh!" Almost every sound is on upbeat with the soundtrack which consists largely of didgeridoos and ukeleles. This is a game that was made with constant injections of pure fun.

There are reasons that video games are fairly unrespected as media that aren't simply length-of-existence. Games with the best stories--Bioshock, Mass Effect, and Shadow of Colossus come to mind--are still somewhat outclassed and far, far out numbered by the best movies and novels.

But they do fill niches that exist in other forms of media. Gears of War, I'd say, is the gaming equivalent of the Transformers trilogy. Mario is like a classic Dr. Seuss book. But I don't know that there are any romantic comedy video games. And I have yet to play the gaming equivalent of the Great Gatsby.

Here's my problem: when I get a musical urge, I usually skip awkwardly and poorly strumming the 2 chords I know on the old guitar I have and turn to the instant gratification of the beloved Rock Band series. But while I can still do well on most expert guitar songs, and have made a lot of progress on pro keys since Christmas, thank you very much, I have friends who can play real, actual instruments very well now.

It's an intimidating part of growing up--even in a small college, for pretty much anything I do well, there is a handful of people (usually several handfuls) that can beat me in it. But I'm not going to get better at singing or writing if I fill my slices of free time with video games, even with the delectable Rayman Origins.

And if you can't imagine your life without something, it's time to go without it for a while.

I considered giving them up for a month. A fast, of sorts. I read about a guy who did it for a year once but I guess I'm not that hardcore. And then I remembered that there is a Pokemon League and Tournament (with Blue and Red version) planned for this semester. That may never happen again in my life. I'm not that strong.

So my resolution, then, is to not play them that much for while. I know, I'm a very convicted person.

-Will

"Don't eat fish on Fridays! Unless you forget!"

Going to Learn, to Get Some Knowledge

2011-12-08T15:52:00.001-08:00

As you've probably heard from every college student you've had any interaction with over the last few days, it's finals weeks. Which means, as you've probably heard from all the freshman college students you've had any interaction with over the past few days, our first semester of college is almost vanquished. It' doesn't feel like the semester is over, because I still have a fairly significant amount of work to do, but I'm seeing, if not the end of the tunnel, at least the top of the hill.

But classes are over. The semester is, essentially, over. Last year a wise, bearded mandolin player (seriously though) enlightened me to the fact that college courses end after one semester. Maybe this is common knowledge, but if he hadn't told me, I probably wouldn't have found out until this moment. This shocking realization lead me to one even more alarming. I'm going to miss my classes.

I walked, giddily, out of my exam today. I walked out of an oral exam giddy. Granted, getting out of an exam early is one of life's more exhilarating experiences, but

Those who know me know that I'm not an academic over-achiever. I'm not saying I'm stupid, but there are people who love the very experience of learning and I, until this point, have never been one of them. I have turned in papers five or six words over the minimum, and I will never do optional reading. I don't generally have many positive feelings toward any class after its final exam (Journalism being the exception out of the 28 that I took in high school). Even though my AP Lit teacher was fantastic, and the class did indeed prepare me to college in a beat-into-submission kind of way, I would never take it again. But if you sat me down and told me I had to listen to Borgman rant about Abraham for another four months, I'd be pretty okay with it.
Maybe I got lucky with my class choice this year-- I know, with my earliest class at 11:25, I did with their timing. I had Intro to Creative Writing, which stereotypically had the strangest conglomeration of students, as well as a very personable, very hipster professor. I took the Examined Life, the required philosophy class that I not only didn't hate, but enjoyed so much I'm considering a minor in philosophy. There was Bible as Literature, with it's meager six students and very eccentric, charismatic, yet somewhat...kooky professor. And then we have Old Testament. For that one, it's not the class I will miss as much as the company of the person to the right of me. All my professors were really nice, all the homework was reasonable, and I frequently slept in until 11:00 am. I promise, I'm not being paid by Gordon for this.

So, after thinking about this for a while, I came to another The internet would make an inception joke here. Looking back at the posts from this semester, realization, learning, is the motif, the common thread running through it all. I learned how good Sam is at creating weaponry from paper, I learned the difference between tuna and chicken salad (and forgot it again), I learned--to an extent-- how much more Africa affected me than I thought. And heck, I've enjoyed it.

I never imagined considering graduate school, and I know it's ridiculous to consider it at this point, but seven and a half years of school don't sound as bad as they once did. There are so many things to learn! I'm majoring in English, but I'm auditioning for a music minor next year, plus there's drama, philosophy, biblical studies...all incredibly interesting subjects worth pursuing.

Even ignoring all classes this semester, I learned that fishercat calls are horrifying, what swag is, that the library steps are best place on campus to see the sky, all seven verses of "O Come All Ye Faithful," that my facial hair is still patchy, that it's really hard to be spontaneous without a car, and that girls don't appreciate incredibly abrasive Bostonian waiters.

There is still plenty I have yet to learn of course. I still don't know why there are hooks on our door if we can't hook anything on them and the proper response for "what's good?", but hey. That's what the next seven semesters are for. Also the rest of my life.

-Will

"Things that come easy are not usually good. Good things take effort."

Dry Season

2011-11-27T19:06:00.001-08:00

Recently I've realized that I've been affected by my time in Africa much more than I was aware of.

In early October, as I possessed zero water-resistant outer garments, my dad took me to get an umbrella and a raincoat at various Wenham-area retailers. I appreciated the thought and the generosity, but I quite frankly thought it was kind of silly. I never considered why I thought this silly. If I had thought through my logic on this, however, I would have some to the idea that "it rained really hard this last week, so it must be about dry season now." But because I didn't ever get that far, and tell that to myself, I didn't realize that that is of course not a thing here.

I was fantastic to see so many people in this past week. I saw my bros from Charter, people at church, most of my extended family, a couple of friends from DA, and even my friend in Texas (which if I haven't ranted about to you yet, was a fantastic trip). It was a great time, but it kind of took me off guard, for the same reason as the rain has. In my head, when I said bye to them at the end of the summer, I didn't really expect to see them for another year. I told them, in a-- I promise-- non-manufactured surprised manner, that "I'll see you at Thanksgiving!" But again, if I had thought it through, I would have seen that I didn't believe what I was saying.

You could say it's the effect of two summers and no winters back in America had. Some might call it a rare, psychological phenomenon. But if I were being honest with myself, you know what I'd call it? Culture shock.

-Will

"Look there's a statue!"

"Did You Partake in the Miracle of Human Flight, You Noncontributing Zero?!"

2011-10-17T10:22:00.000-07:00

I've had a lot of technological topics on my mind these past few months, what with returning to the land of consumerism, buying my first TV and laptop, and the death of and subsequent honor and worship bestowed upon Steve Jobs. But someone showed me this video the other week and I realized that Louie CK had already said, more succinctly and hilariously than I ever could, what I wanted to.

I embed to you "Everything's Amazing and Nobody's Happy."

-Will

"Like, how quickly the world owes him something he knew existed only ten seconds ago."

And For my First Job...

2011-10-09T19:38:00.000-07:00

I got the most cliched possibility: a dishwasher. However, since most of the stories from the dishroom involve long hours with steamy old food and spraying bits of ambiguous foodstuffs out of the machine with a hose (somehow there is always macaroni cheese in the grates, yet we rarely serve macaroni), I will tell the tale of the deli line.

I've been gradually learning the ins and outs of the various positions at Lane, our beloved cafeteria, and today I ended up placed in the sandwich line. Seems pretty straightforward, right? For a normal person, it would be.

I suddenly remembered that from Kindergarten to 8th grade there wasn't a school day I can remember that I didn't have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Since then, if I'm having something else, I pretty religiously stick to American cheese with some kind of basic meat. I've never had lettuce and tomatoes on them in my life. I am not known for my exotic sandwiching.

I hadn't glanced at the two ambiguously diced and mayo-ed bins of meat, varying slightly in hue, which I now know were tuna and chicken salad. When the second girl in line asked for chicken salad, I came to the terrifying realization that I didn't know which was which. I had to ask her, which was which.

She told me I was "kind of scaring her," and I understood.

One girl, an acquaintance whom I relayed the episode to, said that since I could not distinguish the two she had "lost faith in me as a human being." It got pretty intense. When I said I didn't like mayo she just walked off.

Then a few sandwiches, a bit of nervous sweat, and one get-into-the-groove later, a girl ordered a pita. This is a bread option difficult to stuff in any situation. It would have been okay if she had ordered hummus and a slice of lettuce, but she ordered half a farm! Lettuce, tomato, salami, ham, pickles, onions, the works. There's like a quarter of an inch of space in these things!

I handed her a plate with her sandwich spilling out from the pita like taun-taun guts, and she gave me this look like it was physically possible to fit such an assortment of sandwich items into this quasi-bread. Not my fault.

Some say that everyone should work food service at least once, which I now heartily agree to. I've always liked the sandwich ladies at lunch--they're friendly, and they make a mean ham-and-cheese-- but I have never had more respect for them.

Tan-colored, Gordon-branded uniform hats off to you, workers of Lane.

-Will

"Whoa! There's a shirt with like, the whole Justice League on it."

Weathered

2011-10-01T23:18:00.000-07:00

Walking out of the dining hall tonight was a more energizing experience than I would have possibly guessed. I could smell the ocean as if I were standing on its shore, although I was miles from it. One side of the sky was tinted orange and the other a strange green, yet the whole of it was glowing as if it were holding back day from us. Early-fallen red leaves kicked up high into the air from a strong wind, driven by the pressure before a storm. It's the sort of night that seems almost supernatural, the kind of weather that makes one expect something incredible to happen.

As I've told most of the people who would listen, I'm incredibly excited for the only two things I couldn't re-experience during my summer America trips; fall and winter-- and I forgot, even, how quickly the former can arrive.

Although I don't consider fall in full swing (as excited as I am to wear my tucs, new and old, they are still optional headgear), the weather has been fantastic from the day I arrived. Instead of this time of year being marked by a constant,"stagnant, blistering heat," I've worn a t-shirt and been hot, a heavy coat and been cold, a raincoat and been wet. Mostly though, a jacket is enough, but that is thrilling to me.

Pumpkins mysteriously and festively appeared on our dorm steps last week, and they were my favorite things. It has been three years since I've seen a pumpkin. Three years! What would Linus say?

Cider is now readily available at the coffee house on campus. Football is flowing like wine, even though both my teams decided to play poorly this week. The Office started up again last week. The weather's getting crisp again, for good. I am a seriously happy person right now.

Because it's October here, and that means something.

-Will

"Because I do want to know what Will's up to and he's not granting me that ability."

My Brother the Chief

2011-09-10T17:27:00.000-07:00

About an hour ago, I was speechless about the sunset at Good Harbor beach.

To imagine that this is a normal sight to people with beach houses was and is beyond my comprehension.

I am now speechless in a very different way, over a very different type of picture.

I cannot even describe what just came over me. It was a sort of mix of nostalgia, utter pride, brotherly love

He's been working on them for a while now, and I've of course been asking for some pictures of the finished product. He and they exceeded my expectations about as far as is legal to exceed them.

And it's not just the poses anyone could think about. There are 35 pictures in the album, showing Master Chief not just posing like a boss, but playing ping-pong,

chess,

and my personal favorite, wearing a sombrero and twirling a mustache that tragically couldn't exist.

Knowing that my little brother is spending his time doing this evokes such pride that my heart cliche-dly swells up. It's like when Anna started playing Pokemon Yellow. I miss my family, I think, a lot more than I'm conscious of. I miss you, Sam. Love you dude.

-Will

"Why shouldn't I look at the sun?"

Come On Irene

2011-08-27T16:57:00.001-07:00

Tomorrow, as most of you may know, is the day hurricane Irene is hitting Massachusetts. Since our dorm is what some would call a piece of crap, we're actually being evacuated to somewhere...newer. Also where there aren't several, giant trees around. I thought I'd give a regularly updated account of the events over here at Gordon-- like twitter, really, but less completely useless.

So this is either going to be a gripping, Cloverfield-like first person perspective on the worst natural disaster Gordon has ever seen, or a chronicling of 20 dudes who stocked up on junk food, being in a basement, and eating the junk food.

Saturday

5:30-- (T-minus 16.5 hours until lockdown) Target run to pick up some food for tomorrow. Luckily they hadn't raised Easy Mac prices tenfold in anticipation of the storm. Also purchased a scooter. As in, a razor scooter. Apparently those are socially acceptable here, and since there's real pavement here, they work.

7:30-- (T-minus 14.5) Test out scooter on way to dining hall. It is awesome. My seven minute trip from the dorm to the dining hall is now a meager 180 seconds.

8:20-- Packing time. To take, or not to take my entire nerf selection. Better safe than sorry.

9:42-- Still packing. Things are getting somewhat serious, actually-- the RA is planning to bump the evacuation time from tomorrow at 9 am to tonight at midnight.

9:56-- Now avoiding the news. Pictures and "deadly storm" headlines really can do no good for me at this point. It'll probably be fine..but still.

9:57-- I really would have been fine if I went, say, a month or so without packing, but here we are.

Sunday

1:54-- There are eleven laptops set up on the table in the basement of Ferrin Hall, our new spot. Rain's comin' down pretty hard again. Played through a few games of League of Legends after some rousing CatchPhrase, and still goin' strong. Off to retrieve the PizzaRolls in our freezer across the way.

2:21-- Tom drank "Sprite" from a bottle with a red cap originally on it. I don't know what black magic spawned such a substance, but I'm predicting some sort of ailment.

12:19-- Windy, dark, rainy, and League of Legends-y. We're going to start a 5v5 Ferrin v Rider game pretty soon.

12:20-- Quote of the morning so far:
Mike: "Can we turn the lights on so it's not so gloomy?"
Max: "But then it's less like a gamer cave."

I Love College

2011-08-23T19:44:00.000-07:00

I never thought I could possibly be this excited about school. Orientation at Gordon was, how you say, freaking awesome. I tried to organize the intensity and incredible experiences, but I'm really tired and classes start tomorrow so I'm just gonna spitball it a bit. Bear with me.

Academic day was one of the best. That's the one about classes. My schedule is spectacular. I never have any classes until 10:25, my Friday class ends at noon, and I have a three-hour creative writing block ever Monday night. My advisor, an English professor, did voice work for the Tribes and Thief video game series.

Yesterday, I walked outside and was almost overcome by the beauty of the weather. I actually just stood there for something like three minutes, beaming.

The Dean brought a live lobster on stage with him.

There's a band, and the director seems like the nicest guy ever. I got into the men's choir, as well as a band everyone gets into.

Heck, even my textbooks were a joy to purchase; Dad was expecting 400 bucks and it came in at about half that. And they were playing Iron Man on a TV for the line. Not Fireproof, Iron Man.

At DA, I eventually got numb to the reaction that no one knows any references I make or shows I watch. Here, people have quoted teen girl squad, shouted internet memes, and when I called dibs on a Scott Pilgrim poster everyone got jealous because they know what that is.

Although the dorm building I'm living in is not the best, and a hike from the center of campus, the guys in it are fantastic. Half the place plays League of Legends, the RA has a SNES and Atari, and it took about two hours for someone to take out a DS and show us a mighty impressive Pokedex. One senior reminisced about Nerf battles and Brawl tournaments of yesteryear. I've found my people.

That's the real kicker. I told someone I knew running the orientation over facebook that they've been some of my favorite days ever, and that was not hyperbole. I love my class so far. I know that will change eventually, of course; people are still in the "everyone's my best friend stage." But knowing that I've already met a vast number of incredibly interesting, diverse people-- more than I have in years combined-- and still have several hundred options for friends has been exhilarating.

And not to sound like "that guy," but there is a high number of very attractive girls in our class. One wore a transformers shirt yesterday. To sound like that guy-- booyah.

-Will

"God gives you grace, we give you visitation hours."

Reelin' in the Months

2011-08-18T23:13:00.000-07:00

They say first impressions are of the utmost importance, but I would argue that last impressions are even more vital to an opinion.

If I were to sum up my last few months in Africa in a sentence, as I often have done in my head, it would be this: My final encounters soured the vast majority of the few things I enjoyed about Dakar, making me increasingly contented to leave.

I looked forward to this summer. And summer I have.Even though it felt shorter than any I can remember, the highlight reel is a long one.

I went to the midnight release of Harry Potter 7:2 and... Cowboys and Aliens. I met Canadian friends from Africa at the Wrentham Outlets. I watched a minivan run a race course in Maine. I went to Broadway production of Beauty and the Beast in Chicago. I went on a grueling, freezing three-day hike with my brother and dad in New Hampshire. Saw an incredible yo-yoer in Boston. Saw a Red Sox game. Started six books, and finished two. Went to my middle school's graduation. Watched the worst movie of all time, Troll 2. Was immensely surprised by the excellent quality of Rise of the Planet of the Apes. Had a burger at a Mexican restaurant for the 4th year in a row with Pastor Mike. Played 36 holes of mini-golf. Played innumerable hours of Halo. Ordered three bacon pizzas at midnight, and tried to pay with Monopoly money. Had only pizza for food on two separate days. Spent an entire day recording two songs with my new band, The Purple Drankers (http://www.youtube.com/user/ThePurpleDrankers?feature=mhee). Drove 3200 miles, or, the distance from our house to the Pacific Ocean, in one road trip of several, which largely explains the amount of State names in this paragraph.

I had a busy summer.

And tomorrow (today) I'm going to college. I have no concept of this. I'm psyched to move in, get my posters up, meet my roommate, etc. but in my head that's months, not hours, away. My gosh I love commas. It's bizarre to think that I'm going to move out of the house in about seven hours. Isn't that what adults do?

Well, I guess I'm going to college now.

See you on the other side.

-Will

"And if I don't see you again; good afternoon, good evening, and goodnight."

Frikin' Lazers

2011-07-24T12:08:00.001-07:00

I suppose that at this point, some would consider me too old for lazer tag, that as I'm going to college, I should move past novelty shooting games. But that's what they said when I trick or treated at 15, too, and I had a really good haul that year. Also I plan to start a Nerf club at college.

Luckily for me, many of my good friends are with me on this, which is how I found myself at a midnight to 7 a.m. lazer tag session last night in Fall River, Massachusetts.

Fall River is widely known as one of the sketchiest towns in MA; as my friend Jonny suggested, second only to Dorchester. Some of it's city planning was bizarre enough to remind me of Africa. It's the kind of place where, hypothetically, if a group of buddies went and one of them went to Walgreens to pick up a disposable camera unnanounced, the others would be significantly upset with him. They thought I was killed or something.

The lazer tag facility is in an old mill, behind a McDonald's, marked by absolutely zero signage. Neither the parking lot or the building show any indication of housing a lazer tag arena. You can only find out about it if you know the right people. It's kind of a thrill, actually knowing that you've stumbled upon and now have connections with the lazer tag underground. But despite its meager exterior, and to a lesser extent its interior, it's know as the lazer tag place, enough so to make us trek an hour, passing three other options, to get to.

With the group deal, I was pretty thrilled that 35 bucks would get me unlimited lazer tag and arcade games for seven hours, but when I found out that also included pizza, three drinks and Dunkin Donuts donuts, I actually felt bad. At that point it seemed like theft.

It was a pretty fantastic time. It was suggested that the head employee may have been under some influences, as they say, but he seemed like a really nice guy. It's an involved arena, too, with two stories of ample space (although only the n00bs use the first floor), and it kept us going for a good seven hours of early mornin' lazerin'.

Major props to Mack and Dave for overcoming insane heat, transportation for 30 people, and a couple of ditching jerks to throw a wicked awesome party.

And for the record, I'm not being paid for each time I say lazer tag.

-Will

"Why is my thumb shaking?" --Bond, at 5 a.m.

The Boy Who Stayed Awake

2011-07-15T18:07:00.000-07:00

I'm sitting right now in a sea of fandom, at the last midnight launch of a Harry Potter movie in the foreseeable future, 15 minutes before "it all ends." Going to the midnight launch of anything has to be one of the most unique experiences in life. No where else do I know can you find such a raw, unadulterated sea of obssession as the earliest possible moment to watch a movie.

Someone just screamed "Harry Potter! Woo!" and got a significant response from the crowd. There's a 40-year old man with a fake beard and a cloak sitting across from me. There were two girls dressed up as snitches outside, complete with "I open at the close" shirts. Even the workers have orange-red and silver-green scarves. I had no idea this many Hogwarts house ties were even in existence. The people without wands are the losers.

And although I somewhat disdain this movie for starting the trend of splitting a movie into two 10+ dollar tickets, I'm sad it's the last, really. Even the fact that this is the last time to get Potter merch without having to back-order it has me feeling a little nostalgic. It's the end of an era, or at least the beginning of the end of it. The movies have been decent, but man those books are gold. Since others have written much better and more meaningful tributes than I, I'll keep it short and leave you with my favorite quote of the movie, bar "NOT MY DAUGHTER...!" In the wise words of Albus Dumbledore:

"Words are, in my not-so-humble opinion, our most inexhaustible source of magic. Capable of both inflicting injury, and remedying it." --Albus Dumbledore

-Will

Land of the Free

2011-06-19T20:09:00.000-07:00

Well, it's technically July 5th, but I'm still feeling very patriotic. America rocks. Since we got here a few weeks ago, I've been able to catch up with friends, I've eaten a ridiculous amount of fast food, and the feeling that I've probably met every white person I see is finally wearing off. I thought that, since I've been blessed enough to be here for the past few summers and I'm used to being blown away by Walmart and having power again, that I'd share some of the less obvious impressions of the motherland.

#1
Milk
I drink milk as if it's the active antidote to some sort of poison a malicious, pet-stroking super-villain shot me up with a few days ago. I have a theory that that's the reason I have never broken a bone. Also because I am not active.

#2
Smells
Let me put it this way-- In America, everything smells good to a certain extent, all the time, and occasionally there's a skunk or something and it smells terrible. In Africa, the good smell is the abnormal smell.

#3
Netflix
I know I'm several years late to this party, but Netflix is officially the best thing since sliced bread. It has made my laptop and Xbox 360 into LOST machines, and I'm enjoying every second of it. Also, I'm only in Season 2, so no spoilers.

#4
Postal Service
Things ship fast. Crazy fast. When we ordered Halo: Reach, it arrived in Mass. on September 14th, a few weeks after we pre-ordered it, and we finally got it on October 1st, half a month later. That was a record turn-around-- mostly it's a much longer process. I ordered a few games a couple weeks ago and they were on the doorstep (in the mailbox) within 5 days.

#5
Cops
I enjoy seeing cop cars here, knowing that they almost definitely do not contain a corrupt Senegalese jerk. I hate Senegalese cops.

#7
Stress
There's no overarching sense of danger in every moment of life. That sounds several tads over-dramatic, I know, but it's one of the biggest differences in the two countries. Senegal's not a dangerous country (or wasn't when I left), but the whole feel is different. A trip to downtown Dakar is a seek, strike and destroy mission at best, but there are whole parks in Boston just waiting to be napped in. People go there for fun, not because they have to.

-Will

"How could I possible be expected to tolerate school on a day like today?"

I Get By...

2011-05-22T15:02:00.000-07:00

Since I came to DA, one of its many touts was that you could make good friends easily there. Students and alumni alike told horror stories along the lines of "it took me six months to even talk long with anybody" or "I connected with someone and then they blew me off the next day," begrudging the States (can you recognize a theme here?) for its shallow relationships. Yet three years into and 99% done with my stay in Dakar, I can honestly say that this, DA's proudest pander, was not at all the case for me.

I have friends, sure, but no one I'd call a best friend. I am completely different from the guy I hang out with the most, and we frequently wonder how we're friends at all, and then remember that we get on each other's nerves all the time. But even more so in the past few months, I've been kind of upset upon realizing how few meaningful friendships I've made since coming here.

Maybe it's just the After AP/Before Grad personas that many in my class have developed. One of my friends has pretty much gone insane, and he will be the first to tell you that. He has gone from a very responsible Student Body President and Sound Guy to a complete goofball, no longer applying himself academically and being crazy all the time. His math teacher actually asked his dorm parents about his well-being. It's not inherently a bad thing-- the guy had a busy year and needs a break, and I've already stated my opinion on Academic Senioritis-- but it definitely shows one end of the spectrum that my class now lays all over.

I was even further enlightened to this point last night when I caught up with a very good friend over Facebook and eventually Skype. While we used to be super close, I'll admit we haven't really talked in about a year-- even last summer, I only got to see her for a meager few minutes. So I was both thrilled and alarmed to discover how easy it was to talk again. In a lot of ways, it's as if we left 8th grade yesterday. It was an absolute pleasure reconnecting with her.

We had similar feelings towards several of our classmates, she actually answered the question "How's it going?" with more than one syllable, and I didn't have to draw out meaningful conversation like poison from a wound. And it was great to talk to someone who doesn't hate cats. It was amazing, but I wasn't used to it.

I think it's just for the same reason that DA alumni have trouble making friends in the States. I can't connect with people here because they aren't really American just like they can't connect with people in America because they aren't really African. I really didn't think the whole MK thing would be that schismatic of a trait, but here we are, three years later, and I still connect way better with my middle school friends than with the people I've been around for most of high school.

I guess the safest conclusion that can be drawn from this is that my middle school friends are freaking amazing. Cheers, Charter.

-Will

"What do I do when my love is away?
-Does it worry you to be alone?
How do I feel by the end of the day?
-Are you sad because you're on your own?"

The Beginning of the End of the Beginning of the Rest of our Lives

2011-04-22T15:23:00.000-07:00

In the past few weeks, academically at least, I have felt a significant onset of Senioritis.

Never during the year was school the worst part of my day-- even AP Lit, where I got by far the most homework, has run the gamut between entertaining to downright uproarious. Some times my day was only half over when school finished, and as the bell rang I dreaded the homework that would keep me up until the fairly wee hours of the morning. Now, though, it's becoming a lazy, homework-less blast.

Today's gallivant took place in Physics class. Since our teacher is the man, he gave us time to work on homework due at the end of class-- which I had all but completed. The last question was difficult, and I knew I had the others right. So I could choose one of two options: either finish Physics and perhaps diligently get ahead on AP World reading, or goof off the entire class. I resolved to let Senioritis wash over me.

I have rarely felt more like Jim Halpert.

One of the students, comically frustrated at the order in which our teacher, who we call The Bard Force, was dressing questions, wrote a priority list of students on the board. I was sauntering about the room when I was asked to write my friend Matt's name on the list. I decided to write "Matthew III." It was at this point in time the appointment schedule became much more than the appointment schedule it was intended to be.

Pretty soon, "Matthew III" became "Matthew III, son of Stephen, slayer of Ithgul, terror the north." My bizarrely-named artist friend Annieo became "Annieo, grand-daughter of the great Gertudyo, second cousin of the mighty Santa Claus, painter of triumphant landscapes and wielder of the Brush of Glory. My sign-language fluent, fencing acting buddy Leticia became "Leticia, lady of many faces, speaker of the hands, descendant of the famous Empress Wu, wielder of Glamdel, once held by Inigo the Avenger." This is what I did during Physics class.

The right half of the white board (With Leticia, lady of many faces writing down the histories)

And rhe left half

Now, several hours removed from the situation, it's it's a small deal. It's hardly even a deal of any size. It was just so entertaining at the time. I don't know why I listened to anyone saying Senioritis is a bad thing.

You know that feeling of the last few days before summer, where there's not much homework because of exams and no one really cares anymore? It's like that except for a month. Hopefully there are no repercussions.

-Will

"You're a reject of society." -Tanner
"I'm a reject of a Utopian society." -Taylor

Fear the Manbag

2011-03-07T15:08:00.000-08:00

A long time ago, in a little mom and pop store called Walmart, I bought an unassuming, black and red messenger bag from the on sale school supply aisle in preparation to go to Quebec High School (I had deemed my L.L. Bean backpack's wheels and carting handle a bit too unsightly for high school). I was under the impression that messenger bags were the bees knees.

I was correct. I now know from experience that man bags are, in fact, the bees knees.

Over times, this majestic murse not only earned a spot slung over my shoulder, but metamorphosed in both appearance and practicality. I soon added Jack Skellington, Quebec Rugby, 1up, and Watchmen patches to the outer flap and a few pins to the strap. And almost immediately, Mr. Manbag went from a school supply carrier to an all-around awesome satchel, carrying on a regular basis most of my life and occasionally moonlighting as a much-too-large "personal item" on flights to America.

The bag, at optimum capacity and full usefulness, carries my planner, two notebooks, and a script, with various loose pieces of paper. Just ask anyone who spoke to me from mid-December to January 12th how important to me my planner is-- those were the dark days that it was lost. Any major event and homework assignment is inscribed in those pages-- with a planner and I might be described as slightly forgetful, without one I become a younger but just as frayed man-bag toting version of the abhorrent Uncle Billy from "It's a Wonderful Life."

Above, left: Uncle Billy, or: The guy who ruins everything

Lost even more frequently (this time ask my drama teach) are my scripts. There's been a script to a play or musical almost constantly in there since sophomore year, and hopefully that streak will continue.

Last but not least are my notebooks. On is for work, stuffed with menus, to-do lists, and journalism articles, the other is for everything else, from quotes to blogs to ramblings to letters to whatever else. I'm not going to mince words. It's a journal. It is not, however, a diary. Those are for girls.

But like any good item of sentimental value, the sideways backpack is more than just the sum of its parts. This bag has been with me in Quebec, Africa, the States-- there and back and there and back again. I love it like I would a pair of good old shoes that have traveled with me forever , except no one's forcing me to throw it away, and I certainly hope I never grow too wide for that giant strap. Few material items have that kind of longevity coupled with such thorough use. You just have to respect it.

Anyway, I don't know what will become of my manly purse next year, other than it's definitely coming with me to college. My hope is that develops a blanky-to-Linus-esque connection to me. I just don't know what kind of sport-coat a messenger bag would make.

-Will

"Plus, it's not a man-purse, it's called a satchel. Indiana Jones wears one."

Senior Cafe: Two Parts Stress, Three parts Awesome

2011-02-27T15:51:00.000-08:00

One again, the days start getting longer, the power cuts continue, and the weak-sauce winter comes to a close. Actually, the power cuts were supposed to quit in November, but the calendar also clued me into the event this weekend.

Senior Cafe.

For those who have understandably forgotten my description last year, it's a big talent show fundraiser the Seniors put on. Previous Hall of Fame acts include lip synching to "Numa Numa," laying down some phat beats with the McDonalds rap, and of course air banding "More Than a Feeling." The lead air guitarist was kickin'.

This year, though, "the Seniors" is us. More specifically, the President is me. So things were a little more complicated than last year's single costume change from air bander to awkward Swedish singer.

It was a crazy week for sure, making tiki torches from scratch, moving couches for coffeehouse seating, collecting cakes, etc, but it actually went pretty well. And the night was a blast-- I figure if the people running it have fun something must be going right.

My Vice President also accidentally swallowed some gas when siphoning from one generator to another (the power cut). Good thing MKs know to drink milk immediately because I still have a very loose grasp on the concept of acids and bases. I have a feeling it's really simple. So Tanner, VP, gets the night's MVP award. I won't go into how much he and my English teacher helped out, but they did. A ton. Thanks guys.

Of course, Past Will though it was a great idea to also be in three acts, because just running it is too simple. I have to give him some credit, though-- that number was originally six. My favorite though, beating out a barbershop quartet singing "That's What Friends Are For" from The Jungle Book and Chamber Choir singing "The Longest Time" by Billy Joel, was my friend Jear Bear and I's cover of "Tribute" by Tenacious D.

In a lot of ways, it was a culmination of my very short and trivial musical career. Who knows? Someday it may blossom into a full-fledged, international Jack Black cover band. I can only dream.

This was, not most but very importantly, our last fundraiser as a class. A lot has changed from the "dis-unified" sophomore class from two years ago. I, honestly, love our class, even though we have a human excuse and a few slackers in it. It's gonna be weird not having them all in one place.

Getting everyone together for reunions is hard.

-Will

"This is the greatest and best song in the world."

Insert Random Acronym Here

2011-02-22T14:31:00.000-08:00

Time for another DA culture lesson.

WAIST (West African Invitational Softball Tournament) is an annual, 3-day-long event so thoroughly American that they actually have a giant red white and blue tent. I bet you'd be hard pressed to find a massive flag-tent in most states.

I've had very varying experiences in the past few years. When I first got here, I wasn't on a team, and the weekend was a big breath of fresh, American, country music, swearing air. For the record, I hate country music, but come on, it's softball. Peace corps teams make up the majority of the social bracket. These are people who live out in the boonies don't have to worry about power cuts because they don't have any to begin with. They're the ones who are for real in mud huts. So, understandably, the one weekend in six months that they get not only free, but to spend with other Americans serving all over this side of the continent, gets a little crazy.

Long story short, it's hard to lose to them after about 11:00 am, because by that time most of them are pretty hammered. They're what made and make WAIST for me, though-- not only are they hilarious, but speaking to American strangers in English is a splendid experience if you're used to stumbling through basic greetings in French. The fact that the concession stands had copious amounts of American candy didn't hurt either.

The last year, softball ruined it for me. The way it used to go is that if two DA teams did well enough to play on Monday, no one had school this year our awesome director just said no school automatically-- he's the man). Since I was on a team, and most other DA teams were clearly not going to be able to hold up the "do well" end of the bargain, our team had a lot of pressure to win. Which is really not the point of the weekend at all. Also Dad told me I was in trouble on Saturday morning and didn't tell me what it was about until Monday night. And then it wasn't actually a huge deal. It just hung over my head for a few days.

2011 lacked the wow factor of the first time but was overall more fun. Even though we didn't play any peace corps teams until Monday (I heard they asked to not play us 'cause we weren't fun to play--see above paragraph) I played on a thrown together nonsense team that played for the heck of it. This is WAIST at its finest. And we actually won the social league, so we got to take home an awkwardly proportioned African trophy as well.

And with that taste of America, we're in the home stretch for the real deal.

-Will

"A place where the beer flows like wine, and beautiful women flock like the salmon of Capistrano."

I Like to Move It- Part 2

2011-01-04T12:25:00.000-08:00

I posted part one about two years ago. And you thought I forgot about part two.

So today I started packing for college. That's a weird thing to think about, isn't it?

And, though moving day is still a good six months away, since senior year so far has been very lacking in the free time department and the last month of it is a storm of grad parties, receptions, and banquets, I figured I might get some work done now.

Two things struck me as I've started to sort and pack. The first was how much complete junk I managed to sneak over to Africa with me. The idea was that we all purge a bit but that really didn't happen with me. I don't really know what I thought I was going to do with a bag full of scrap booking supplies, a chunk of welcome mat from my old band director's platform, or an empty box for a plastic guitar, but they all made the trip and none of 'em are baking it back.

The second realization was that it was difficult. I'm not going to try and start the "home" argument/discussion/pontification just yet, but there's no denying that ripping my beloved posters off the walls for the nth time felt more meaningful than I expected. I do love our house, and my room is pretty awesome even after JD made it smell like cat, but a small part of me still does and maybe always will consider it a pit stop between two American checkpoints. That part was silent when I stood in yet another room that has had my posters put up and taken down in.

I guess I'm not really sure what I expected was going to happen at the end of this year. I suppose I've thought of it as just another summer trip back to the States in some ways-- pack up some clothes and leave most of my stuff behind. But it doesn't really work like that.

This may be harder than I expected.

-Will

"Echoes and silence, patience and grace. All of these moments I'll never replace."

Tidbits: The Cops

2010-12-29T16:18:00.000-08:00

There are some parts of Africa that I have gotten used to (read: experience without thinking to blog about.) The police force is one of these.

The cops in Africa are generally terrible people. Their number one activity is standing on the edge of roads and checking paperwork in (white people's) cars. In the city, the the middle of the month, if you have your papers in order, they let you on their way. Outside the city, especially near the end of the month when the rent is due, if you're papers are in order, they will find some absurd reason so give you a ticket.

Today they said we didn't stop at the sign to look for a train crossing when the sign was 20 feet in front of the tracks, making it impossible to actually see down them. Maybe it's too many people in a car. Maybe they say your car is overloaded with baggage-- in a city where this is a pretty common sight.

(Not my picture, but you get the idea)

If you get a ticket, they confiscate your driver's license, and you have to find some small building, in some random town on the highway, wait in line for a long time, pay them, get another ticket, and return to the cop that gave you the first one in exchange for the license. Of course, the friendly neighborhood cops could help you out by collecting the fine there, and putting it in his pocket.

If you've actually done something wrong, then it really hits the fan. It's the kind of situation where one might reasonably decide to just take the jail time instead of trying to reason with the African judicial system in any way, shape, or form.

There may be a single lone ranger, tame-the-Wild-West kind of a guy going through the city and cracking down on crime. But no one's ever seen him.

And this is in a good African country.

-Will

"Don't take no for an answer?! He was gonna call the fuzz."

Every Time a Bell Rings

2010-12-24T16:32:00.000-08:00

Here's a review of "It's a Wonderful Life I did for the school newspaper, which ended up not coming out because of all the power cuts. Hopefully I did this movie some justice.

Since it never snows here, and this year it’s not even pleasant out, I’ve really appreciated the other, less weather-dependant events that signal the arrival of Christmas. Setting up the plastic tree is entertaining, as is making sure every branch is bent to reach maximum realism. Christmas cookies are delicious. Who can help belting “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” at some point in December? Near the top of the list, though, come the Christmas movies, and reigning supreme among those has to be “It’s a Wonderful Life.”

Starring Donna Reed, and Jimmy Stewart’s in arguably his best and most famous role, “It’s a Wonderful Life” is about the life of a truly selfless man (Stewart) and a fateful night where his world seemingly comes crashing down and he contemplates suicide. Hopefully most have seen it, but if you haven’t, I’ll leave it at that.

Every character from Mr. Gower to Zuzu is well-played, but Jimmy Stewart goes from bliss to depression to insanity and back again in a convincing way that you can watch year after year and still be amazed by.

Even the bad guy is excellent. Mr. Potter is less iconic but more evil than Vader. It’s rare that any villain be portrayed as so thoroughly rotten, but Potter is one that you abhor more by the year.

And to cap it all off—it’s funny. Really funny. Normally humor has the shelf life of bread, but somehow a film made in 1946 makes me annually laugh out loud. I know exactly what they’re going to say, yet the situations (pool under the gym floor, anyone?), the endearing (seriously—Jimmy Stewart is incredible), and the lines themselves (“No man is a failure who has friends”), prove timeless.

However, it has a tendency to fall into one of those book cover judging deals—it’s in black and white (don’t bother with the colorized version), and the sound quality is less than stellar, but let me assure you that has nothing to do with the quality of the movie. Don’t write it off because it wasn’t ever converted into 3D.

The movie is not only entertaining but filled to the brim with moral values. Right from the beginning of the movie George Bailey is shown willing to sacrifice for the good of others, and the value placed on human life as a God-given gift has rarely been seen, if ever, in a movie this popular since then.

It’s really got everything: a loveable protagonist, a truly evil villain, romance, comedy, and a whole heap of wholesome. As far as movies go, and especially at Christmas, you can’t go wrong with “It’s a Wonderful Life.”

Merry Christmas!!

-Will

"Remember, George: no man is a failure who has friends."

Never Thought I'd Be So Happy to See a Toilet Seat

2010-11-28T13:32:00.000-08:00

DA culture lesson #42: Outreach
Usually twice a year, about 130 students and staff go out to an African village for a weekend and separate into teams to build a church, run drama and VBS skits, run a simple medical clinic, make benches, and sing on evangelism campaigns. Showers and toilets are holes and buckets.

First off, I want to give a disclaimer. This is the only "African" thing I do in Africa. I'm not gonna lie, most of the life the other students at DA and I is spent in the semi-comfortable DA bubble that consists of the school and the small surrounding area (I just couldn't bring myself to type regular-comfortable right then.)

On outreach weekend though, we pack up a couple of big, white, beat up buses called ngagen ngais (pronounced something like jaggen jais) to the brim and pretty much drive to the middle of nowhere. Not quite Timbuktu, that's in the next country over, but the sort of area you might picture it to be. Lots and lots of sand, baobab trees lining the horizon, villages with thatched roofs and not running water or power, we're talkin' the whole nine African yards.

Then we proceed to spend the next couple of days becoming as dirty as one can possibly be. Add cement, sand, mud, lots of unfiltered water to wash with to a teenage dude and you have anyone coming back from outreach who was on foundation. If they were on drama, switch cement with face paint. For benches, think sawdust. I don't even wanna talk about medical.

At night it's time for (sometimes group) bucket showers and an excursion to a Turkish toilet, which sounds much fancier than it actually is. Just in case you don't know (I didn't before I came out here), it's a fancy hole in the ground. Hence the title of the post. After that, we go out even further into nowhere and sing a bunch of songs in something like four or five different languages. On the way back, there's a really good chance a van will get stuck, so the guys get out and push or haul it out of the sand. On Saturday we do it again. On Sunday we head back to Dakar after a two to three hour church service.

While this description may sound kind of negative, the time actually manages to somehow seem almost fun. It's not something I would do for the specific purpose of fun, but it's definitely there. Even though it's gross, tiring, and time-consuming, it's not without positive elements. It's the only time all year I get to see stars-- and man could I see stars, they were amazing. I really enjoy the singing in the evenings. Having a tent filled with Halo Gang members was a blast.

Probably the most interesting things about outreach though surprises me every time I've gone (which is only two at this point). Without fail, and especially this weekend, I experience serious but super-late culture shock. Riding on the back of a pick up truck while the purple-red sun sets on a sparse savanna and a group of birds fly by makes me realize "Holy crap I'm living in Africa" in a way that a city, no matter how un-American, can't. The fact that I'm living on the same continent as lions has probably hit my friends and family in the States more than it's hit me-- I've noticed the effects more than the fact itself.

This is really comforting to me, in a way. Culture shock inherently means that I'm not entirely comfortable here, and though I've grown to appreciate Senegal and DA, and will definitely miss it when I graduate, I still don't think it should feel like home. Call me stubborn, but I don't know that Africa will ever be my "normal." But hey, if "abnormal" is anything like outreach, I'm totally okay with it.

-Will

"Where it began, I can't begin to knowin', but then I know it's growin' strong."

Here, Football is Played by Men

2010-07-12T18:28:00.000-07:00

There's an episode of Spongebob where Squidward gets sick of where he lives and goes to a wonderful city made just for his kind. There's a part in that episode where Squidward accidentally bumps into another squid and they insult each other for a minute. Then the other one walks away, and Squidward (with a huge smile on his face) says "This place is even better than I expected!"

Yesterday, as I was walking around downtown Boston with my bros, after the world cup final ended, and heard a loud honking. We looked down the street and saw some guy with upwards of 4 Spanish flags waving from his sports car, pumping his fist and holding his horn down while he drove. This of course was the "Avengers, Assemble!!" call for pissed off Bostonians, and by the time he passed us there was a veritable wall of middle fingers, a wave of expletives, and many yelled "we don't care about soccer" comments.

It's good to be home.

Even when we were honked at profusely for crossing the street while the light was red, I had a huge smile on my face. I feel bad that rudeness and dislike of soccer is the first thing I've written about during my very enjoyable and lucky trip to America, but I can't tell you how refreshing it is to see at least the end of the world cup from my homeland's perspective and not from the rest of the soccer-loving world. The fact that for every one guy sitting in one of the city's countless pubs watching the game there were four outside walking past indifferently is a huge deal.

At the end of the episode, Squidward gets sick of his new home, goes insane, and rides a leafblower into the sky. I doubt that after 15 years and two summers that will happen.

But I do love leafblowers.

-Will

"He says that illegal Mexican immigrants are taking jobs that Americans don't want anyway. I didn't know you could get paid to watch soccer."

Graduation

2010-06-14T18:46:00.000-07:00

When I left America to "learn french" in Quebec, one mental wall I had to break down (with the sort of mental sledgehammer I suppose we all develop,) was the fact that I was not the only one who moved on.

Moved on literally-- I moved to another country, then to another continent, so it was easy for me to mentally separate middle school from high school. I wasn't the only one who graduated (from 8th grade,) everyone else got that middle school diploma and went out to face many different high schools. I could ramble for paragraphs about how people have moved on in the "now I hate all of our old friends" or "now I think drugs are just okay" sort of way, what I'm talking about is how none of my Charter friends go to Charter any more.

It was weird to think about. What really bummed (and bums) me out is that there was no longer a way to see all of these people in one place. Many I knew I'd see again, but there's no way I could hunt down and spend time with each person individually, and there's also no way I would want to see everyone anyways. Lot of bad blood in those seedy 8th grade classrooms, ya know? Not really though.

And now it's happening again. With the passing of this year's 8th grade class there is really no students I know at the school any longer. When I went back to Charter after my year in Quebec I was surrounded by kids I was in choir, the play, band, basketball, etc. with. Now if I could make a journey, during school, the only people I'd know would be the teachers, and few of those who I actually knew still remain.

And then we have Quebec. I miss those guys. I met a lot of great people in Quebec, none of whom I'm good about keeping in touch with, and thanks to that alien Canadian school system, my class graduated this year. Congratulations to them, first of all, but since I had lots of acquaintances and few real friends there-- I was only there a year, after all-- it'd be hard to see everyone I would want to again. Because no one goes to QHS anymore, they're all in a manner of different CEGEPs or whatever you guys call 'em.

So, to all the acquaintances whom I've enjoyed meeting but never took the time to become friends with-- I'm sorry. We may never meet again, but I'll miss you.

-Will

"Can't repeat the past?…Why of course you can!"

Another Round of Goodbyes

2010-06-04T17:25:00.000-07:00

Okay, before I get started...

DA culture lesson 65: The Wailing Wall
This is the wall on one side of the outdoor basketball court where the seniors line up every year at the end of grad for final goodbyes. The "wailing" part should be pretty self-explanatory.

DA culture lesson 74: Departure
For some reason or another, 90% of DA parents, students, and teachers have left the country by the weekend two days after grad. Why everyone leaves this quickly is beyond me.

I was going to title this one "3/4ths of the Way Done," but when I thought about what I was actually going to say, I realized that really wouldn't have been fitting. Because even though all freshman year I was thinking "only 3 more years and I'll be in America," a my goal sophomore year was just to survive (which I did,) when I was reflecting on my first year as an upperclassmen, I saw that my perspective had changed. I wasn't entirely sure I wanted this year to end.

Don't get me wrong-- I was looking forward to Junior-hosted banquet to be over (which it is,) for my homework load to drop to "eat, sleep, video games" (which it has,) and for exams to go well. I haven't gotten my scores for them, so I can't comment on them. But saying goodbye to some staff, the seniors, and one graduating girl in particular has been and will be hard.

For instance, a math teacher who came when I did and has as rough or worse a transition. A history teacher who jumped of the roof with the guys and I for kicks. A french teacher who played Punch Out!! on his computer when we took tests. A gym teacher who almost got fired after dancing at a party she was supposed to be chaperoning. I've known these staff members ten times better than some of the people in my own class. What will the school be like without a few young teachers to stir the pot?

And then we have the seniors. I doubt I would have considered myself friends with anyone in the senior class at the end of last year, and here I am missing some of them already. What am I going to do without my fellow Bostonian Red Sox fan? Or my geek friend who I talk to about Zelda timelines with? Or any of my musical buddies? (Plus there's always my ex-wives and awkward make-up appliers.) Or my goofy, crazy bro? And don't even get me started on that girl. She needs a whole 'nother blog post.

Now I'm entirely sure I didn't want junior year to end. It was stressful at times, but in the end, I'd organize three more banquets to get another year with these guys. I'm going to miss you. I'll see ya when I see ya.

-Will

"Despite the fact that I'm not your teacher and I never was, this might be considered inappropriate. Rub my back right here."

Spring Break 2010

2010-04-05T11:13:00.000-07:00

So, school has started up again after a two week break and my brain has officially begun its rebuilding proccess. However, that isn't to say that I didn't learn anything over break.

I learned how to play Mexican train. I learned that the answer to life, the universe, and everything is 42, and that the secret to flying is throwing yourself at the ground and missing. I learned that my Halo skills have fallen considerably since the last Halo party. I learned that MagicTime, a Florida company who made a shipment to Dakar with for real peanut butter and (excellent) knockoff Lucky Charms, is the best company of all time.

I learned that sunscreen actually works, you just have to put it on first. Then I retested this lesson and proved it wrong. I learned that while the 5th Harry Potter book is the worst, the 5th Harry Potter movie rocks the casbah. From Dumbledore, I learned that a fiery head clap is a great way to make an exit. I learned that it's impossible to be good friends with someone of the opposite sex without everyone and their mother thinking you have ulterior motives. I learned that the defaults on Microsoft Word 2007 are awful. (I already knew this, but was reminded over break. If there's an option to automatically save backup copies of files, why isn't it automatically turned on? And has anyone, ever, for any reason intended to create a document with 11 point Calibri font with 10 point spacing after lines?!)

Most importantly I learned this: the only way to fully appreciate a lazy, relaxing vacation is having a school year that is crazy busy and maybe even, dare I say it, occasionally stressful. Junior year has been significantly more packed than my last two years of high school combined, and it only gets worse from here on out. Today went by minute by minute, but looking at my planner, I know that this quarter will be over the day after tomorrow. Add up a musical, lots of SAT prep, Junior-Senior Banquet, planning and asking someone to Junior-Senior banquet, finals, the Halo: Reach beta, a youth group retreat, goodbyes to Seniors, and of course the accelerated, end of the year, finish-the-textbook pace that all classes will now operate on, then you've got what I'd call a booked schedule.

Spring break was great. It was lazy, sure, and there were days where I did nothing but sit on my butt, play video games, and watch movies. But this time around, moreso than previous vacations, I felt like I'd earned it. Okay, maybe not the Jack Black movie, Office, and Harry Potter marathons. At least of of them though.

-Will

"I think I pulled a muscle in my upper neck!!"

Care Package

2010-03-24T17:39:00.000-07:00

I am sipping root beer right now. And now I'm just smelling it, letting the aroma of it waft into my nose like the smell of root beer wafting into one's nose. It is fantastic. How and why do I have root beer? Because I have awesome friends.

I came home at midnight tonight (it's spring break over here) expecting to go to bed after a long day of sitting on my butt and watching a Harry Potter movie marathon. Yet there was much unforeseen sipping of heavenly drinks to take place.

Carlen and Marina and Mrs. and Mr. Smoske are now on par with that awesome Ohio church that sends us Christmas presents every year. And Awesome Ohio Church, to me, is on a very high level. After a trip through the wonders of the African postal service, I got the care package they sent me. It was not only filled with a score of American lollipops, but with a dozen A&W root beers, a pair of sweet books, as well as what has potential to be the greatest movie of all time movie from Tim. It's pretty late, and I keep giving the characters in the comic book British accents- 14 hours of Harry Potter would do things to any man. Because of this, I'm going to stick with the food for now, but by golly it's swell.

All this to say one thing. Thank you. Very very very much. This was a fantastic day for it to arrive. It's hard to explain the feeling of receiving a dozen root beers by mail, and I will go out on a limb by saying that it's almost worth not being able to get root beer for said feeling. Not quite, but almost. Slices of home are really what keep me going, and you just served me like a pie of home. You know who you are. I love your pies. Thank you for them.

-Will

"This care package is friggin' awesome"
-Me, 30 seconds ago

Senior Cafe

2010-02-22T13:41:00.000-08:00

I am bummed. But not as bummed as I was last night. This weekend, among other things, was the weekend of Senior Cafe. At Dakar Academy, that roughly translates to "Annual Talent Show," which is put on by the seniors. Each year has a theme, last year's was space, this year's was "Night at the Library," etc. That sounds wicked lame on paper but somehow they made it pretty awesome. "Talent Show" isn't an exact translation though, because generally the winners are the crowd pleasers, not the ones with actual talent. If only that was the case this year.

Me and my bros Jon, Joe, and Lee had been panning our act since June of last year. Planning may be too strong a word, but suffice to say that by October we knew we were going to air band (like air guitar with the full ensemble) Boston's More than a Feeling. This is arguably the greatest air banding songs ever, as proven by Turk's Cool Cats in Scrubs.

So for the past week we got in practices around several sports and a play to work on our stage presence and killer moves to said tasty song, and on Friday night it was time to show the world what we were made of- air.

Looking back, our contrived costumes were both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, Joe's inconceivably tight, borrowed-from-a-girl jeans got some major applause. On the other, juxtaposing 80's rock fashion onto a modern setting, and a library-themed one at that, meant that at best we looked like Napoleon Dynamite's older brother and at worst we looked like convicted sexual predators.

But when we got up on stage, and the lights turned on, I lost it. In a good way. The music was cranked and my fingers glided across the imaginary guitar slung in front of me. I duck walked, windmilled, and headbanged before the solo even began. The audience was into it, clapping and cheering as if we could actually play music. When the solo finally kicked in, I, if I may say, rocked the casbah. On the last high note I power slid a good couple feet to what to me was the loudest cheering all night. Plus, I could tell by the overall pitch of the cheer that the ladies were really digging my bushy sharpie moustache.

We finished to some fantastic applause and came of stage in a volley of chest bumps and high fives. We were both pumped an pleased to the point that we were looking for encore songs in case we won (we landed on "We Will Rock You.") I have rarely been so optimistic about winning anything. By the time they started announcing winners, we were in ready stance to book it towards the stage. In 3rd was "The Worst Music Video Ever," a parody of a Finnish music video from some decade no one wants to remember. I was actually in that one, but I don't wanna talk about it. My partner was my 60 year old Bible teacher.

2nd place went to a girls trio who sang "Tattoo," which, like I mentioned before, was filled with talent, so people were pretty shocked that it won anything. And finally, First place goes to...

The Junior Girls rendition of "Hoedown Throwdown" by Miley Cyrus.

I would be more bitter about this, being beat by someone who gained fame through the Disney Channel and all, except for the fact that my awesome math teacher was the lead lip synchist and did a fantastic job. Never knew she had it in her.

Anyways, we were pretty devastated. I couldn't be sure but I think I saw a tear come to our bassist's eye. After a few minutes of shock we decided that we would win on Saturday night, and rationalizing always helps things.

So on Saturday we assemble our costumes once more, plan another stage move or two, and eventually get up on stage one more time. This time Lee had talked with the guys doing lights so they got the light flashing and a spotlight going. Props to them for that, because if anything could've pumped me up more than I already was, it was flashy lights.

So, again, the winners were announced. In 3rd...More Than a Feeling by the Cool Cats. Well, okay. 3rd is decent. My brother's magic act came in 2nd, and he practiced way more than us, so I'm okay with that. 1st place, however, annoyed me. Not because it wasn't good- it was- but it was because they cheated. The Korean dorm's choreographed dance number blatantly ignored the rules of play.

There was no way that four teenaged dudes, even at our best, could compete with that. Just you wait 'til next year, adorable little Korean girl. Then you'll see. The Cool Cats never stop believin'.

-Will

"He smoked a big cigar and drove a Cadillac car, and said 'Boys, I think this band's outta sight.'"

The Good Ol' Days

2009-12-29T12:34:00.000-08:00

I've decided to do something new. Instead of doing the usual, and making witty comments on events I've recently participated in, I'm going to recount past experiences and make witty comments about them. You may not like it, but that doesn't matter. When you have a blog, you can make the decisions.

It was the end of the 6th grade school year, the first year we had a substantial class trip. Overnight, and several days long, it was finally time to go to Nature's Classroom. Looking back, that sounds not only lame but educational. However, it was a big deal to is 12-year-olds, and I'll admit, even the scheduled activities during the day turned out to be a lot of fun. But I'm not here to talk about the day. I'm going to tell you about what happened after hours- when the wolves howled, the hockey players left, and the real pranksters came out of the woodwork.

I'll go ahead and use different last names. This is the internet, after all.

On our left, Mr. Pachter, our art teacher at the time, and Mr. Golden, our Math teacher. On our right, Mrs. O'Cooper, teaching History and English. There were other chaperones, but they don't matter.

On multiple occasions, feeble attempts were made by not only Mrs. O'Cooper, but her female minions as well, to prank the guy cabin. Such attempts included tying our shoes together and throwing them in the shower, and, my personal favorite, asking a couple guys to plant a rubber frog in Mr. Golden's bed, assuming the would defect and become double agents. Of course, they showed our math teacher the frog, and informed him of the attempt on his bed. It was at that moment, looking at Mr. Golden, I could see the cogs beginning to turn. Majestic, mischievous cogs.

At lunch that day, both our art and math teachers were nowhere to be seen. They went out to lunch, or so they said. It was our final day at Nature's Classroom, and needless to say, we were antsy. We had no clue that Golden and Pachter hadn't just gone out for a burger; the thought that they would be the masterminds behind the greatest prank of 6th grade evidently never crossed our minds. How naïve we were.

It wasn't until that night that the ball started to roll...although our bros Mac and Jonny left to go to a hockey tryout, and missed the festivities. Yet, soon after they took off, our teacher chaperones unveiled three fateful white bags. In 2 of them, XXXL, whitey-tightie brand whitey-tighties. In the 3rd? At least a dozen Hershey's chocolate bars. Use your imagination.

We spent the next 20 minutes, each with our very own pair, artfully, tastefully, and with the utmost care, skid marking them. Yes, with the chocolate bars. The next 10-15 minutes were devoted to planning our attack- this was no run n' gun sudicide mission. This was a well-thought-out tactical strike, with precision rivaling that of a heist spearheaded by Danny Ocean. There were two levels, connected only by an outdoor staircase, strategically perfect for undie-throwing. We split into two task forces, synchronized our watches, and all 14 of us silently snuck out of our cabin and up the camp hill.

When we got to the girls accommodations, Pachter and Delta Squad headed up the stairs. Golden, Alpha Squad and I lined up in front of the ground floor door, shortest to tallest for optimal firing position. After we counted to 10, we opened the door with a war cry at the same time Delta did on the 2nd floor, and all Hell broke loose. Underwear rained upon the opposing gender in a its soiled glory. Some used the slingshot technique, stretching the waistband with the thumb and flinging them as high-speed cotton projectiles. As Tim later recalled; "Hasn't Captain Underpants taught us anything?" I myself went with a cannonball effect, throwing my pair balled up. The last thing I saw before power-walking back to our base was opening up like a parachute and landing gently and peacefully on someone's face.

The rest of the night went predictably, mostly consisting of us being nervous, expecting retaliation. This manifested itself in our setting up booby traps in and around the stairwell to alert us of an attack. You can imagine our fear and near-pants-wettedness when we heard brooms and ironing boards being carelessly knocked over, closer and closer to our position, as well as our relief as Mac and Jonny triumphantly returned from hockey. The next morning at breakfast the girls presented to Mr. Golden a very pink, very decorated pair of the very same underwear used against them last night. Their creative-but-weak comeback further cemented our legacy- we had got 'em. We had got 'em good.

-Will

"Swimmers go out! The waves go up, not down!"

Cry of the Nazgul

2009-12-07T12:23:00.000-08:00

My bedroom is at the end of the hallway on the second floor. I have my own bathroom, which JD, my cat, sleeps in when I'm in bed. The only way to see JD is to go through my bedroom and visit him in his bathroom.

It's 10:15 a.m. I wake up groggily to the sound of 6-8 immensely cheerful, and noisily so, 8 year old girls down the hallway. Deciding to lie in bed and snooze a few more minutes, I suddenly hear one of them scream "Let's go see JD!" and the pitter-patter of several pairs of feet booking it towards my door. Heart beating out of my chest, and obviously not in attire fit for a meet-and-greet, I throw myself under my blankets and assume the fetal position. As the doorknob turns and the door opens a sliver, barely containing all the children bent on petting a cat, Anna screams "No! Don't go in there!" God bless you, Anna.

Just a few minutes later they're all out on the trampoline, jumping, and continuing to stagger-scream so that there is not one discernible moment of silence. I need to go to the bathroom, and foolishly choose the water closet closest to the front door to do my business. I am actively going to the bathroom when they all come in and the light switch clicks to what someone assumed to be on. The door opens even farther than before (but not far enough) and stops as I yell "I'm in here! I'm in here! I'm in here!"

All of this to say one thing- A lot of people thought that when I'd go to Africa, I'd be living in a mud hut, getting malaria every other week, and fighting lions off to get to school. While I don't mind the assumption (none of those are true, by the way,) two of the most traumatic experiences of my life in Africa so far have been Anna's 7th and 8th birthday parties.

-Will

"How 'bout some many spray?!"

Who You Gonna Call?

2009-11-14T08:48:00.000-08:00

I just sat through the movie Eagle Eye. It was pretty awesome... I think. It wasn't one to hold any punches... I think. I say this because I don't currently consider myself as one who has actually watched Eagle Eye. Why? Because the freshman running the movie night had a Cussbuster, or as my not-from-the-South-or-Midwest-like-everyone-else-here dialect would put it, a Swearbuster. Let me explain.

To those who have never even heard of a swearbuster before, prepare to be initiated in the ways of hyperconservative movie going. In theory, a swearbuster connect to a DVD player and cuts out the audio when it detects a naughty word. Depending on who you ask, it's either unnecessary censorship or the completely necessary protection of fragile, warpable little minds. I lie in the "happy medium" camp, and think they're very annoying, but understand that some people sue and withdraw their kids from schools over this kind of crap.

The box of the Swearbuster boasts the number it censors in several major movies, for instance, "Spiderman- 13." Aside from the fact I counted roughly 4 a-words in Spiderman, what the packaging conveniently neglects to mention is that it also censors half of the rest of the movie.

This little box reads the subtitles of the movie (even when they're not on,) and when it finds a swear of any kind, it shuts out audio for several seconds before and after the point it thinks that swear is. So we don't get "What the...is going on here?!" We get 7 seconds of the lead detective yelling silently, possibly about some major event, although who knows? Maybe he's yelling "These pretzels are making me thirsty!" in a way that some could be offended by.

The thing sees a bad word and just shotguns it, knocking out lines, scenes, heck, depending on the movie, entire plot lines could cease to exist. So you could imagine my chagrin when the movie had started, several behind-the-scenes shots of some important military operation had passed, a man with many medals asked "What do we do?!" over the phone, and I was greeted with silence as a man walking down a hallway mouthed, presumably, WHAT THEY SHOULD DO.

So I would love to tell you what I thought about Eagle Eye, I can't. I only heard half of it.

-Will

"If you're . Because if I don't get some good leads soon, "

Memory Lane

2009-09-15T14:27:00.000-07:00

So I have this DS case. Originally a menacing silver metal mini-suitcase, since then lightened up with Guitar Hero and Mario sticker, this case does more than your average DS case. Though it does contain the usual multicolored styli, various small pieces of technology I don’t trust myself to store anywhere else, and DS games (no, the DS doesn’t fit anymore,) this cases upper, concealed compartment is where the real treasure lies. For about 4 years now, I’ve kept every mostly-flat piece of memorabilia in the top flap of this case.

Every 8 months or so I get the urge to rummage through this wonderful mesh pocket, and since the entire case was bulging from the extra it recently gained (it’s not the only one,) I felt it was high time to go through it again. Maybe it’s the fact that I have homework to put off, or that we haven’t had power for 6 hours and I have nothing better to do, but this time I felt compelled to write some of the experience down. And what better place to document some of my most private and cherished thought, feelings, and memories than the internet.

Here’s an (incomplete) list of what I found, in no order:

1. Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess trading cards
-I am the only person I know geeky enough to spend money on these.

2. Laser tag score cards
-These are from Bond’s birthday party 3 years ago. My name on one of them is “Fat Elvis.” Well-played, technology.

3. A taped-up, unmarked white envelope
-I was initially confused by this until I looked at it through the light and saw two words: “Hair Expressions.” Then it hit me. It was part of my mane. Yes, indeed, my Fabio-like locks of the most gorgeous hair this side of the Atlantic. I said then I would keep some, and keep it I shall.

4. a Pink Floyd sticker
-From Tim, years ago. If I’m not mistaken, it’s from their 1st American tour. Thanks man.

5. An Isabella’s Subs menu
-Just thinking about a steak and cheese makes my mouth water, and the rest of my body is currently watering enough as it is, so I’ll leave you all with that pleasant thought and try not to remember the heavenly deliciousness that is Isabella’s Subs.

6. A Meldiva’s menu
-a ghost of downtown Franklin’s past. RIP.

7. Quebec bus schedules
-For the 86, 12, and 60 buses, just in case you were wondering. I can’t say “good times,” per ce, but there were definitely some…quirky ones.

8. 2 songs, written (and illustrated) for me
-by David and Tim, presented at my awesome going-away party. I don’t know if I ever thanked you guys for that, but it was more than I could ever ask for. Thank you.

9. A business card for “Stump Busters”
On the card: “Is your stump a pain in the grass?
So who ya gonna call
STUMP BUSTERS
‘I ain’t afraid of no stump’”
I you saw one of these on a gas station bulletin board in upstate New York, could you look me in the eyes and tell me you wouldn’t take it??

10. A business card to Mohawk Ambulance Service
-I just have this mental image of an ambulance full of ‘hawk-totin’ doctors. Same deal as #9.

11. Ticket to Gamerfest
-This was an amazing night. Hourmazd, Will, spectacular idea. A 24-hour energy drink and video game-filled all-nighter at the high school gym. Only at QHS, ladies and gentlemen.

12. Countless tickets
-Mostly from movies, also to various Sea Dogs games, the random coach bus ride, even on to an AC/DC concert.

13. Notes
-From everyone from Grandma to Edie, Casey to Mrs. Stepleton

14. Instructions to a “Video Game”
-From Amanda’s party in Quebec. Good times.

15. Goodbye speech from Isabel
-Even with all the weird Canadian word equivalents (Joe Louis??) reading this again made me sad. Isabel, if you’re reading this, I miss you, sorry I’m terrible at keeping in touch.

And most recently added:
Menu from Big G’s
Napkin from Gifford’s
Super Mario Galaxy Trading Cards (see #1)
5 Guys menu
Multiple mini golf score cards
Program from a piano recital
Even if you didn’t know what I was talking about half the time, I hope you’ve enjoyed reminiscing much as I have.

-Will

“Is everything the same as when I left, or has something catastrophic happened?”

If I had a Twitter and an iPhone...

2009-08-21T16:19:00.000-07:00

...This is what the posts would look like from August 10th- August 11th. I decided to write some of my thoughts down anyway, just for posterity. Go crazy.

2:55- Made it through checking and security by the skin of my teeth- questioned at checking, just made the 70.0 lb absolute limit, then my carry-on was checked by some guy there, but he liked my Mr. Incredible shirt so it's all good.

2:56-Watching the news

2:57- 2 beached whales in Florida...they said they'd "keep us posted." Place your bets!

3:00- Cops are handing out Target gift certificates in exchange for guns in Fresno. Of course, I don't think there were many drive-bys happening with that bolt-action WWII rifle he's inspecting...

3:05- The mother whale died, and the baby's being euthanized. Someone owes me 5 bucks.

3:25- Target! I get it!!

3:30- A flight to Chicago was seriously delayed. An employee had an impromptu PSA which included the phrase "And I will be on the plane, pushing and shoving if you don't go fast enough." Woo me, Delta.

4:24- Some congressman got mad at a doctor who made a health care comment during a meeting about a highway. The verb used has gone from "argues" to "yells" to screams." Oddly, this reminds me of when Dad gets mad at the Gamestop employees.

4:30- Just watched someone talk about a plane/helicopter crash in Newark, New Jersey. Thank God I'm not going there anytime soon...

5:00- Boarded plane, couldn't fit carry-on into overhead compartment for 5 minutes, had to empty outside pockets, mean old lady next to me scolded me for not checking it.

5:15- Old lady turns down offered ice water and ordered one without any ice.

5:17- Old lady turns receives said iceless water, takes two tiny sips, then throws it away. Takes all my willpower not to comment.

7:32- Hear alarm outside…so the questions are; are there car alarms on planes, and if so, was one just set off? Someone trying to hijack a plane while it was on the ground?

8:15- Just lugged 77.6 pounds of crap halfway across Newark airport (and back) to pick up my last McDonald’s meal- a double quarter pounder with cheese, a Dr. Pepper, and a large fry. Here’s to you, America.

9:21- Sitting on the plane, just got handed those funny headphones. Cabin door’s about to close…no turning back after that. At least no one’s playing “How to Save a Life” or “I Wanna Know Your Plans,” because then I’m not sure if I could take it.

10:15- Supposed to leave an hour ago, but we’ve just been hangin’ out on the ground…although I did find this intriguing except in SkyMall, concerning Sudoku. And I quote; “No maths required.” I’m no English teacher, but that doesn’t sound right.

10:30- Looking through the in-flight shopping magazine. One of the things I love about air travel is the arrangement of products they attempt to sell. I don’t care if it is duty-free, I just can’t see anyone buying an 80 dollar ballpoint pen during a flight.

10:35- Finally taxiing. Don’t even get me started on the stuff in the

actual airport…I could get "I heart NY" t-shirts at 4 for 10$ in the city, or 2 for $25 at Liberty Int'l. I also have no idea how all those "$100+ And Nothing Else" kiosks stay in business.

10:40- Took off, smells strongly of urine. I can already tell I’ve left the States. Zing!

11:00- I could sleep, or I could watch Star Trek. Responsible decision, or Star Trek. I don’t even need to say anything else.

12:10- I just love airplane censors. “Are you out of your Vulcan mind?!”

1:30- Star Trek was amazing, watching Scrubs… I’ll get to sleep at some point.

(Aaaaaand…Time change!)

11:45- Jostled awake on the ground in Paris, I probably got about 30 minutes of sleep. Oops.

12:00- Told I don’t have to reclaim my checked luggage! W00t!

12:10- I have to go through the incredibly long security line again, even though I haven’t left the airport. Good stuff, France.

12:30- I’ve been in the line for, honestly, 30 seconds, and about 10 people have cut me off. I hate Paris.

12:40- Of all the airports I’ve been to, and there have been quite a few, Charles De Gaulle is the only one that makes you empty all electronics (including chargers, and in this particular case, a VHS tape) from the bags going through security. My man purse has never gone from so full, to so empty, and back again, in so short a time.

3:30- Meet British 8th grader from DA. He got a pen with a camera hidden on it. ‘Nuff said.

7:33- Just watched a whole bunch of Friends episodes. Tried to watch House but it made me sick to my stomach. He’s wicked funny and all, but the girls’ skin was falling off. Who decided that, “yeah, this is entertaining and fun to watch.”

7:35- We’re flying through coulds, I wish I could take a picture of this view. A red sunset, clouds above and below us, and a serene ocean. A fitting end to an incredible summer.

7:40- Just touched down in Dakar. A huge “Thank You” to everyone who made this past couple of months possible.

7:41- And so begins the next 2 years in Africa.

-Will

“You know, I love chocolate, but whenever I get a bag of these, it just turns into a game of ‘Find the Krackles’”

Dave & Buster's

2009-07-20T21:19:00.000-07:00

Let me tell you about a magical place. It's arguably the pinnacle of American entertaiment, perfectly combining a resturant, a bar, and video games into a wonderful, majestic land. It's a place where people gather. It's a place where people eat, drink, and be merry. It's a place where you can have all the tootsie rolls you could ever desire-with the right amount of tickets. It's a place where you can find a businessman in a suit playing Guitar Hero with an acne-riddled, t-shirt wearing teenager. I'm talking, of course, about Dave & Buster's.

For the uninitiated, Dave & Buster's is a nationwide, yet few-and-far-between chain of arcade-esque businesses. I say "esque" because, as much as I love arcades, D&B's possesses a bit more class than the average quarter-sucker. It's not only a giant arcade, but also a resturant and a sports bar, complete with a billiards room. Instead of the normal "pocket full of change" system, they have credit cards you can charge, then swipe at each game. Not only does it make the process much easier, it makes the 2 dollars games less painful to play. And, like any self-respecting arcade does, there's a whole room where you can spend your hard-earned tickets on anything from giant gummy bears to an Xbox 360 to Dave & Buster's boxers (and yes, I own a pair.)

Me and Dave (and Buster) go way back. I've only been there a handful of times, since it is in Providence, and I do live in Africa, but every time has been amazing in its own, special way. In 6th grade, I went there for my birthday party with 3 guys who are my bros to this day. Last summer I went once more. There have been other, still awesome, yet less memorable visits. But tonight was a trip I definitely won't forget.

Last week, Drew, Sean and I attempted to pay a visit to this haven of delight, but alas, someone had rented the entire joint out for a party. When we came in and were handed a power card, then offered some hor d'oeuvres on a platter, the little red light went on. The place's got class, but not that much. We asked the guy at the counter to charge the "empty" cards, and he replied "Oh, that's more than you're ever gonna need." Now, looking back at it from his perspective, telling 3 teenage guys that they hold in their hand more credit than they could spend from 7-12 p.m. makes me incredibly curious as to how much was on the cards, but we handed them back and sheepishly walked out when they realized we had no idea what was going on.

Tonight, however, luck was on our side. We also called beforehand to make sure they were open, so I'm sure that helped too. We entered the premises, smelling burgers, fries, and over used buttons. How I love that smell. It may be because I know I'm sentenced to 2 years of "feces and sand" smell, but I paused and took it in for a few seconds. Marvelous. Needless to say though, we soon got our freshly-charged power cards (thank you, Mrs. Latham!) and headed into the wilderness of flashing lights and loud noises.

It was even better than I remembered. With additions like "Guitar Hero Arcade" and "Rambo," combined with old classics like "Tower of Power" and "Time Crisis 3," we had more than enough contenders to spend our night on. After about an hour of the fun shoot-em-ups and racing games, we felt it was time to get down to business and start bringing home the bacon with some ticket-spitters. Our old favorite, "Tower of Power" was up and running as always, with some "Cyclone" and even a round of "Deal or No Deal" to mix things up, but it wasn't until we saw the "Spin n' Win" that things really got crazy. An average jackpot for "Tower" Is a little higher than 250, with 10 tickets if you're just a wee bit off. "Spin n' Win," however, though it was 3 times the cost, had a max put out of a whopping 1000 tickets, with 20 if you miss by one measly lightbulb. "It can't be beaten," we thought, "No one must ever get the big one." We literally chuckled the first time we saw it. But after dispersing for a few minutes, and a few rounds of Guitar Hero with an awesome employee, I saw Drew run over from his throne on "Tower of Power." Sure enough, after but two tries, Sean had done it. It puked papery gold for five minutes straight. For the rest of the night, we rotated between the three, gladly spending the outgrageous 9.8 credits for a chance to hit that green lightbulb.

In the end, Drew won twice. I won twice. Sean won 4 times. Fists were pounded, highs were fived, chests were bumped, and manly yells were yelled manlyly. We walked, victorious, into that big glass room to spend our 11,202 tickets, more enough to buy an Xbox 360 game, and we walked out with some mighty fine loot. Mine alone were as follows:

-A giant Dave & Buster's novelty pen (to replace the one that broke this year)
-A Dave & Buster's shot glass
-A Dave & Buster's miniature glass mug
-A Dave & Buster's glass cup
-A Dave & Buster's pair of flip flops- now I have incentive to wear flip flops
-A Red Sox deck of cards
-2 big cups of Tootsie Rolls
-and 4 or 5 things that are going to be gifts* if I don't decide I want to eat them/like them too much to part with them/not eat them by the time I give them away.

So, all in all, a fantastic night. If you ever get a chance, make sure to drop by this one of a kind (excluding the others in the chain,) magical place.

-Will

*If you know me, don't get too excited. Even if you're a chosen one, they're not amazing gifts. Except that they're from Dave & Buster's.

"Tigers love pepper... they hate cinnamon."

The Motherland

2009-06-16T19:21:00.000-07:00

I have had a spectacular week. So many things have happened, so many little stories could be told, so much awesome has occured, that I won't even try to blog about much of it. I do have one story from today, however, that puncuates just one reason that I love this place.

In Corning, New York, my current place of residence with my aunt and uncle, there is a fountain. This is not your avergae, everyday, ordinary fountain, oh no- this is an interactive fountain. Picture the theme song from Friends with swimsuits and without the clapping every time(clapclapclapclap!). It's basically a metal cylinder about 4 feet high, shooting water up 15 feet high, and space around it for merriment, dancing to The Rembrandts, or, in some cases, bathing. Yes indeed, right as Uncle David, my 3 cousins and I were about to leave, a man walked up, swimsuit on, and stuck his arm up right over the upward-flowing water. Sure enough, he then washed the other armpit, plugged his nose to wash his face, and rolled around a bit in the standing water. 5 minutes later, we saw him emerge from behind a group of bushes with a different colored pair of shorts on.

Later that day, we saw a guy wielding some kind of arm-attached staff, practicing in an empty lot against thin air. He was winning. Earlier, a kid peed on the wall close to the fountain, overlooking a scenic river. What I love about this is that this is not considered normal. Any one of these activities have been frequently overlooked by me and many (especially the public urinaton,) yet here they constitute an anecdote. I missed home. It's good to be back.

-Will

"Shower makes noise."

Year In Review

2009-06-10T01:19:00.000-07:00

I write you from terminal E42 in Charles DeGaul Airport in Paris, on my way home for the summer. On the first flight, and indian guy 2 seats next to me took all 3 of the rows' assigned pillows. A lady just announced that "any luggage left behind will be destroyed by the police" in broken English. But I'm not going to talk about this current trip; there'll be lots of time for that. I am, however, going to look back on the one I just ended- the year long... let's say "experience" in Dakar, Senegal.

I'm not going to lie- it's been a long year. Filled with new faces, disappointments, and power outages, my first year in Dakar, and more importantly at Dakar Academy, has been, well, pretty much what I expected. I knew there would be culture shock in the new country (there always is,) and I like to think I had a pretty shrewd guess that there would be even more in the new school. In a subtle way, Dakar Academy, to me, is much more different from charter than America is from Senegal. The culture is completely different, and maybe it's a Minnesotan thing, but it took a long time to get used to. Honestly, that process is just beginning. I'm positive that in my senior year, something will happen or someone (or ones) will do something at some point that I completely will not understand. The incident with the rat, which I mentioned earlier this year, when someone called "rat!" and every other dude simultaneously jumped up, heaviest object within arm length in hand, and chased it. These things just don't cross my mind. By the way, that rat was like 1 1/2 feet from nose to butt.

Yet therein lies the problem. All this past year, especially during first semester, I've tried to define DA as a group, as a school, as some kind of entity stamping out public displays of affection and anyone who wasn't constantly happy. To an extent, I do think this is entirely the case, with many members of the school teaming up and informing the authorities if they catch any 2 people staring into each others' eyes for too long. The main problem, though, is that I was paying attention to the forest and not the trees. DA is a group of people more than a school, and I don't mean that in a "we're one big family here" kind of way. I'm talking about the DA I was talking about. If there's a whole bunch of people who drive me up the wall and about 5 who dont, it's not fair of me to cast the 5 in a bad light because of their bland, annoying classmates. It's not fair to do that to anyone, really. Except freshman. They probably deserve it.

-Will

"Like a band of gypsies we go down the highway. We're the best of friends, insisting that the world keep turning our way, and our way, is on the road again."

The Importance of BroHood

2009-05-29T16:12:00.000-07:00

No. Not brotherhood. That's the bad guys in X-Men. I'm here to talk to you about broHood, which is a group of high-fiving, chest-bumping men. Proud to fit the stereotype, and generally inseparable. Wayne and Garth. Seth and Evan. Frodo and Sam. Will and Tim. Danny and Rusty. Jake and Elwood. Mario and Luigi, for heaven's sakes. While often under-appreciated, broHoods are the basis of our society. If the world were based on the relationships girls have with each other, trust me, we would be in a much worse place.

It's a simpler sort of thing. There's not any smoke and mirrors, and if we're tired, we say we're tired. If we're annoyed, we say we're annoyed. If there's a dispute, broHoods have the ability to look past it, move on, not carry grudges. There's no pressure to entertain a bro, because if you stop keeping them constantly occupied with something interesting to do or talk about, they'll stick around. Bros don't ditch to find more interesting bros. That's just not how it works. Belonging to a broHood is even better than belonging to the Isabella's Subs frequent buyer club, and I'm not just saying that.

The reason is say this is twofold. One is obvious, I'll be back home in less than 2 weeks (it's crazy, I know,) and will finally be reunited with my bro. Like, the bro. The purest form of broHood the world has ever seen. And I cannot wait. It's been a long year, and having someone I know I can trust with anything will probably be one of, if not my absolute favorite parts of the trip. It's something I knew I wouldn't have here, and it's something that takes a long time (and the right dude) to develop. But the 2nd reason is less... good. I recently learned my main dude over here, John, is graduating after his junior year, negating an entire year of broHood. This, coupled with previous knowledge that he would be in America for the 1st semester of nextyear has me less than ecstatic for the 2nd half of high school. He's a gamer, he's funny, and he's leaving. My other dude friends are awesome, but they're in the dorm, and that's just not the same. They know that. John was gone for one week with dingy fever, and that was weird enough.

I guess what I'm trying to say is, I'm bummed. Without thinking of this summer, and just next school year, it looks more, well, bleak. I can count on John to not ditch, and even the dorm guys have their...pursuits. I just naively assumed that after this past year, I'd be mostly done with big sad goodbyes, which will never be the case. There will always be people coming and going, especially in a missionary school environment, and that's just something I'm going to have to get used to. I just really wish I didn't.

-Will

"You smell like a bodybuilder."

I'm No Superman

2009-05-11T14:24:00.000-07:00

This past week marked the finale of one of my most beloved TV shows: Scrubs. So I'm going to take this time to reflect on it, whether you like it or not.

I have to give credit to my main man Tim for introducing the show to me, pretty late in it's lifetime. The episode "My Musical" caught his attention, and after getting a strong recommendation, I decided to go ahead and pay the 2 bucks on iTunes to give it a look. What I saw, I must say, was quite unlike any show I'd seen before. Of course, not every episode is in musical form, but the format of that particular episode grabbed the attention of an impatient 13-year-old that an ordinary episode might not have been able to do.

This isn't to say, however, that the normal format of an episode is dull. Every episode I've seen, I've loved, and whether it's the music at the end, JD's awesome daydreams, or the sometimes cheesy way that every episode wraps up, tying various plots together with one overarching moral, they usually have me smiling at the end. Because, what started off as a parody of the multitude of dramas in hospitals took off into a genre of it's own, different from most TV shows on now. all the characters are ridiculous and nigh-unbelieveable, except for the experiences they have. Take JD and the Janitor and put them anywhere else but a hospital and that relationship is impossible, but on TV, in such a dreary environment (if you don't mind me saying,) you can almost believe that a support staff would hold a vendetta against a doctor. Even for something as simple as a penny on the first day of work.

I have to say, though, I started watching at a bad time. Season 7, supposedly the last, began when the writer's strike was at it's strikiest, and lasted just a little more than 10 episodes. While this was a great time to catch up on the 6 seasons I had missed, Season 7 lacked a certain quality that the others had. It was funny, sure, but at times too much so, and while I enjoyed watching Turk and JD throw water balloons at the annoying interns, and Elliot's bizarre relationship with Keith, it seemed out of place. The show, while always a comedy, wasn't taking itself seriously enough. Still a decent portion of TV, but season 7's downfall's gave way into season 8's perfection.
The turnaround was evident from the first 2 episodes last year. Focusing Dr. Cox's troubles with his new position, and the hospital bromance duo talking to a terminal patient in his final hours, it was clear that the show would go out with a bang, and not just another half-decent season before puttering out. The season's had sad moments, crazy ones, touching ones, hilarious ones, and it's fair share of daydreams, but most of all, it was Scrubs again. People say that finales are often a letdown, yet I had high hopes for Scrubs, and, as always, it did not let me down. I'm just manly enough to admit that the end had me sniffling, and not just because I have a cold.

Scrubs has little to no followers at DA and not a ton at QHS (high five, Erin.) Of course, here, things like that are often rated by their inappropriate content, not their quality level, but that's beside the point. The point is, whether you liked it or not, is that it's over. It went out stronger than most, and even its harshest critics can't say no to the fact that it brought something new and fresh to the table. Goodbye Scrubs, and thanks for everything.

-Will

"I can't do this all on my own, no I know; I'm no superman."

Seussical the Musical

2009-05-09T16:24:00.000-07:00

Let me tell you a story of my recent free time,
but to make it more fun I will tell it in rhyme.
In the spirit of the play, and like Dr. Seuss
I'll give it a shot. Don't you snicker. Moose.

It all started out in mid-late December,
When the auditions were held, I still can't remember
But as I recall, I showed up and acted
for the part of the general, and the teacher reacted
better than expected, for I got the part
of the Mayor of Who, which gave me a start.

'Twas a bigger role than expected, yes,
yet not such as big as Horton, I guess
But I loved it and looked forward to begin
and that's about where thing's gave right on in.

It had been a while since I had last sung,
and I didn't think I'd be perfect, but it stung
When I realized how much I had since then forgotten
basic musical terms, plus my voice sounded rotten

I was "married" to someone else in the BGC,
and was the "father" of her brother, which was strange to me.
The first couple weeks, surrounded by singers,
were hard and embarrassing, and put me through the ringer
yet after the start, I began to have fun
with the other performers, including my "son"

I became more comfortable with each passing day,
so, by the time we had to put on the play,
I knew all my lines, I could sing all my songs,
and all of the cast members just got along
Which made it much better, and easy to do
I could be both happy and Mayor of who

On the opening night, I forgot 'bout my mic
I fussed with it some, yet it was on mute
For most of Act 1, so the point was moot

Come Saturday night, we did much much better,
still, I kicked part of the set, almost forgot a letter
Then yesterday night, It really came together,
even though I was feeling quite under the weather

Tonight was alright, overall very good,
but I didn't do well, didn't think I would
My throat was sore, my nose was runny,
even more than last night's, but still, it was funny
My lines were alright, yet my singing was off,
I still had my cold, plus a pretty bad cough

The whole thing was tiring, yet worth all the work
And the suit that I wore was but just one perk
But it was a blast, I had fun on Who,
Yet it's all over now. And the Mayor's? We're through.

-Will

"When the news is all bad,
when you're sour and blue,
when you start to get sad, you should do what I do:
tell yourself how lucky you are!"

School-Approved Mud Wrestling

2009-04-25T15:42:00.000-07:00

Now, as far as school sanctioned events at DA, I have pretty low expectations. Not to say they were through the roof anywhere else, or that I haven't enjoyed previous events, but it's usually not the event itself that is the primary fun factor. Tonight, however, had me surprised, to say the least.

Late last week, a large brown piece of paper, reading "Grimy Slimy Sludge Night," appeared on the school bulletin board. Against my baser instincts, I let a friend from school sign me up. I thought to myself "You know? I could use some more grimy and slimy sludge in my life." So tonight, at 7:30, I showed up with a white t-shirt, jeans, and no belt (bad idea) at DA and was soon pronounced member of team "Stinky." At least I wasn't on "Vile," right?

The first activity was my 2nd least favorite, dubbed the egg blow. As appealing as that name was, I was reluctant to participate, but decided to take the plunge. With the aid of a raw egg and a bendy white tube, the task was to blow the egg into the opposing person's face, while they try the same to you. Unfortunately, all the egg-blowing exercises I've been training with at home were to no avail, and I got half a raw egg in the back of my throat. I don't even like cooked eggs. But, with the promise of mud-wrestling, I rinsed, spat, and trudged on.

Next had to be my favorite game of the evening. The student senate had constructed a 10' by 20' patch of pure mud at the back of the soccer field, with a tire in the middle. I assure you, it was tempting to not jump in right then and there, but I got my chance. Playing tug of war with another team, we won the majority of the rounds and moved onto find-the-fish. A variation on that game where each person on both teams is assigned a number and a number is called, then each with the a number from each team runs in and gets something and brings it back over their line (why no, there is not a more eloquent way to say that,) except with a raw fish. About halfway through, the head came off, which lead to one of the more bizarre conversations I've heard in a long time. Since one team got the head and one team got the body, the argument was what piece was better. The brain, or the majority of the body? It's a judgment call, but I'll let you decide.

Then came the next batch of trials. First off, the Poo....something. Chute, trench, pool, kazoo, I forget, but it was basically a military crawl, under benches, through a crevasse of a the most appalling mixture of matter I've ever crawled through. I don't know any specifics (not that I asked,) but olives, spaghetti, milk, and vinegar were mentioned, and multiple diapers were visible- for effect, I suppose. The stench of it will haunt me until the end of my days, and the entire team had to crawl through the 15 foot long abomination- twice. Never thought I'd roll around in a mud pit to cleanse myself. After that was the slip and slide (no explanation needed,) an egg throw, and a shot of some gross cup of something, we played a banana game. Sitting and using our feet, each team member passed a slightly-peeled banana down the line with their feet, and the last person had to peel one side with their muddy feet, then peel the rest and eat half of it. I must say, my team did a great job, and the banana was surprisingly tasty.

The finale took place back at the mud pit, with a line for each team, a place to get mud, and a bucket at the end of each team's lane. We nearly filled ours, but fell short and came in 2nd out of 8 overall. Not bad, I'd say. Walking home, barefoot, and plastered with mud, though, had to be one of the nights plentiful highlights.

And this is after 5 minutes of hosing down. At least a minute and a half were devoted to being able to read the letters. Yes, this was originally a white shirt.

All in all, a pretty awesome night.

-Will

"That's the second biggest slingshot I've ever seen, but I guess it'll have to do."

Birthday

2009-04-14T14:06:00.000-07:00

It seems like, almost every gift-giving occasion, I ask for something preposterous. Not necessarily monetarily preposterous (but usually it is,) but always either impossible to find, or impossible to figure out, or whatever. The Wii, which my mom camped out at Target all night to get. The little white boxes have just now, two years later, started to be easy to find. Guitar Hero III, after looking for months was found by not only my mom and dad, by my grandparents as well. Then again, here in Africa, with the next iteration of Guitar Hero. This time, though, not only with a guitar, but with a drum set, a mic, and a guitar (all fake, of course.) So, they call some random pastor of a church in Colorado, have him pick it up miles away at the only store that has it, have him give it to the previous resident of our house, who was coming back. It had gotten to the point that I wondered what the limit was.

So, again, I pushed for something seemingly impossible. Tickets to the states for the summer. In every way, a ridiculous proposition. Where to stay, when to go, how to get there, the cost of airline tickets. All factors preventing me from my dream trip. Honestly, if I could go to anywhere in the world for the summer, and this might seem stupid, but I would choose Franklin, Massachusetts. And I am.

I opened my present (a bit early) and there it was. Flight schedules to and from Logan airport. In a way, I don't even think it's hit me. I mean, I know I'm going home for the summer, but it still seems like a dream. In just a few short months, I'll be in a place with green grass, root beer, central air conditioning, hardly any power outages, and fast food. Glorious, glorious fast food. I think it won't ever really hit me, actually, until about 2 days after I get back. So, Mom and Dad, I'd like to give you a both late and in-advance thank you. This one tops even Guitar Hero.

-Will

"If you're sweating while you're bowling, you're out of shape. And if you're out of shape and you're bowling, you're probably a professional bowler."

I Found This Under My Bed...

2009-03-29T16:35:00.000-07:00

...ran it though Google translator, and here's what I got. I don't think the little fella really gets calendars and dates yet, though.

-I found a piece of paper in the big one's closet, and took ones of those "pencils" the humans think I'm so interested in, so I thought I might record some of my life in a journal.

-The big one, Will, seems to be pretty cool. He was much more attentive during my initial days, but he's still pretty awesome, even though he thinks I like tummy rubs.

-Watched the boys play Guitar Hero World Tour for 3 hours, napped through most of it. There's just something about hearing "Livin' On a Prayer" belted, clicked, and smashed through at top volume that puts me to sleep.

-The small girl...Anna, I think, had some cult gathering of fellow small girls. They made this big light on the wall, and watched a movie, but that was the only time that they were anything near to quiet. I thought Anna was loud, but at least there's only one of her. She's pretty nice and I can run away from her if I want. Apparently, when multiple human girls get together, their accumulative sound level is increased exponentially. This was evident during most of the evening, and it was one of the times that I cherished the safety of Will's room.

-Will's mom keeps talking about someone being declawed, and it's stressing Will out nearly as much as it is me. I'm pretty sure they're talking about someone else, though, so no worries.

-I believe Will has some musical event at some point, because he keeps walking into the door repeating the same, strange things about Grinches and clovers. There's also some songs about them, which he unfortunately tests on me. The poor guy just isn't much of a tenor.

-I snuck the paper in the bathroom before Will shut me in here again. I just wanna get out there and jump on his face while he's sleeping. Who is he to deny me that right? I have, however, learned how to jump onto the shower edge, and I saw this other cat in a window across from it. He looks pretty classy, but he's not paying me much attention.

-Been feeling strange, and took the chance to define the term "explosive diarrhea." Walls, outside of the litter box, everywhere. But then I felt really bad that I made such a mess (in the middle of some phone call with a church known as "Emmanuel") and, after rubbing my paws in it and walking a round for a moment, went into the bathroom. There Will found me, partially covered in my own excrement, and had the bright idea to give me a bath (with the help of his mom, of course.) But, if I look at it from his angle, it was probably as unpleasant for him as it was for me, so no harm done.

-Anyways, now I'm napping, and have been for a long time. Will's really worried about me, so they're taking me to the vet tomorrow before headin' off to some game reserve. Sounds pretty cool, though I don't really remember what a vet is. I'll just play it by ear.

Until I find another piece of paper,
Jazz Danger Root Beer Martin

P.S.- I watched this moving picture about these people in an office, and there was a line that I found pretty funny, so I'm gonna throw it in the end here.

"This a dream that I have had since lunch, and I am not giving up on it now."
"

A Day in the Life

2009-03-12T11:31:00.000-07:00

Well, sorry for the dry spell in posts, but it's been pretty boring recently and I try to stay away from writing anything when I'm in a bad mood. It's like shopping when you're hungry- not a good idea. But today was an up and down day. I was initially appalled by today's schedule (95% of my waking hours spent on school grounds,) somehow it all worked out in the end. While you wouldn't think such would occur when you add youth group, 3 hour play practice, and an insane English teacher, I guess sometimes life surprises you.

First off, my english teacher. I've neglected to write about this woman for a long time (even though the urge existed multiple times,) yet today I just have to mention her. She's such a character I just have to write this down so I can link to this when I'm old and prove to all my friends in the holo-nursery home that I didn't make her up. She apparently has very keen ears, and absolutely can't stand anyone tapping or making noise of any kind. Clearly this is not a good pair of traits for any person. Yet I can understand that. Although it's a wee bit neurotic on the Richter scale of insanity, since people tend to do that (absentmindedly and with no ill intent.) So every so often, someone will be tapping without noticing, and she'll kind of freak out. Alright, whatever. But today, as the teacher was reading annoucements, the girl sitting next to me was getting a pen out of her binder. Of course, a malicious act. Now I'll just write it out as a dialogue, because I think you'll get the gist of it without me making snyde comments every sentence.

(teacher- exasperated, yet forcedly smiling thoughout) "Are you ever going to be done making that noise?"

"What? Oh, sorry"

(teacher continues to read daily annoucements, while girl pokes at white eraser with pencil, making no noise)

"Maybe if I hold the paper in front of my face, I won't be able to see you moving so much"

"Ummm, what? Oh....sorry"

"Just don't move...don't breathe....just kidding.....not really"

And then after everyone was quiet for a few seconds, she scolded two other people down the row of chairs, who must have been blinking hard or something. Not making any noise, of course. Think David Brent's (from the British version of "The Office") level of awkwardness, except it's in real life. Just had to get that out there.

And then, after a tiring day, I had play practice. My experiences with play practice here have been...humbling, to say the least. I don't know whether it's the fact I haven't sung on a formal level in a year, or if it's I wasn't that great to begin with, or if the Who's whom I'm ruling with an iron fist (yeah, I'm the Mayor of Whoville- and I wasn't elected, either,) but most of the time it's been pretty bad. Yet, maybe it is just my boring kinsfolk, because whenever all the leads get together to do blocking, it is a heck of a good time. I've always believed that even the crappiest experience could be made amazing with the right people beside you. You could watch all the "Insert vague movie genre here Movie" (e.g. Date Movie, Epic Movie etc.) in a row, but if it was with the right bunch of bunnies, then that could be one memorable experience.

And finally, after said day at school, I trudged home, had dinner, banana cake, and headed off to youth group. I usually hate this weekly event, but a group of factors contributed to this week's being, dare I say, awesome. There's a football team from Wheaton here, but the fact that they hang out with either the little kids or the dorm guys/girls ensures that I have little to no reaction with them. They did, however, both attend and speak at youth group, marking my favorite sermon of all time. Long story short, it was 15 minutes long, and contained the word "awesome" at least half a dozen times. Yet the best was still to come.

After youth group, me and a dude named Joe managed (with help) to dogpile 2 memebers of the team, one of whom was an alumni and has played in the NFL. And, after the largest game of knockout I've ever seen played, aforementioned dude named Joe, two others named Jon and Lee, and I went back into the woods and sat on the new treehouse the Wheaton guys made for a while, just to test it out. Of course, sitting in the woods gets boring after a while, so we decided to go back and jump off of stuff. Luckily, there were some gym mats (thick ones) laying around, so we took it upon ourselves to jump off a second story balcony. Which we did. Many times. Seeing us, our awesome history teacher comes over, and instead of punishing us, jumps off herself. After getting too tired to run back to the top and jump off, we decided to play king of the hill of a balance beam. Needless to say, I came home tired and sweaty. So that was my awesome day. We'll see how tomorrow goes.

-Will

"What would think do if I sang out of tune, would you stand up and walk out on me? Lend me your ears and I'll sing you a song, and I'll try not to sing out of key."

Your Getting Your Pet in My Softball Tournament!!

2009-02-16T13:41:00.000-08:00

I usually try not to blog unless something a little interesting has happened to me (yet I frequently break the rule,) and now TWO THINGS DID.

Before I say anything else, though, just let me get this off my chest:

Above: THAT'S MY KITTY

But before I get even more ahead of myself, I'm going to try to explain in words what this weekend was like. Dakar's main event from February 14-16 was W.A.I.S.T. That's the West African Invitational Softball Tournament, and just pronounced "waist." Now, if I had more time (you know how frightfully busy my schedule is,) and if the whole thing wasn't eclipsed by what I got after the tournament, AND if I had some pictures, then I could really portray this event better.

Just picture this: 20ish year old Americans living all over West Africa converging together in 3 days, in the only West African country that drinking is allowed. Now picture an entire softball team in uniforms of ties, button-up shirts, and blazers- and short-shorts. And extend that amount of crazy across 6 teams and about 15 hours of play time, and you can start to grasp the gist of W.A.I.S.T. It was loud, it was smelly, and it was the most fun I've had (socially) in a long, long time. Now, I can't even really describe DA's environment (though I've tried for 6 months,) but just know that however crazy such a tourney seems to you know, that after being at DA for half a year, it was ten times more jarring. And I mean that in such a good way.

Yet we haven't even gotten to the best part. On the last day, someone brought over 3 kitties for people to adopt. Judging by the fact that someone did the same thing with puppies on Saturday,* this seemed normal. But I am a cat person, and when someone brought over the cutest, chubbiest kitty with the most forlorn eyes I've seen on any living creature, well, long story short, it's currently napping in my room. And now, for pictures (more on my facebook.)

Above: my face, since I saw that kitty. Well, that, and my "Aaaaawwww" face.

Above: Say hello to the world, Jazz Danger Root Beer Martin (fine, he's already 2 months old)

-Will

"Danger? Danger's my middle name."

P.S. Thank you SO MUCH Mom and Dad!!!

*A kid in my class adopted 2, totally out of the blue. If you were wondering, their names are Pepsi and King Julian, and they've already started fighting.

P.S.S. Is this after-blog space getting overcrowded or what? Quote of the Post was here first!

Ocean's Fourteen

2009-01-24T12:21:00.000-08:00

Aaaaaaaand I'm back. Miss me?

Well, I'm sure that many of you reading have locked yourselves out of something at some point or another, but did you ever have to break back in....Mission Impossible style?

Above: Maybe you see a ladder on a table, but that sure looks like the manifestation of an elaborate breaking-and-entering scheme to me.

So we went to watch a softball game this morning. As we left, Mom said we had locked ourselves out of the house. Yet we had the key...? Of course, 2 hours, half a Mars bar, and a softball game later, this didn't seem like much of a problem. There are like 3 or 4 doors to our house, one of them must be open, right? Back door? Locked and double deadbolted. Side doors? Two layers of unbridled lockedness. Front door? There was a key in the other side. Of course.

There we were, like many before, locked out of our own house. Yet, here in our new place, we had something not many do. We had a balcony. Multiple balconies, even. So what's a tired, Sly-Cooper-playing, heist-movie-watching family to do but conquer the balcony with lawn furniture. Long story short, I climbed up, ripped some screen door, broke into my parents room, walked downstairs, and removed the key from the door.

And that, my friends, is the true story of Will's first felony.

-Will

"I suddenly remembered my Charlemagne. Let my armies be the rocks and the trees and the birds in the sky."

A Little Piece of Home

2008-12-24T03:19:00.000-08:00

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."

I Like to Move It- Part 1 of 2

2008-12-22T02:41:00.000-08:00

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."

Math is a Wonderful Thing

2008-12-18T14:42:00.000-08:00

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."

Cold Front Passes Through Dakar- Temperature Dipped to 70 Degrees!

2008-12-17T15:23:00.000-08:00

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!

And to All a Good Night

2008-12-14T14:18:00.000-08:00

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."

I Wonder How You Spell Tobasco...

2008-12-11T13:02:00.000-08:00

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.

May Flowers Bring December Showers

2008-12-02T09:29:00.000-08:00

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?"

So's your mom!

2008-11-30T07:55:00.000-08:00

While on my ever-continuing quest to create analogies suiting the student body at DA, I came up with a good one.

You see, this past Tuesday was a pep band practice. Said pep band is comprised of me on trombone, a teacher on trumpet, and another sophomore on trumpet. Since we had played through a bunch of songs that we already had music for, I brought some new sheet music I got off the interweb. Among several popular TV and movie themes, I thought I’d throw in the Super Mario Bros. theme song. I picked this out of several much more obscure video game songs, because I thought, well, its fun to play, and a lot of people know it, right?

Here comes pure Dakar Academy disappointment. While the teacher, about 25 years old, loved it, yet my fellow high schooler thought it was stupid. So here we are in a 2-on-1, video games V.S. not video games argument.

I’ve been brooding over this particular incident for a few days now, and I’ve come up with a perfect analogy for this student, as well as every other Dakar Academy student I’ve met so far. DA students are like moms.

(I realize that these things do not always apply to every mom, and do not mean to insult your mom or my mom)

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."

The Computers Know Everything

2008-11-29T13:53:00.000-08:00

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!"

America Day

2008-11-20T13:42:00.000-08:00

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."

Snap into a...

2008-11-06T08:42:00.000-08:00

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.

This is Halloween

2008-10-30T14:36:00.000-07:00

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!"

Poutine, Buses, and Rugby: or, Some final thoughts on Quebec

2008-10-24T14:56:00.000-07:00

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"

Assimilation

2008-10-21T14:46:00.000-07:00

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."

Zoom Zoom Zoom

2008-10-18T13:48:00.000-07:00

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."

Out the Door

2008-10-14T14:45:00.000-07:00

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."

Topsy Turvy

2008-10-09T09:27:00.000-07:00

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

Pictures of the 'Frika House

2008-09-17T11:22:00.000-07:00

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 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!"

Rant Time

2008-09-11T14:29:00.001-07:00

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. "

L'Escale de Maristes- A Restaurant Review

2008-09-02T15:05:00.000-07:00

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."

The S is for Sucks

2008-08-29T14:52:00.000-07:00

I don't want another talk. I want to go home.

A Bug's Life

2008-08-24T12:40:00.000-07:00

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."

2008-08-16T16:00:00.000-07:00

...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"

Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Do

2008-08-14T14:38:00.000-07:00

....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!

-Will

"It's not my fault being the biggest and the strongest. I don't even exercise."

First Day of School

2008-08-13T15:03:00.000-07:00

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.

Hell on Earth- Now With 100% more Soulja Boi

2008-08-11T15:15:00.000-07:00

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

If I had a Nickel...

2008-08-07T15:36:00.000-07:00

...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

It's About Time

2008-05-17T13:41:00.000-07:00

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."

I'm This Many

2008-04-11T05:44:00.000-07:00

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"

Can't you Feel It?

2008-03-23T19:39:00.001-07:00

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

As Promised, My Super Smash Bros. Brawl Review

2008-03-20T20:01:00.000-07:00

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.

Icy Conditions Ahead

2008-03-05T18:47:00.000-08:00

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!

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."

100 Down, 80 More to Go

2008-02-14T14:47:00.000-08:00

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."

Red Bull Grace Pool Smash Cloverfield Super Ipod Monster Bowl Crashed Ice- in 3 Days!

2008-02-04T15:44:00.000-08:00

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

Don't be a Duke Nukem Forever

2008-01-15T18:53:00.000-08:00

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

I want to see Clovie and I want to see him NOW!

2008-01-13T18:55:00.000-08:00

It's 9:57 at night. I'm pausing from typing about every 10 seconds to open my window of the IMDB message board and refresh it, just to make sure i haven't missed anything. And it seems like there's no way that this movie can not let me down, just because of the hype surrounding it.
Which is probably the reason why the particular post has so many periods and why the sentences flow even less than usual. The thing is, I don't even know what the official title of this movie is. Cloverfield has been near the center of my attention for a few days now and I find the number of people freaking out about it is both astounding and maybe a little too much fun. A few days ago if someone started talking to me about the fact that "the new Jamie and teddy Number 10 video is up!" or anything concerning "Slusho" I would have given them a blank stare. Now I might reply with "And did you see the newest tv spot? It was on like 5 minutes ago and its on youtube now!" There must be humdreds of posts about the "picture of the monster" and about 90 percent of them are, in fact, "Easter Ferrets" or other masquerading furry mammals.

My Favorite Monster so far:

That's what I'm talking about. I mean come on this thing's a freakin' beast! It could totally tear the head off of the Statue of Liberty man!. Alright! Peace out!

"-I'm sorry I puked on you're shoes

-I'm sorry I wore sandals."

And We're Back

2008-01-09T15:24:00.000-08:00

Indeed, we have gone back. Back to school, back to Canada, back to the place where I dont know the language, the people, the culture, or the store hours. Where the people are rude, the drivers are insane, where the music is rap and where the general mood just seems to be "pissed off." Ladies and gentlemen, I give you, Quebec City. I almost feel bad for places like this. Quebec and Colorado alike are both places I would love to visit on my own free will or even live in for a little while, but given the circumstances, Colorado is 6 week Church-School Hell on my last summer in the states (for a while), and Quebec is just a very long wait at a bus stop where, heaven forbid, I become friends with anyone, I get to say "good bye" in just 6 months! Not awesome.
Anywho, life goes on, and I play Guitar hero 3 to keep my sanity. I will take this opportunity to say that I have, yes, beaten the entire campaign in expert mode, and would like to thank my parents for getting me the game, but mostly Tim, for getting me into the game and showing me the ropes, among many other things. *bows* There you go. And I sit here, in my new Queen t-shirt, lumberjacket, and Buzz Lightyear Star Command Clearance (Planetary Pilot) I find that all I can do is count down days; until the school years over, until Super Smash Bros. finally comes out, until my 18th birthday (1146 days, give or take), and last but not least (it is actually least) until that freakin' Writers Strike is over and I can witness a proper ending to my favorite TV Show of all time, to which the Quote of the Post can be Attributed.

Missing Home and its Inhabitants,

Will

"In the end the most important thing to accept is that no matter how alone you may feel, how painful it may be, with the help of those around you, you'll get through this too."
-Scrubs

It Just Feels Right

2008-01-02T07:49:00.000-08:00

Maybe it's the odd but dearly missed fragrance from Tim's beloved basement. Maybe it's the sight of an evening where ambient city lights dont make it bright out at 11:00 pm. Or it just might be the feeling of waking up at 12:00 noon with an oreo-skittles-halo 3 hangover and mountain dew on your breath; reminding you of last nights wild and sugar driven shenanigans. Whatever or whoever it might be, theres just something altogether perfect, in every way, about coming home to Massachusetts for vacation. There are so many reasons separately that makes it amazing, but put them all together snd you have something else entirely. Junk food is awesome. Best friends are awesome. Halo 3 is awesome. So are cats with tumors, and cats without tumors, and spaghetti, and the movie army of darkness (hail to the king, baby), and old tvs that glow yellow, and scrubs season 6 on dvd, and the anime channel, and visiting an old but not forgotten school, and molasses cookies. And the best part? Its not over yet.

-Will

-are you an idiot?
-no sir, I'm a dreamer

RTC=EVIL

2007-12-20T18:02:00.000-08:00

Yes everyone; the Ridiculously Topiariac Club is has joined force with Every Villain Is Lemons to give you the best allover phone service. EVIL, the new RTC.
Although RTC is in fact the bus company which unforunately runs in Quebec City, i just wanted to tell everyone that it is not a good thing. It's not like I'm saying to boycott it, I'm just saying that it sucks and you should not use it.
This rant has been brought to you by: FireMeat Productions, the official sponsor of Slice n' Dice Pizza Delivery.

Now you all may be wondering why I, one of sure mind and body (for the most part) has not written a post about anything relating to what I'm doing here in Quebec, or what my parents are doing here in Quebec. This is true for one main reason: nothing is happening.
Apart from the occasional new video game purchase/rental and the snow days that are becoming more and more often, there really isn't much to report, except to say there is nothing to report. Woo Hoo. So what I'm trying to say is, there might be more posts, but chances are they aren't actually about anything. If I'm really bored I might start reviewing random video games, because I enjoy it and because I have nothing else to do.

Anyway, its almost Christmas Time! Which means several things all at once: actual Christmas, going to see aunts and uncles, and last but far above all else- I AM GOING HOME. Yes, you heard it, home. Oh Yes. It's where your heart is and where I'm going on Vacation. So, this means for the next few days I'll be staring at the clock until I get to go home, and then the few days after I come back, I will be dealing with a *deep breath* purplefantachuggingmoviebackroundnoisinghalo3playingall
aroundgaminglordoftheringsmarathoningetc.
*chugging air* ...hangover
It's the most wonderful time of the year indeed.

In saying goodbye, I would like a moment of silence for the breaking up of the Blood Brothers (I dont care if you dont know them, shut up and pay your respects) and for it to be broken with this picture:

-Will

"There are two types of people in this world; The people who hate Napoleon Dynamite and the people who still like it."

2007-12-15T18:05:00.000-08:00

I Lost my Poor Meatball

Where: On top of Spaghetti

Wearing: It was all covered in cheese

Last seen: Rolling down the garden, and under the bush

Why: Somebody sneezed

Could you Help me Please?

"It's the kid inside of us that keeps us all from going crazy."

You've been Elf'd!!

2007-12-12T18:53:00.000-08:00

This has been going around my Mom and aunts' emails and Ijust had to make one: they're irresistible!

http://www.elfyourself.com/?id=1346044355

for those who don't recognize; that's Will, Tim, Jonny, and Sam
Behave well, and I might write an actual bog next time!

Enjoy!

"He will pay, I swear on my unborn fish childs' life he will pay."

Dad, on Duran Duran

2007-12-06T13:53:00.001-08:00

"They're not a hair band! They're Pop. In fact, they're bad pop; bad when they came out and worse now. Actually I think they should be outlawed!"

Snow Day! Wii!

2007-12-05T13:38:00.000-08:00

Ello everyone!
What a weekend-6 days! The snow as comin down hard on monday, creating all the awful road conditions a driver could ask for. An unexpected snow day was nice, its like mother nature is helping me procrastinate on my career day project! In other news, today is National Day of the Ninja!!! Celebrate by watching askaninja, wearing ninja gear, and using shurikens all day! Don't hit Butters in the eye! I've decided to give everyone my Wii number, so that the day Super Smash Bros. Brawl comes out, I''ll be able to play with all y'alls. It's right down there *points down*. And finally, I'm going to start putting one (or more) quotes at the bottom of the page- pretty much every day, even if I have nothing else interesting to say. I do love quotes, after all.

"There's nothing I wouldn't do for him, and there's nothing that he wouldn't do for me, so we spend our lives doing nothing for eachother." -Bing Crosby

Sayonara!
-Will

Will's Wii Number: 1284 2259 7094 9049

My Music is where I'd like you to Touch

2007-12-04T18:11:00.000-08:00

The DS thought of it first. No one likes a copycat, Mac.

One Year Ago

2007-12-01T19:42:00.000-08:00

Its been a long week! Since I haven't actually posted in almost 4 days-gasp!- let me bring you up to speed on whats happened this week. The first 2 days were school days. They were boring. It's school. But then! All the chid'rens had wednesday through friday off!! Yayyy! So- I had Wednesday and Friday all to my lonesome (thats awesome) and thursday I watched all the younglings! And we rented MOHH2 (Medal of Honor Heroes 2, to common folk) and its pretty awesome. 32 player online is something that I've never played before- and its really flippin sweet. The campaign is a standard boring WWII thing- Single-handedly take down the entire Nazi regime with nothing but an M1 Garand containing 60 shots, a pistol with 42, and 4 grenades. Basic thing. But onto the topic of the blog- "one year ago." I was recently thinkig what kinds of things were going on around 1 year ago at this time. So here goes:
One Year ago...
...I was on a football team
...I was attending BFCCPS
...people still used myspace (facebook now people, get with the program)
...there were only like 37 types of ipods. now theres 46...right?
...I lived in Massachusetts
...I could communicate with the general majority of strangers-I miss you, random video game employees
...Frank Beamer had only one ACC Championship
...I had never watched Scrubs
...I'd never played Guitar Hero
...I'd only played Wii once
...My Nintendo DS was "broken"
...I'd never seen Transformers, Pirates 3, Spiderman 3, Ocean's 13, etc.
...the people in my neighborhood all spoke English
...I was probably failing English
...I didn't have to worry about the reform system
...I probably had recently gone to the mall with Tim and MadE for Christmas shopping
...the nearest mall was a 45-minute drive away
...I got home from school on a yellow school bus
...I knew even less French than I do now
...I recollected on the class trip to Camp Beckett a lot (some of you know what I mean)
...I tried not to think about Quebec
...Moving was a distant prospect
A lot can happen in a year, huh?

"Hooch is crazy"
-Wildabeast

Martin Thanksgiving

2007-11-25T18:18:00.000-08:00

The pies, the turkey, the cranberry sauce stuff, the gravy, and of course the cornpud. It was pretty strange not having Thanksgiving with the big family, and maybe just a little less strange having it 3 days late. Since neither the folks or the childrens had school off, Mom and Dad decided to postpone the holiday until Sunday, so Mom could have more time to cook us food (thanks Mom!). Everything was delicious, of course, but a part of me yearned for the Ms. PacMan machine in Aunt Janice's basement, or maybe it was the neverending escapades of yours truly, trying to put a candle out with my mouth. Nevertheless, the holiday was very pleasant, just the Martins and our friends the Copelands for dinner, Mythbusters, and The Amazing Race:
"If electricity was never invented, we'd be watching TV by candlelight."
I forget who said that, but i felt it fit the situation.
Turns out a human can not catch a bullet with their teeth, just in case you were thinkin' about trying that. :)
Also, aftr another quiet-time sledding outing ended in near-tears and a very frustrated walk home, if anyone knows any good sledding hills in the city of quebec (long not steep) then do tell me becausewe need one thats devoid of little children standing in the track as they situate their gloves. thanks a bunch!

-OG

ACC Championship, here we come!

2007-11-24T12:36:00.000-08:00

It's time for revenge, Eagles. The Hokies are comin' to town.
After watching the family's favorite college team trump their archrivals, the Virginia Wahoos, the whole family has been put in a good mood, waiting with baited breath for the ACC Championship game against those cursed Boston College Eagles. After a humiliating defeat earlier in the season, all Tech fans are thrilled with a chance to take them down (It's all come down to this, Sam). In other news, Anna's birthday is coming up (December 3rd) and the horse she wanted so much was all out of stock :/. Mom told her today so she wouldnt be upset then and we heard result of that "painful" conversation for a while. Tomorrow is like Martin Thanksgiving so the smell of frozen turkey and scented candles are in the air....ahhhhh. My bros. are at a friends house, but I think I'll get one of them to wite something this week at least, if not later today. who knows.

30 days until Christmas
79 until Super Smash Bros Brawl
121 until the school year ends
1193 until my 18th birthday
woohoo!

give my regards to broadway,
wilhelm

Starting off!

2007-11-23T18:38:00.000-08:00

Well, its been a while since ive actually been in Quebec, and I'm much too impatient to actually tell you everything that has happened since then. I also know that I said I would make a blog for a while, but hey! I finally got bored enough to actually do it! So since we came here, we took everything out of the big U-Haul that ate all of our possessions, put them in the house, and went to school. Also my parents got angry at most of the Canadian postal service. then our address changed. that was an ordeal. oh and then I went to massachusetts. woo hoo! that rocked socks. ill update this blog at least once a week, with news about the works around the house, along with some personal thoughts, making this way more interesting than my 'rent's boring ol newsletter. (its war, mom and dad) i promise to have more interesting blogs in the future, along with much better grammar (no promises on that one)

this is tubs, signing off