Saturday, October 13, 2012

Ceremonial First Drawing

FIRST DRAWING ON MY NEW MAC!!!!!!!!!!



Yes, it'll be a new adjustment, but so far, it's great!!!!

--Jane

Thursday, October 11, 2012

October 11th Birthday Special

FWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEET!
It's my birthday! And you know what that means!

That's right!

Cake, presents, and the most AWESOME BLOGPOST OF THE YEAR.

Now! It's time to pick my personal favorite blogpost of the year. (Besides this one)

And the winner is....


THE VACUUM OF YOUTUBE!!!!!!!!!


Anyway, it's STORY TIME.

The time where I combine life experiences into one big blog post (with a few fictional touches, of course)

Now, this one is called:

EVERY SINGLE BIRTHDAY EVER COMBINED.

Once, there was a girl named Jane.


Like most people, Jane had a birthday.


Which meant

CAKE.

And, like every breathing creature on this good Earth, Jane was obsessed with...

CAKE.

She also happened to have a mother fantastic at baking...

CAKE.


Let's do some math, here.

Carry the cake, add some slobber, a little sugar and.....


But enough math! We're here to have fun!

Believe it or not, there's MORE to this Birthday Spectacular!


That's right!

Now, this is a birthday TIMELINE. Going back all twelve years!

Let's start with Year One, shall we?

One year old. What a big girl? Who's a big girl? Yes, you are! Yes, you are!

Ahem.


Now, nobody in my family has the brain of an alien, and can't remember what presents I received on this magical day.

However, we do remember the cake very well.



What? The blue eyes? Yes, for the first five years of my life I had the most dazzling blue eyes. However, as I neared age six, they deserted me and magically turned color into almost emerald green. Which is NOT fair because I would look absolutely spectacular with blue eyes. Anyway, after emerald green lasted for a year, they were dark green until I was nine, and ever since they have been hazel. I hope I get purple next. CAN YOU IMAGINE ME WITH PURPLE EYES?? Ahh! So cute!

BUT THAT'S NOT IMPORTANT.

The most important thing is the cake.

Look closely... it's VANILLA!!

Yes, my poor parents had no idea that this little tyke they'd so horribly served vanilla cake to would grow up to be the most notorious chocolate-eater of all time.

VANILLA.

(Shakes head) My poor, ignorant parents. BUT. They had bought themselves some time. The big mistake of giving me a single spoonful of melted chocolate chips when I was two and a half, but that's later.

Anyway, I grabbed a big chunk of the tiny cake as soon as it was set of my highchair. What was this substance that smelled so heavenly? It was as warm and felt as the bubbles in my tub did. Was this... BUBBLEFOOD?

There was only one way to find out.

Being the dainty eater I am, I shoved my entire first into my mouth and carefully licked the frosting.

MMM. IT IS BUBBLEFOOD... ONLY TASTY!!!

And then something rich and moist hit my tongue. Is it...my sister's finger, which I gnawed on when I got the chance?

No, that tastes like flesh.

IS IT... MUD?

Nope. Mud tastes WAY worse, and I figured that out WAY too early.

"How do you like your cake?" my mother asked.

One word rang out in my mind. A scientific fact is that babies understand English years before they learn to speak it, and this was one of the words I knew before I could say it.

CAKE.

It was cake.

I like cake, I thought. M-M-More!!! M-M--M-MOOOORRREEEE!

I clawed at the cake like a mangy animal, slathering my body in it.



While I was eating, I accidentally flung a piece of cake over the side of my high chair.

WHAT. WHAT IS THAT.

The glob of cake fell to Earth, splattering on the tile. Mom quickly cleaned it up.

My breathing slowed to normal.

I carefully stuck my hand into the cake, and then shook my hand over the side of the high chair.

DO IT AGAIN.

To my satisfaction, a few crumbs of cake fell down.

Satisfied with my work, I smiled my toothless smile, and hopped up and down. Mom took away the cake, and I fell asleep as soon as she picked me up and held me against her body. She washed me while I slept, and I slept my whole birthday away.

END OF YEAR 1.


And what's next? YEAR TWO. Which, we remember nothing of. Sorry!

But, what I DO remember is...

THE DAY I TRIED CHOCOLATE.

I was obsessed with stacking things. Even though I was two, I could stack thin cylinders all the way up, even better than I do today.

So I was doing my duty; bouncing in my diaper as I tried to stack the cyllinders again for the four thousandth time, and I heard my mother calling my sister.

I took a bath any time, any where; even if somebody just went into the bathroom to pee I'd follow them and sit in the tub until they carried me out, and every time somebody took a bath, I wouldn't let them do it without ME.

So I didn't want to miss out on any bath extravaganza, and crawled into the kitchen, followed by my dad, who had been taping my cylinder activities.

"YUM, YUM, YUM!" My sister screamed as my mom handed her a spoonful of chocolate goodness. She popped it in her mouth, and then handed it back to Mom, who scooped another glob from a small plastic cup onto it, and handed it back to here.

Ana danced around the kitchen with her spoon.

What could make her so happy? I wondered.


That delectable which Ana was so greedily consuming was known in scientific terms as: Ecstasy. In reality terms: MELTED CHOCOLATE CHIPS.

I needed to get a piece of the action. I gurgled and reached for the spoon.

"You want some, Jane?" Mom asked. I reached for the spoon again. Mom handed me the final scoop.


And I popped the spoon in my mouth.


That was the start of it all.

YEAR 3:

After the cake on my third birthday, Mom and Dad walked me out to the driveway to glimpse my new...

FERRARI.



I wish.

It was a shiny, pink TRICYCLE.

Naturally, I fell in love with it right away, having the girlish nature to love pink at one point in my life.

I hopped on it and Dad held the handlebars as I zoomed around the driveway.



YEAR ( 4, 5, SKIP A FEW... DUM DE DE DUM...) 11!

The first thing I want to say is the cake, which is the best I've ever had. CHOCOLATE CAKE WITH CHOCOLATE CHIPS AND CHOCOLATE FROSTING. OH MY GOD.


It was amazing. But, it was agony. ALL DAY, ALL DAY...

ME: Cake? Now?

MOM: No, cake after dinner.

ME: But mo-om! I'm going to die if I don't have any cake RIGHT THIS MOMENT.

MOM: Stop the drama. Leave me alone.

ME: I will wither away to nothing! My cake meter is extremely low. If I don't have cake, the world will turn into a black hole and we all will die and perhaps even suck in the entire universe and what will be left? NOTHING. I need some cake right now, please.

MOM: Go away.

I followed her around the entire day, and was especially close to her when she was around the cake, perhaps moving it or frosting it.








I did everything for her. I set the table, I made her coffee, I drove her crazy... but I got no cake.

AND I WAITED FOR EIGHT TRILLION YEARS, BUT FINALLY....






(PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS NEXT PARAGRAPH IF YOU ARE ON A DIET)

That first bite was heavenly. It's rich, moist texture coated my teeth with the most beautiful taste imaginable .. the rich, splotches of Ghiradelli chocolate chips... the smooth, silky frosting...

(My mouth is watering. I have to stop)

And then, the PRESENTS.

Paper! A whole ream of paper! And a golf club! AND A PHONE. It is embarrassingly medieval, but I love it like a iPhone 4S.

YEAR 12:

Well, that hasn't happened yet. I promise I will post all about it as soon as possible.

SPOILER: Dad got me a Mac! We picked it out online, and now I can say goodbye to this ratty Toshiba! The only problem is, Paint and Word are different. We'll see.

STOP IT. You don't have to go to bed. It's only... what? 6:45? AM? Don't be silly! This Spectacular can't be over yet; that's why it's called a SPECTACULAR!

YES. THERE'S MORE.

Now it's time for an almost physically painful Birthday Story. You may skip this, if you like.

It was in 3rd grade. I brought cupcakes to school.

And they were heavy.

And we dropped them.

And I cried.

And there was lots of hugging.

THE END.

Yay! Hope that brightened your day.

Now, onto SOMETHING ELSE.

It's time to vote for PICTURE OF THE YEAR. (YAEEEY)

Also, why hog all the power? I want you, MY LOYAL, AMAZING, WONDERFUL, BEAUTIFUL, AWESOME, GOOD-CRAZY, GREAT, LOVELY, GRAND, EXQUISITE, EXCITING, MONUMENTALLY LOYAL, CUTE, HILARIOUS, FANTASTIC, GORGEOUS, STUNNING, GOOD-LOOKING, BEAUTEOUS, SPLENDID, RAVISHING, PICTURESQUE, HANDSOME, FAIR, EYE-OPENING, PERFECT readers, to vote on your own for PICTURE OF THE YEAR.

A BIRTHDAY LIST!
(Yes, I may be running out of ideas, but I think you'll enjoy it!)

1. FERARRI FANTASTY.

Ever since I can remember, I've been the car person of my family. Every family has one.

I drool on the glass of the car windows when we pass the Porsche store on the way to school, I spend hours online researching the fastest, most beautiful cars in existence.

This Ferrari Fantasy stuff all began one morning, I believe it was in August.

Dad was off on a run, and a pile of his magazines was on the counter. (He's a magazine guy.) One was set in my favorite place to sit. Mom served me pancakes, and as soon as I was finished ricocheting off the walls I noticed it peeking out behind my plate.

I read the first word: FERRARI, and began to drool.


It was a doorway to a whole new experience. I knew one thing; I had to have that car.

Which inspired me to write a book for money to get a car!

Which inspired me to add this next thing to my list.

2. AGENT


It's gonna be SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO cool! I'll get to wear dark clothes and sunglasses and get to have this pushy air that's like: HEY, BUDDY, YOU'D BETTER PUBLISH MY BOOK OR MY AGENT AND I WILL GET YOU.

Or, a Girl in Black!!!!

And then I'll be rich and famous! And famous! And rich! And adorable! And amazing! And rich!

3. MAKE YOUR OWN FONT SOFTWARE

This is possibly third most coolest thing on my list.
Oh. It is.

Right, then.

Since I hand-wrote my novel, I wanted to have my own handwriting for the font when I typed it up. The first website I visited listed it for $600, but the next site had it for $10.

I REALLY REALLY WANT IT. Mom says she'll talk to Dad, yay!!!!! Maybe I can get an Agent for Christmas, since already I'm getting a new laptop and maybe the font software.

BUT YAY.

Here's the link to this gorgeous invention: http://www.yourfonts.com/

4. MY OWN TV


Yes, I know this will never, ever, in a million trillion years come true, but a girl can dream, can't she?

5. CAKE

Even if I have to maul my Mom for it...



I WILL have the bestest cake ever.

UPDATE: It's my birthday!! Time to publish my post. I felt like a queen all day. I handed out munchkins to teachers and students and the teachers gave me stickers and lollipops in return! But then Ana threw out the bag with all my bday pencils, but I guess that's okay.

I came home and had some cup of soup. Then I went upstairs to do my homework. Then I came down and hunted for presents that Mom and Dad hid while I was doing my homework. Then we ate dinner. SOON WE WILL HAVE THE CAKE... HAHAHAHAHHAHAHA

MWA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


Ahem.

I WILL PUBLISH A POST AS SOON AS I OPEN MY PRESENTS, I PROMISE.

But for now, goodbye, dear blog!

Hope you enjoyed my TWELFTH BIRTHDAY SPECTACULAR!!!!!!!!!

--Jane

Congratulations for putting up a year of my social awkwardness, comedic genuineness, and weird drawings.


Tuesday, October 2, 2012

Birthday Trailer

Dunnnnn



Dunnnnnnnnn




Dunnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn











































DUN NUNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN (BOM BOM BOM BOM)

























DUNNNN










DUNNNNNN









DUNNNNN DUHHHHHHHHHHHHH












































In 10 days....











The most epic birthday celebration ever...










DUN DUN DUN DUN DUN DUNNNNN



DUN DUN
































Jane Cooper turns twelve.


DUN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


















COMING OCTOBER 11TH.
--Jane

Monday, September 17, 2012

Short Story 2

Lana Skyward had lived in Texas all her life.

Married to Lance Skyward, the two had been married for eight years, and both were thirty one. They had no children, but enjoyed the peaceful serenity of their farm for eight glorious years. They'd known each other for their entire lives, and had been next door neighbors since forever.

On July 3rd, 2012, their lives were changed forever.

CHAPTER 1:

July 3rd
Lance gave another futile attempt at asking me for kids. I declined, as usual. Besides, we'd have to home school it for its entire life. There are no other houses out here, I'd hate for it to be lonely. I'm not a very good teacher, either.


Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

Lana froze mid-sentence in her diary. Nobody had ever, ever come to visit their small cottage way out here.

Lance slid open the glass door to the patio and stepped inside.

"Was that the..." he stammered, eyes big as plates. Lana nodded stiffly. The couple hurried to the door.

Taking a deep breath, Lana swung open the door.


It was a small girl. She was dirty and scruffy. What was she doing alone in the middle of no where?

LANA: Hello.

GIRL: Hallo!

LANA: Where are your parents?

GIRL: Parants?

LANA: Pear-ants. Your mommy and daddy.

GIRL: Oh!! Mommy go boom boom, daddy go bye bye.

Lana glanced at Lance.

LANCE: Your mommy and daddy are dead?

GIRL: Yes! Mommy go big, big boom. And fire. And Daddy in bed in big place with tube on face.

The girl acted like a three year old, but she was obviously ten or eleven.

GIRL: Man in mask say I am funny in here.

The girl pointed to her head.

GIRL: They say I have to go to big, smelly place with old lady who treats me like dirt.

She stomped her bare foot, sending up a cloud of dust.

GIRL: So I go out window to road. I walk. Many people try hurt me. I walk more. I am tired. I knock here. Hello! What name?

LANA: Excuse us for a second. Stay right here, okay, honey?

GIRL: Right here!

The girl stiffened and squeezed her eyes shut, rooted to the spot. Lana turned to converse with Lance.

LANA, WHISPERING: She said that a doctor said that she's crazy. Her father died in a hospital and her mother died in some sort of explosion or a fire. She's got no where to go. I think they were going to send her to an orphanage, but she wasn't happy so she sneaked out.

LANCE: Thank you, I was having trouble understanding.

LANA: Let's take her inside until we figure out what to do.

LANCE: All right.

They turned back to the small girl.

LANCE: You can open your eyes now.

The girl opened her eyes and relaxed.

LANA: Come on inside. What's your name?

GIRL: I called Kid.

Lana and Lance looked at each other.

LANA: Okay... so why don't you choose a name for yourself?

The girl entered the house.


LANA: Are you hungry?

GIRL: You mean food?

LANA: What else?

GIRL: If you have oats or carrots, I have that. But if too much to ask, I have grass.

LANA: Grass! Is that what you have been eating for the past year or so?

GIRL: Years. I been walking for four years.

LANA: My God!

LANCE: Would you like some cake?

GIRL: Cake?

LANCE: Yes. It is a rich pastry.

GIRL: I guess.

Lance served her some cake and all three sat at the table. The girl dug in with her fingers. Lana wanted to say something, but didn't.

GIRL: I like cake!

The girl then put her fingers at her lap and looked around impatiently. She hadn't even eaten a quarter of her cake.

LANA, SOFTLY: Aren't you going to finish your cake?


GIRL: Oh. No.

LANA: Why not?

GIRL: I already eaten more than have all week. Very full.

Lana stared pitifully at the small piece of the cake she had eaten.

After Lance cleared away the girl's plate, Lana took the girl's way too small dress off and weighed her in the bathroom. The poor scrawny thing only weighed seventy pounds. She said that she was about to turn twelve. She marked the days on her stomach, where little faded tally marks stared at Lana when her dress was off.

The girl changed into a old nightgown of Lana's, and they headed downstairs.

GIRL: I choose name now. Should I be called Kid, Child or Girl?

LANA: That's not normal names. Like, my name is Lana.

GIRL: Oh, nice name! Can I be... Anal?

LANA: No, I don't think so.

Lana removed her Baby Names book from the shelf. On one of their rare trips into the nearest town, Lance had bought her that book against her will, and forbid her to throw it away. She brushed off the dust and handed it to the girl.

GIRL: Help me?

LANA: With what?

GIRL: With reading. I out of practice.

LANA: Well, okay.

Lana and the girl settled into the couch to read.


Lana and the girl slowly navigated their way through the book. Soon, they came to the section UNUSUAL NAMES, and the girl was getting better at reading.

GIRL: Spark, Nah... nah...

LANA: Nazneen.

GIRL: Nahzeen, Adara, Freyja...

She paused.

LANA: What is it?

GIRL: I been called Spark before. By another girl.

LANA: Who?

GIRL: Not sure. I was walking by festival. Big signs with fours.

LANA: You must have been walking by a fourth of July festival.

GIRL: Yes, yes! That's it! It was year into walking. I was in Nevada. There was a girl, my age. She took me over to her family after I had told her my story. Her parents looked at me funny. They looked concerned. And then girl said, 'You are very tough and brave. You shine out in the darkness of your life like a firework. Someday, your spark will be a fire, and you will be happy.'

LANA: Then I suppose Spark suits you.

Lana closed the book. Spark spotted Lance heading out into the fields to farm.

SPARK: Hey! What his name?

LANA: His name is Lance.

SPARK: Lance! Hey Lance!

Spark ran straight at Lance, and in full force smashed into the sliding glass door. Lana gasped and hurried over to help her up.



Spark just stared at the door, absolutely dumbfounded, until Lana opened it, and then she snapped out of it and bolted after Lance.

Lance turned around when he heard Spark calling. He held a small knife, helpful to cutting off corn.

Spark gasped and grabbed Lance's hand. In a moment she had twisted it out of his fingers and flipped his stunned body over her own and had her foot on his throat.


Lana screamed as she sprinted towards them. Lance was frozen beneath Spark's bare foot.

LANA: Spark!! What are you doing??!!

LANCE: Spark...?

SPARK: He was going to cut me!

LANCE: No, I...

SPARK: Be quiet!!!

She pushed her foot harder against Lance's throat and he let out a mangled gurgle.

LANA: Spark!!! Let Lance up RIGHT NOW!!

Spark stared at her. After what seemed like years of silence, Spark lifted her foot and let go of his hand. She let Lance stand.

LANCE: How did you learn how to fight like that?

Spark began to walk away, hugging her dress close.

LANA: Spark! Where are you going?

SPARK: You mad. I leave now.

LANA: No, no!!

She hurried to catch up with Spark. It was unbearable, letting this small child go on, walking the dusty road for the rest of her life. She knelt down beside Spark.

LANA: Nobody's mad. Just, you can't attack people.

SPARK: He was going to cut me!

LANA: That knife was used to cutting corn. He wouldn't ever, ever cut you. I promise.

Spark's eyes glazed over. She quickly blinked the tears away.

LANCE, APPROACHING: Where did you learn how to fight like that?

SPARK: Along the road. People try take what little I have. I have to fight to keep it.

LANA: Are you crying?



SPARK: No.

LANA: It's okay to cry.

SPARK: No. Crying is sign of weakness.

LANA: Crying is a sign of feeling, honey.

Spark was quiet.

LANA: Nobody's mad at you. Would you like to come in and finish your cake?

SPARK: Yes.

And Spark followed Lana inside.

CHAPTER 2

Spark was staring at herself in the mirror when Lance pulled Lana aside for a chat.

LANCE: One night.

LANA: Of course. Spark, honey, brush your teeth.

Spark picked up a hairbrush.

LANA: No, no...

She handed Spark a toothbrush and patiently explained what to do with it. Then she returned to Lance.

LANCE: Honey? Honey? You've named her, and now you're calling her as if she was your daughter.

LANA: Do you remember that kid in the fourth grade back home in Austin?

LANCE: Of course. Everybody hated the poor twerp. But you didn't.

LANA: Yes. He was so corrupted... I felt like I could... fix him.

The couple stared at each other for a while, and then Lana spoke again.

LANA: It's the same with Spark. If we can fix her...

LANCE: You said you didn't wanted children.

LANA: Yes, but...

LANCE: Well, all right. It is for just one night, right?

LANA: Right.

Lana took Spark to the guest bedroom and tucked her in.

SPARK, YAWNING: Why this fluffy?

LANA: It's called a bed.

SPARK: I know what bed is. My daddy died in one. But when I hopped on it, it was hard as rock. When I held his hand until he died, I sad that he had to die on such a hard one. So I never slept on bed again. But this bed fluffy. I sleep in it tonight.

LANA: Glad you like it. Good night.

Lana stood and walked out the door. As soon as she was gone, Spark climbed out of bed and curled up on the hardwood floor.


CHAPTER 3

The next morning, Spark was already sitting down at the table when Lana emerged at 7 AM.

LANA: Spark! How long have you been up?

SPARK: Since the sun.

LANA: Well, would you like some breakfast?

Spark looked puzzled.

LANA: Would you like some food?

SPARK: Oh. No. I'll eat later.

LANA: I'll make you an egg, anyway. You need to get used to eating at least three times a day. It's not healthy to eat as little as you do. Your ribs are like handles.

Lana put the pot on the stove.

She cracked an egg into it, and then, after she had cooked it, served it to Spark. Spark looked up at Lana, and then tore a tiny, tiny bit off with her finger, and put it in her mouth.

LANA: Here, come with me.

She led Spark to the bathroom and taught her how to wash her hands. Then she returned to the table, and showed Spark a fork.

SPARK: I never used this since I went to the mean lady's place for a day.

She picked up the entire egg and stuffed it into her mouth.

LANA: Why don't you eat smaller bites? If you eat too big of bites, you could choke. Here's a knife.

Spark hissed and ran from the room.

LANA: Spark! Knives are used to cutting food, not yourself! Come back!

Spark peeked around the corner to the living room.

SPARK: Put it away.

Lana obediently returned the knife to its drawer. Spark crept back towards the table.

SPARK: Knives are bad. No matter size, shape, color. They mean. They so, so, mean!!

Spark closed her eyes and scrunched up their face.

SPARK: They kill daddy. They give me this.

Spark moved away her uneven hair to reveal an ugly scar right in front of her ear that trained down the side of her face.

LANA: Knives can be dangerous, if the wrong person is holding it. It wasn't the knives fault that it killed your daddy or gave you that scar. It was the man controlling the knife. If you control your knife, it won't hurt you. Let's practice cutting up food.

Lana moved her toast to Spark's plate and Spark sat down.

Soon, Spark was wielding a knife better than Lana, and cut up an entire salad for Lance by the time he came downstairs.

SPARK: Cutting is good! If do right!

She put the knife on the counter and skipped away. Then she stopped.

SPARK: I thirsty.

Lana filled a cup of water from the sink and handed it to Spark. She guzzled down the entire glass, and then put her face beneath the faucet.

SPARK: Never know when drink again. Need drink now.

LANA: Oh. Well, we'll send you off with some water and food.

SPARK: Okay! I leave now.

LANCE: Oh.

LANA: Oh.

Spark waited by the door as Lana and Lance packed things for Spark. They both were silent.

When they returned to Spark with a bindle, (Yes, it is a word. It is a knapsack on a stick) Spark was gone.

They stood there, puzzled, until there was a knock on the door. They opened it. Spark stood there, holding a squirming mass of fuzz, smiling.

SPARK: I bring dog! As thanks!

LANA: Oh, that's okay, honey. You don't have to thank us...

Ignoring Lana, Spark released the animal inside.



SPARK, TAKING BINDLE: Bye!!

Spark marched off down the road without another word.

Lana and Lance just stood there. They closed the door to not let the dog escape and then watched her walk off from the porch. Spark never turned back.

Images flashed through Lana's mind.





LANA: NO!!!!!

Lana sprinted after Spark.

Spark turned when she heard Lana coming.

LANA: Spark, won't you come and live with us? I can't bear the thought of you walking the road for the rest of your life! Please! Come live with Lance and I!

SPARK: Well...

LANA: We'll teach you how to go to school, how to behave, all those things! We'll even move back into town, if you like! Please!

SPARK: And no bad men hurt me?

LANCE, RUNNING UP: No. Never. If they hurt you, they'd have me to answer to.

SPARK: And cake?

LANA: Yes! All the cake you want!

SPARK: Yes! Yay!

LANA: Oh, Spark! Welcome home!

All three hugged, and walked back to begin their new life.

EPILOGUE:

When that small girl showed up on the Skywards' doorstep, they couldn't imagine how fast she would enchant them. Soon, Spark was ready to begin 6th grade, and they moved back into Austin. Spark's story was known all over town, and soon she became a legend.

Spark graduated from high school with straight As, and got picked up by Baylor University almost immediately. Spark is the author of a novel, Roadrunner, all about her adventures on the road.

Spark grew up to have four kids and marry a small boy from school. Lana died when Spark was 45, and Lance died when Spark was 60. Spark died on October 4th, 2078, at the age of 77. She actually learned to sleep in a bed.

Nobody would forget her.

--Jane




Little more serious than usual, but hope you liked it anyhow! :)

Tuesday, July 24, 2012

The Carnival

The Northport Fire Department, a fire department a block from my house, owns this HUGE field. Like, overnight, the NFD fair set up.
I couldn't believe it. One moment it was a big, empty field...
...the next, it was this....
So you see, I'm a total weenie when it comes to carnival rides.

But, when I first stepped inside of the carnival, I saw that there weren't any 'medium' rides; which are the rides between embarrassingly kiddy and extreme.
I knew I would be forced to go on the extreme rides, and I stalled as much as I could.
At the pig races, the owner of the pigs picks out one member of the audience for each color, blue, red, yellow, and green. If your pig wins, he gives you a little slip that says,
I PICKED THE FIRST PLACE PIG AT THE PIG RACES
He actually called on me in the second round for yellow, and all terror of the impending rides was momentarily forgotten.
And in the end, I WON! I got my blue slip, and Dad and I wanted to stay for the remaining two races.
Ana, less amused, went off to try the riptide. After the pig races, we met Ana at the base of the riptide.

ANA: It was so, so awesome!

ME, STARING AT THE RIPTIDE: ...
DAD, POINTING TO KIDDY RIDE NEXT TO RIPTIDE: I think Jane wants to go on that one.

ANA:  Are you kidding?!!!!

ME, STARING AT THE RIPTIDE: ...

DAD: I have an idea. (whispers)

ME, STARING AT THE RIPTIDE: ...

They led me over to the line to the Swirlin' Berries, ginormous strawberries which turned lazily around.
I was just about to step through the gate when Dad yanked me towards the riptide.
It wasn't the line for the Swirlin' Berries, it was the line for the RIPTIDE.

ME: You tricked me!

DAD, INNOCENT LOOK: Who, me?

It was too late to get out of it. I scrambled for the back row, knowing I couldn't see over the wall in front of me. Nevertheless, I shielded my eyes and refused to drop my hands. The entire ride kind of went like this:

When I stepped off of the ride, I was a changed person.
Something had changed inside of me. After that one ride, the extreme terror had mutated my DNA... changed every scardy-cat cell inside of me...
Now it was a hunger. A hunger for extreme... a hunger for terror.
After four more times on the riptide, I conquered the Zipper...
Then The Round Up...
The Super Slide...
The Sizzler...

Okay not the sizzler...

The Dragon Loops...

Okay, not that either...

But you get the point. I went on all of the extreme rides except for those two, and went home happy that night.

The next morning Dad's work friend Jim brought his daughter, Olivia, and her two friends over to go to the carnival.
Olivia and her friends are nine, and really loud. But I like them very much, and they loved to play fetch with the dogs. Only, this must be a nine year old thing, they like avoiding the sanitary way of using the Chucket...
...and instead, picking up the gooey tennis balls that the dogs have layered in spit with their bare hands.

But, anyway, I showed them the Cabana outside, the trampoline, the pool... and then we set off for the long, harsh, one hundred feet journey to the carnival.

When we arrived, the girls wanted to go on the Riptide. Me, being the cool big kid for once in my life, said,
From Left to Right... Olivia, Chloe, and... erm.... The Other One.
I was just getting on to a story about how I had climbed a tree when Dad hustled us over to see the pig races again. Ana went off to have the rest of the night to herself and her friend, Rachel, she had invited over, and after two pig races I got bored and went on the Riptide, and everybody next to me screamed so loud that the girls looked up at me in envy. I put on my cool face, and appeared bored, and afterward I resumed my cool swagger-like walk, as if I hadn't been affected at all.
After the riptide, the girls and I walked around, searching for good rides. I steered them away from the two rides that I was still terrified to go on, but, after the roundup, they caught sight of the dragon loops.
They pulled me over to the dragon loops, and asked me what I thought of it.
I couldn't let them know I hadn't gone on it.
We waited in line for fifteen minutes, and then I climbed in with The Other One. Olivia chickened out and didn't go on, and by the way she couldn't stop laughing I'm guessing she'd heard me screaming my head off the entire time.
I wish I could record my scream and put it here, and you'll understand how loud I scream.
Afterwards, the girls were terrified and didn't go on again.
I had to keep them away from the sizzler.
It was too much for my very large grammatical brain to take. The individual sock-shaped cages twist and turn and flip and flop and it's so scary!
Fortunately, they were too scared to go on it, and the night passed with relief.
Tomorrow was the last night of the carnival. It went smoothly; I skipped the kiddy rides and coolly went on the extreme ones.
Oh, and once there was this kid across from me doing the macarena on the roundup.
It was really bothering me, so I made a face at him until he looked at me.
No, his face is not bleeding. He's blushing.
Anyway, on the last night, after a brief two rounds of piggies, I went off to mingle and do my share of rides, until it was almost about time to leave.
I stared bravely in the eye of the sizzler, and I knew that I had to go on it.

Known in Diary of a Wimpy Kid (Dog Days) as the Cranium Shaker, the sizzler was a very unsanitary ride. Whenever somebody barfed on it, they just threw buckets of water on it.
Yet I knew I would never become a man unless I went on it, so I hopped in line and patiently waited for ten minutes, ignoring my fears and focusing on three boys trying to get a five dollar bill with a stick from outside of the roped off area.
Finally, it was my turn to go on. Before I went on, I felt a little bit of a drizzle. Worried it was raining, I quickly hopped inside.
Ana, being the loveliest sister ever, went on with me. She had already gone on it with Rachel, and just as we had been strapped in she told me she regretted her decision, and after having watched the sizzler through only one rotation, I was scared out of my very large grammatical mind.
The ride began.
It can't be drawn, so I shall use my words.
Ana looked puzzled as the ride came to a halt.
"That was only a quarter of how long it was when I went on it," she said to me. I couldn't register English anymore; even if the ride had just been a quarter long.
I waved at Mom through the bars, but she looked revolted as she half-heartedly waved back. Rachel was looking a little green as well.
When we stepped off of the ride I realized it wasn't raining. I hadn't felt any drops on the ride, either, but it had been pouring so much when I had gotten on the ride.
Mom quickly pulled me towards the exit.
"Hey! Where're we going?" I demanded.
"We have to take Rachel home," Mom declared nervously.
"Hey, Mom, why was the ride so short?" Ana asked. Mom made a face.
"What happened?" I asked her. "And it was raining before I got on the ride. I felt it."
"I felt it too," Ana said.
"I don't know what that was," Mom said. "But your ride was so short because two people in two separate cars in front of you vomited." My eyes went wide.
"Is that what we felt?" I asked her. "The rain?"
"Probably," she answered. "But that was before the two people threw up. Those guys working it were like, oh no! And it smelled really bad. All they do are throw buckets of water on it, but they didn't have buckets of water, so they just left the cars empty, I think." We walked in silence home. The carnival sure had ended with a bang.
All of us didn't want to go back after the sizzler, and our carnival adventures were over.
It was the best carnival ever.

--Jane