The Invasion: Stage 2: Counter-measures

As you may have read before, my faithful Bloggians, I shared with you my strong dislike for the event known as open dorm. Tonight, I threw a spin on the evening. I said to myself, "Self, there is no need to continue to have a bad 'tude about this... this could be good....or at least non-sucky."

So I got out of the room, mainly to tune Liz's guitar for her. Poor girl is both tone-deaf and rhythmically challenged. (Liz if you're reading this, know that I love you as a friend and we both know the truth on the matter.) As I'm getting ready to venture to the girls' dorm, guess who walks in my room... the one, the only, the short, Liz Stewart. So we proceed to her domecile, I lose her two or three times. After that, she told me to meet her in her room, that eventually she'd be there. So I wander....

I dropped in to say hi to K8e and Billings and check her room-scene. Then I wander to various rooms, just diggin the scenery and I stumble into a room that I did not expect. I walked into the Tri-apartment area of Amy Smith and crew... and I guess because of lack of observance or concern....I stumbled into a Sasha Blaikie's room.

Now see, you have to understand, Sasha and I are the friends that never hung out. Like, I think she's cool and all, and have no clue her opinion of me, but who cares...We joke around in classes and stuff, but we've never gotten the chance to hang out. So last year when everyone was in the frenzy of signing each other's yearbooks, I wrote in her book something to the effect of "Hey Sasha, it's been a cool year getting to not getting a chance to hang out with you... even tho you're cool....this is normally the spot where I'd put an inside joke, but unfortunately, we don't have one. Damien." However, we now have two personal jokes. Anywho, back to the present,

So anyways, we're talking and stuff, mostly about music.... and I notice that she has not just one, but both Skalelluia! albums!!!! At this point I am amazed and quiet impressed. If that wasn't all, she staples these pages together that she was working on and she had purple staples....and not only did she have then, she gave me some of them. The jury is in and the verdict reads that Sasha Blaikie officially rocks socks. (It's a Damienism, if you don't like, I don't care)

So the invasion backfired and I turned out to be the victor.....and have purple staples now. Anywho - all, I am out to fill out forms that should have been done already! Peace in the Middle East - rock it in Russia!

Publishing for the Obsessive-Complusive Writer:

Ok, so last semester I was sitting next to my friend Tanya Campbell in Gospels class and this dude comes up and is all hitting on her and junk. I lean over to her and whisper, "He wants you....." She's like "Nah-uh...he's got a girl-friend..... doesn't he?" With the look of doom on her face, in what seems to be slowed time, I shake my head. "No....they broke up over the summer." The look of doom turned quickly to panic and terror. I take full advantage of this and I'm all acting like him, "Hey baby, what's up? You think maybe after this class you and I could....ya know.....like....go to Tim's?" I took full advanage of the situation and got inspiration for a short series... Here is a the first installment:

*clears throat*

A Bethany Relationship Soap Opera.....a progressive biography

(Narrator interjection: Due to a cheap budget and advancement in ideas, we have fired our editor and replaced him with a fancy name)

As the Timbit Rolls: A daytime-melodramatic-digitally-remastered-overly-hyped Soap Opera

(This episode of As The Timbit Rolls is taped before a live studio audience)

The Introduction to Boy:
Once upon a hill, there was place were people lived. Young people at that. On this hill there was a boy, who saw this girl and he thought to himself...."if only they would play a slow song....so I might take that girl in my arms...and slow dance with her like there is no tomorrow...." (Narrator interruption: and tanya says. . . cheesy!!!. . . and so the story continues. . . )
In his mind this girl was it...he had only known her a week....I'm sorry, a week and a day...he sat next her once in class....he gave her a ride down the hill in his car...he knew that deep down, oh yes, deep down this very girl was the one! He thought to himself, if only I could ask her out.....to Tim Hortons. Then we would go on walks together and I would talk to her on MSN....in the computer lab....while sitting next to her. And when that time is right.....when we've been going steady....to Tims...... I will ask her...that perfect girl.....would be my honey bunches of oats forever.....(now tanya gags. . . and the story continues. . . )
So they go on another walk and he picks her dandelions and tells her that he will show his love to her through tim bits. . . it was a wonderful relationship. He circles her picture in the Wedding Catalogue (also called the annual pictorial directory),, ,and he is really happy. . . but is she? (Due to Tanya's poor typing skills, we will leave this section unedited)

The Continued Saga......(The Story of a Girl):
He was a boy, she was a girl, can I make it any more obvious.....(shuts off the song Sk8er Boi ....) She heard about this school and was excited. She really didn't care what classes she had. All she knew is that she was there for her MRS. degree. School was all about finding that right boy....and there were a lot of them. With so many to choose from, she decides to go after them all....ok, maybe she wasn't that shallow, but it sure came across to be that way.
(Laughter is had by all who have read...and the story continues)
Oh, but sweet destiny! Fate's wheels turn and the girl spends more time with our main male character, thus fueling his endless thoughts of her. She finds that he is studying a different program than her, but it doesn't matter. They are happy.
The two have embarked on yet another voyage to Tim Horton's...the pillar of every relationship. It was blissfully wonderful, they talked and the boy shared his Timbits....and she knew that this must be true love! But as surely as dairy products give one gas, at that part of their outing, it happened. The boy said, "Darling, I think it's time that we take a step forward in our relationship....I think we should go to McDonalds." GASP!

(Narrator interjection: Could it be true!? Is she willing to make this step? What will it do to their relationship?! WHAT WILL THE CAMPUS THINK! Find out on the next semi-exciting and pathetically real episode of As The Timbit Rolls!!!!)

Keep Waiting

I was far away from here, felt like a million miles
Under unfamiliar skies, in more than one way far from dreams I'd dreamed
I'd seen the blinding light, there was hope but was there time
Slow trigger starting line, and each day of waiting seemed eternity

You never left my side
You never left my mind

So they will open up their mouths, but really who are they
And soon enough they'll fade away, only blind but soon they'll have to see
Fear like a cancer spreads, how many more will drop their eyes
Lift their hands and wait to die, and how much time to spend to see who stands
But I think I know the way, I got a promise on the mind, and I'll be looking for what's mine
Sovereign stillness whispers trust in me

In just a little while
They'll wish that they were silent

Keep waiting, I'll be right on time
Keep waiting, I'll be right on time

In just a little while
They'll wish that they were silent

And when they try to take your eyes off of me, remember
And when they try to take your eyes off of me, remember me

Keep Waiting, I'll be right on time
Keep Waiting, I'll be right on time

In just a little while, they'll wish that they were silent

The Plague:

I'm not exactly sure what type or form of disease I have caught, but the truth of the matter is that I am sick. I don't enjoy this feeling at all. For the hours that I have been wading through the fogginess in my head, I have been living on Halls burn-your-ears-eyes-nose-and-throat cough drops and any form of paper product ("sandpaper' included) that could serve for ejecting the mucus-like masses from my nostril cavities.

I think yesterday afternoon/evening, I pumped 6 echinacia in me, used a substantial amount of tissues, and 7 Halls nuclear-warhead-in-a-little-white-wrapper cough drops in attempt to dethrone King Pestilence. However, I am STILL sick. Right now all I want is to lack responsibilities and have attendant circle me with orange juice and chicken noodle soup. Maybe if I give the "puppy dog that was thrown into the air by a Mack truck and recieved on the other end by Sammy Sosa's baseball bat" look, someone might have a form of pity on me and attend to my current needs.

I hate being sick. I think that sickness is tough on anyone, but I think that when a guy gets sick, they are reduced to a helpless pile of flesh and bones with the ability to whine and cry until someone takes pity on them. It is at moments like these that I wish for one of two things: that Mom was here or the I had a girlfriend. Both would express much concern and pity for the ones the care about when they fall victim to "the plague". The biggest difference between the two would be that Mom would tell you straight up what you need to do to get better and a g/f would jokingly tell you to "Suck it up, Princess" and listen to Mom.

Maybe all I'm trying to say is that I wouldn't mind a little pity. Any form of pity would be great about now. But until I recieve some, I will exist as that pile of flesh and bones, living off of Halls anthrax-to-ailments drops and tissues and soup.