Ok! So first things first, this last Saturday's themed party was a huge success.
I'm really excited at the prospect of continuing to host theme parties in the future. This party was pirate-themed; we all dressed like pirates, and even had grog and Caribbean music playing. The grog (rum, water, sugar, and lime juice) was a huge hit! Yosh put it out in a big blue punch bowl, and the first batch was gone in about two hours. He only made one more batch after that, but only because we ran out of juice.
There was no drama in the house this time, unless you count Nicole climbing into the attic crawl space as drama, but I count it as "flavor." Yeah, Nicole Garces decided she wanted to be up in the crawl space above the garage, then in the house's crawl space. I followed on the second crusade, and we found duct tape (score!), the biological and technological distinctiveness of which has been added unto our own. We are the borg, resistance is futile.
The next theme party we are planning is going to be a Mardi Gras party, like a masquerade. Our new roommate, Stephen Carter, (oh yeah, we have replaced Ray now) tells me masquerade parties are a lot of fun. So, this Saturday, I will be hosting a mask-choosing party, similar to a tupperware party, if you know how those work. It turns out that my friend from Physics & Calc classes, Bradon, has a girlfriend who makes and sells fancy masquerade masks. So, Saturday will be the day for people to come over, have some champagne, hang out, and most importantly, figure out what they want to buy from Bradon's girlfriend, or even have her make a custom mask. Both the mask party and the full masquerade should be a lot of fun. Also on deck are a zombie party, an 80's party, and maybe even a Hawaiian Luau when it gets closer to the summer.
Here is a short story I wrote for my Creative Writing class called "Short Story". It is an incomplete story, but the assignment was only to get through a chunk of the rising action.
Short Story
Maria swung herself down from the apple tree she was climbing, her bare feet sinking into the moist grass beneath the tree. She folded herself down onto the ground in front of her younger brother Edward, their knees touching, both bent forward to inspect their treasures.
Edward picked from the little pile of dirt in his hand an earthworm, the plunder from their joint expedition to the bank of the creek behind their house, and presented it to his older sister. “See,” said Maria, “worms like to live in apples,” and she placed the worm onto the apple to see if it would burrow in. They watched their little friend squirm upon the apple’s surface until it fell off into the grass.
“Get it, get it!” yipped Edward. Maria plucked up the earthworm and tossed it onto Edward’s face in one motion. He squealed in equal terror and delight, falling over backwards, dropping the rest of his worm-dirt in the grass.
Maria’s twin brother Sebastian stepped out of the woods and called out to her. “Maria, mira,” Sebastian beckoned Maria over to see what he was holding. Maria shuffled to her feet to see the prize that Sebastian had brought back to them. Sebastian carried his shirt bundled up in his arms, but dumped it at Maria and Edward’s feet. He kneeled in the grass, unfolding the cloth to reveal a small box-turtle that Sebastian had found in the pond in the woods. Edward squealed again, clapping his little hands, wanting to hold the little brown and green turtle.
“Edwardito, no, vas a casa,” said Sebastian to little Edward, telling him to go home.
“I want it, I want it!” cried Edward.
Sebastian left the shirt on the ground and carried the turtle away, its head and legs tucked defensively inside its shell. “You want to see it?” chided Sebastian, “Then go and get it!”
Maria realized what Sebastian was about to do and threw her hands out at Sebastian crying “Hermano, no!” but it was too late. Sebastian threw the little turtle as he did with many other toys of Edward’s, up on to the steep roof of their house. The poor creature bounced dully off the cedar shingles of the garage, then slid down into the gutter overhanging the back porch.
Little Edward balled his fists into his own messy brown hair, and made a face like he was going to throw a fit. But he didn’t. Fists still in his hair, he ran across the grass and through the open back porch door into the house.
“Edward, no! Wipe your feet! No, no, no!” screamed their mother from somewhere in the house. “You come back down here this instant! Don’t make me come up there!” She started counting, as if that was all it would take to bring the youngster back and stop the muddy foot-prints from continuing on through the house.
Outside, Sebastian laughed. Maria hit him on the arm twice, three times, rattling off all the bad words she knew. “Now mama’s going to make us clean up the mud in the kitchen, Sebastardo,” Maria swore at Sebastian.
“I gone get it, I gone get it!” they heard from around the corner of the house. Out of his bedroom window, Edward climbed, dropping slowly down towards the peak of the garage roof.
“Edward, no! Come down from there!” shouted Maria up to her little brother.
Edward dangled by his elbows and forearms, trying to reach with his tiptoes the steeply angled roof. For his older brother, this would have been an easy task, but Edward’s little feet dangled dangerously a full three feet or more above the shingled roof.
