In The Loop
I have gone the extra mile in becoming a true internet poser/dork. I have a forum. It’s on the left, there. Or, if you’re lazy, it’s right here. This will be a better way for people to congregate and what have you. I’m going over the costs of paying for the forum to get rid of the advertising, but will only consider it based on it’s use. Specifically I am using the forum for Vampire, but there is a General section for the homies and random visitors.
Go on, you can join. It’ll be fun, really.
My brother Corey gave me Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban on the Cube. I am not a true connoisseur of the Harry Potter games, as I’ve only played Chamber of Secrets and Quidditch before this, missing Sorcerer’s Stone. So I missed one game, eat me.
In Chamber of Secrets you controlled Harry around the castle, going to classes, collecting Bertie Bott’s Beans, killing bad creatures, playing Quidditch, etc. It was pretty cool, but the controls weren’t great. The game was very linear. There wasn’t as much area to explore as I would have liked.
Prisoner is very different. It’s almost reminiscent of one of the 3d Zelda games. You control Harry, Ron, and Hermione through the castle this time. Sometimes you can switch between the lot fo them, just two, or you are forced to get through an area with just one of them. They each are learning different spells (Hermione faster than the other two, of course) and have different built in abilities, so you do have to switch between them pretty regularly. For example, Ron can open secret doors (he is a Weasley, after all), so using him to walk around is ideal.
I’m not too far in the game at this point. I have yet to play any Quidditch, and don’t know for certain that it’s even in the game. The controls are a bit better, flying on Buckbeak is pretty nifty, and hearing the three of them talk to eachother is pretty funny.
I have yet to finish this game, so I feel hesitant in writing any kind of real review, but it has already left a very positive impression on me. I mean I’ve ridden on a Hippogriff. It’s awesome. The last game had gnome tossing as a side game. Gnome tossing. Anyway, the real deal is that it’s distracting me from buying the game I really want to buy.
Zelda Four Swords. I’m giddy thinking about how awesome it could be, and I don’t even know half of the greatness. I’m putting together a foursome to play. I know that I’m going to lose hours of my life to this wonderous game. 4 Links on one screen kicking ass. I’m beside myself.
Oh, and yer mom.
No, this isn’t about Rush. This is about a few people in the cast that would be my after school special.
Do you forgive those that have hurt you knowingly?
If they did it more than once?
If they don’t feel sorry for their actions?
If they didn’t listen to your previous warnings, even though they asked for your input?
If they may have a mental condition that might explain some of their hurtful actions?
If they were being “controlled?”
If you think they might hurt you again? (this would be a different “snake”)
If they still, after all this time, haven’t talked to you to find out what the problem is?
I want to be more tolerant. I want to be forgiving. I’m still very hurt and angry, so it’s very challenging. Especially when I’ve got all those whoppers going through my head.
So, oh my brothers, I have left you for almost a full week with nary a post in sight. I am happy to say that the journey of Chris and Milca was an eventful one, so this shall be a whopper of a post for you. I am also happy to say that this post will be of a more positive note than the previous two, and those topics will be on the backburner for the time being. But now, as promised, the journey began…
On the 11th, Friday, my brithday, at 7 am. We got up, got the rental car, packed it, and left around 9 am. Not as early as I would have liked, but we made good time. We stopped for our last In ‘n Out along Interstate 5, met a wacky biker who told us of his riding tales, making the break in an otherwise boring and dreary location somewhat tolerable and even enjoyable.
It took almost exactly 11 hours to get to Ashland, Oregon, where we stayed with my Uncle Craig (my father’s brother), my Aunt Karen (I have 3 Aunt Karens, this is the only one on my father’s side), my cousins Hannah (the only female born a Loop in well over a hundred years), and Michael (A quiet, well mannered, and extremely curious and monkey-like five year old). Karen is a teacher, preschool teacher to be more specific. She studied the Waldorf method, which is how you would rrefer to it I suppose, which was very new to me. My dad painted a rather not positive image of this method when I was younger, and I had made negative comments about it to my cousin Griffin (Craig’s son from a previous marriage who has since moved to Mt. Shasta) when we were younger. In hindsight, I was just an angry little boy who was talking out of one of his not so clean orrafices. I am completely enthralled by the entire theory and process of Waldorf now, though. I wouldn’t be opposed to studying it myself. My thirst for knowledge greatens… MUAHAHAHAHA!
We spent a good deal of time in Ashland, survived a rare domestic incident in the neighborhood that ruffled the feathers of the little ones (and some of the not so young ones in the town), toured downtown, walked in one of the most awesome public parks I’ve ever seen, and quickly fell in love with the town. We also did all of this walking. No cars, just feets. It was a great time, and I got to spend some quality time with some family that I rarely see.
After spending some good time there, we left for the Eugene area. We arrived in Springfield, where we stayed the first night with Bear and Courtney. This was my first time meeting Courtney and her 5 year old son Morgan. They are most awesome. We had dinner at their apartment after a rather rousing game of croquet. Milca got to meet the majority of the Audacity Camp crew. Shelly, Gil, Bear, Whitney, Joe, and Greg made it for dinner. Courtney made lasagnas (one with no wheat for Shelly et. al.), and Shelly made sushi. We grubbed to our hearts content, played an awesome game of charades using the dictionary for inspiration, then hit the sack for some much needed sleep.
We woke and left for Eugene to have breakfast in Eugene with Bear, Whitney, Courtney, Morgan, and Seabrook at a little place called Glennwood. The food was pretty decent, and they were able to seat our somewhat large group rather quickly, considering there were 7 of us. The prices were also really decent, so I picked up the tab for the table, which I hadn’t really done for such a large group before. I guess I was expecting a much larger tab from such a place. If you get the chance to go, get the tomato and cheese soup. It’s all kinds of good.
The entourage, minus a Seabrook, escorted us to Gil and Shelly’s in Cottage Grove, who took us to get groceries and last minute camping stuffs. They then excorted us to our camping spot, a secluded site in the Umpqua National Forest. Much of Oregon has massive logging, which became apparent when you look at the line between the beginning of the National Forest and the clear cut that had just happened. It’s black and white different, and depressing as I could possibly imagine. Why can’t we just use hemp to make our paper? It won’t solve all of the problem, but it would make quite a difference, I’ll tell you what.
The site itself was filled with trees. Those of you in California might think you understand, but unless you’ve seen it, you really don’t. Let’s imagine the Sequoia National Forest, which is the woodsiest site I’ve ever seen in California. Now add one more tree for every two. Now add lots of shrubbery, fallen branches, and moss on everything. No, not just the branches, I mean everything. The floor covering, the branches on the floor and the ones still attached to trees, whose trunks too are covered in moss. EVERYWHERE. The end result was an atmosphere of pure, breathing, all encompassing energy that pulsed around you, even beneath you feet. This was aided by the creek that was rushing past not 50 yards from our camp.
Milca and I spent that first night there alone. Until that night she had only seen the slightest of glimpses of my Boy Scout skills. The only other fire I had tried to make lacked tinder and kindling, which I now had all around me. The fire was pretty good, considering we weren’t able to buy any firewood and relied on what was mostly wet wood. The potatoes we cooked took a bit longer than we would have liked, but they did cook. She was wowed and amazed, but most importantly, warm.
The next day we hiked, walked, and layed out in the flowers until the crew showed up. The first to show was Courtney, Bear, Morgan and Whitney. After they unloaded, Bear Whitney and I (the men) went for firewood. This was a quest in and of itself, as none of the spots that were remotely close to us had firewood. The round trip was close to an hour, but we didn’t come home emptyhanded. I had already set up the starting fire, so when we got back I started her up, and boy did she start. With real firewood to burn it was a much warmer and more impressive fire than the previous evening’s. Gil and Shel showed, with more firewood, and with Shel’s daughter Samantha (Sami) and a friend of her’s.
We ate, talked, sang, joked, and performed for each other. In short, we had a great time. The next day we packed up, cleaned up, and went back to Gil and Shel’s where we lagged as much as possible to avoid the inevitable goodbyes. They came, and, like us, went.
The trip home was okay. We made a short stop in Ashland again to eat, get gifts for those that had birthdays coming up, buy candy apples from the local sweet shop, and to get some more CD’s, as we had heard the ones we brought at least 3 times each.
The trip back as a whole was pretty decent, except for the short stint in Corning. We stopped at a Best Western and got a room, but not after hearing a long and unwanted story from the woman at the front desk. I knew she was a winner when she expressed a strong desire for something that McDonald’s was offering. Yuck. I repeat, Yuck (with a capital Y). Upon entering the room we found the beds had been slept in. I went to the desk where I was given keys to another room. Unfortunately the keys (those magnetic card type) weren’t properly keyed, so I had to go to the front desk for a third time to have them keyed. We got in to the room, at last, that was hotter than a whore in church. While we showered the AC cooled the room to a comfortable temperature so we could rest and eat the candy apples.
We arrived home to some very excited dogs and cats, who we had missed quite a lot.
Today was a day of post vacation errands, so that we could re-enter the work routine tomorrow with as little of a bumpy transition as possible. Granted, we are both still dreading it, but only because this much needed vacation went so well, and was so fun-filled.
The final verdict is that we are ver interested in moving to Oregon, and found that doing so would not be too difficult. My only concern is the job market up there, but I am confident that I won’t have too much of a problem with my resume.
I missed my brother Corey’s graduation ceremony from high school, which was on the 15th. I had to schedule my vacation time early in the year, so I started planning this vacation back in February, even though Milca and I had been planning this trip even earlier than that. With Corey telling me about the date of said ceremony only a month or so ago, I was not able to make it. He understood, as the trip had a special significance which will unfold with time. I was informed that the ceremony was very nice. I hadn’t graduated on time myself (which was a theory as to the motive behind my absence, which I believe I have squashed, as it’s not true), so I am very proud that he did what I could not. In the pissing contest that is being one of the 3 Loop boys, there are certain parralels between his path and mine, but the bar graphs seem to balance fairly evenly. The only roadblock, or speed bump, that lies ahead is Corey finishing his Eagle on time. That means all the crucial stuff done by the first of July. Here’s hoping. I’m fairly certain he’ll be okay, but I can’t help but think that he is going to stir up some heart failure in some of the adults around him.
And so ends the journey of a would be hobbit and his love… or that should read:
And so begins the journey of a would be hobbit and his love.
This post is going to be brief.
The last post was written in a bit of a huff. I was slightly irked having heard some news about my grandparents, and needed to vent those feelings. As this is one of my vents where I can put my feelings into words, I used it. What I failed to realize in said huff is that some things that I would like to fix can not be done with such large and swift actions. Baby steps, you could say.
Without saying too much on the topic, you could say that I have learned a bit more about my family in the past couple months than I could have expected. Last night being quite possibly the most eye opening experiences I’ve had of late. I know there’s a lot of healing that needs to happen.
the topic of the previous post, and this post, will be laid to rest a bit on this site, but for me it will be quite open.
My father and I don’t talk, or rather, I don’t talk to my father. I have my reasons, which are many, but here’s a few of the big ones:
He never keeps his word.
He lies.
Though he hasn’t necessarily had sex with another woman, he has made advances towards other women online, regardless of the fact that he is still married to, and lives with, my mother.
He doesn’t take responsibility for his actions.
Before you start arguing any of these points, know that I witnessed each of these actions personally. Though I have been told of other occurances from other people, I know leach of these accusations to be true from first hand experience.
I’d certainly love to discuss any of these points with anybody that is interested, such as, perhaps, his parents, my grandparents, who I recently found out read this site. Seeing as how he doesn’t post his own thoughts and feelings ever since I commented on the site he had up (don’t bother trying to look, he removed the sole post, which I would love to recap for anyone that is interested, after my comment). See, I found out that they had found the site no fewer than 2 days ago, and that they weren’t pleased with it. Granted, my vocabulary and subject matter isn’t typically G rated, nor is it how I would talk in their presence. The fact of the matter is that this is my soap box, and you don’t have to listen. I talk about my feelings, frustrations, and day to day life here. Uncensored. Everything I say here is me, and if that upsets you, I’m sorry, but I am not going to censor myself for anyone.
On a sidenote, we leave for our Oregon trip tomorrow.
And for the dumbass that thought I wouldn’t be going to my brother’s graduation because I myself didn’t graduate on time, I can’t imagine how you could possibly believe that you know anything about how I feel, or what my motives might be for anything, let alone this. If you have the balls to actually try and talk to me about anything of significance, step up to the plate.
Milca gave me an early birthday present. It’s a silver pendant in the shape of the man holding a small black rock from the Black Rock desert in his arms.
Such a sweetie.
| christheloop Look out for the |
| m HOLE |
From Go-Quiz.com
| Chris Loop may explode without warning |
| M EXPLOSIVE |
From Go-Quiz.com
My girl belle had this on her site. give her a looksee as a courtesy.
There are a great number of people that think you can read their mind, or rather that you were in their head when they were thinking a thought.
Example, a woman came up to me and said “****.” (**** is a word typically used in this office, and is omitted so I don’t lose my job). Since this word is used in about 20 different areas, I replied by pointing to myself and saying “Chris.” She didn’t seem to get it. She wasn’t offended, she just didn’t get it. I got the impression that she didn’t get much in life, so my humor was no exception.
She ellaborated. Not with a full sentence, oh no, that might actually get her point across. She said “Week one.” As there are several things this could mean, I gave the “keep going” motion with my right hand. Then she got the hint, that I wasn’t in her head, and that she might actually have to use full sentences. Whe she used one, I answered her question. The funny thing is that even after she understood, she still looked confused. Maybe it was a permanent part of her face.
High School indeed. This weekend was a whirlwind tour, taking us all the way back to 1998. Let’s start at the beginning.
Friday I saw Harry Potter again with my brother Charles. Nothing much to say about all that except that the Monrovia Street Fair can eat my ass with a spoon.
Saturday morning I had a work function to attend. We had a satellite store set up at a large function. I had worked said function when I had worked here during high school, and knew it to be horrible. Luckliy for me this year I had a reason to leave, the wedding of two very good friends from high school, Summer and Curtis.
Work was very worky, but I ran like hell at 1. From there I droped my brother at the folks’, went to Milca’s work, then home, showered, dressed, waited for the Pooks and Corey (brother), and the four of us drove out to Mission Hills for the wedding.
The wedding was very nice. There were about 40-60 people, it was outdoors, and the ceremony was simple, and was very family oriented, which I really liked.
The reception was very nice as well. I got to see a lot, and I do mean a lot, of faces from high school. When everyone was filling out their RSVP’s, there was some talk as to who would be there, who we wanted to see, and who we were not very excited about seeing. Summer and Curtis were, are, and always will be some of the sweetest and caring people you’ll ever know. It was no shock that they got married, in fact it was a bit over due. This being so, they have a lot of friends that don’t necessarily like eachother. Personally, there were some people that I don’t necessarily talk to anymore, but wouldn’t object to talking to. There were really only two people there that I wanted nothing to do with. One of them tried tried to say hi, to which I replied “Uh huh.” I think he got the point. The other, who is affiliated with the prior, didn’t try to say anything to me at all. It seemed as though she knew better, as she did talk to others that felt similarly to me.
Overall, it was a fun reception. It was drama free, I had a blast, Milca met a lot of people that I’d been talking about for the past year, and I got to see some people that I hadn’t seen in at least that amount of time.
Sunday, while running some errands, Milca and I ran into my old French teacher and her twin sister from high school. She was easily one of my two favorite teachers in high school, the other being my drama teacher who was also my english teacher. I had a big crush on her back in the day (yeah, yeah… say what you will, but she’s a sweetheart). But more than that, she was one of the reasons that I wanted to get into teaching. We got to talking, about what’s been going on, what we’d been doing, etc. She and her sister are both assistant principals. I told them about my desire to teach, and they gave me some great advice.
I’m now motivated to find a job that requires fewer hours so that I can go to school full time. I’m realizing that school is a breeze for me at this point, and the lack of time is my only hangup. I’m taking 10 units as is, and I’m still holding on. If I were working part time, there’s no reason I couldn’t take 15 units a semester. It’s cake.
It’s funny how many things change after high school. I’ve changed quite a bit, and know that I am still changing. In high school I never did work, always scraped by, and didn’t really care all that much. Of course I was in a bad place, had low self esteem, and didn’t see the point, but now I’ve grown up. I want the prize, and I’ll do anything I can to get it.
On a side note, you ever get one of those itches on your choad that you scratch for about a full minute, leaving you in a state of complete bliss? Those are the best.
Heh, choad. Taint. Your mom.