The end of 2011 - The beginning of 2012

This Blog Post comes to You in 3 Parts

Part One:
The 2011 Youtube Survey:
Started by the HPA vloggers in this video


The Questions:

1. How old did you turn this year?
   I turned 24. (I'm old)
2. Where did you travel to?
   I didn't travel far this year, just to Svendborg (for the last Harry Potter premiere) and Odense with my mother on holiday.
3. What is your best memory?
   Seeing Wicked on the stage in Denmark. It was truly an amazing experience and I can still feel the buzz.
   
   
4. What is your most embarrassing memory?
   I've done some pretty stupid things but I can't think of any memory that I find truly embarrassing. Not from this year at least.
5. What did you do that you'd never done before?
   I went to Copenhagen to watch Wicked.
   I showed my book draft to a friend and she liked it.
   I read a Shakespeare play (Romeo and Juliet)
   I've probably done more than just that, but I can't think of anything else right now.
6. What was your biggest achievement?
   Silly: Getting one hundred mounts on Friedaz in WoW.
   Serious: I finished my first book draft some beginning to ending.
7. What was the best book you read?
   Honorable mentions goes to Juliet by Anne Fortier, Shadow Army by Thomas Rathsack and Inheritance by Christoffer Paolini.
   The Winner of the best book I read in 2011: This One. If you haven't read it, you must. You simply must, not only because it's coming out as a movie but because in book form (before it's *hopefully not* ruined by a movie) it's AMAZING.
8. What is the most nerdy item you acquired?
   It's a tie between Harry Potter Film Wizardry and A Rubiks Cube. Although honerable mentions goes to my Gryffindor Tie, my Harry Potter 3D glassesa and my Time Turner. 
9. Who is your favourite Youtube that you subscribed to?
   Alex Carpenter, Elmify and Vihart
10. What did you learn this year?
    I learned how to be patient but always going forward and relaxed but outgoing. I say this every year but now I believe in it whole heartedly. Next year is going to rule. 

Part Two:

The Update

I'm going for a nerdy stay at home New Years again this year, I really can't be bothered to go for a party this year, to get dressed up and go somewhere when I have an old dog, a scared cat and chinese food, movies, Rubiks Cube and a great book to read at home. I've got a lot of booze as well if I get bored but I can't tap into that for another few hours. I'm picking up my chinese takeout in a few hours. 

Christmas was great this year, I don't know how to explain it but it was much more relaxed and cheerful. 

A Series of Drabbles died around day 12 or 13 and when I finally had the energy or the will to write again, it was such a big task to take upon myself fourteen days after finishing NaNoWriMo that I gave up. You live and learn right? Putting a word count on my head about more than two months a year (NaNoWrimo for November, Script Frenzy for April) is a little more than my head could take. 

Part Three: 

The Year in Review that I didn't make myself but that I found on the Internet! It's a must watch from Zeitgeist and the guys from Google. 

The Ending that doesn't Count in Parts

Thanks for this year universe, It's been great, so raise your glasses and look out of the window because tonight there'll be fireworks! Or in my case 25 pieces of firecrackers because i'm deadly afraid of blowing off my hands/eyes/legs/whatever if I even get near fireworks. 

Currently Reading: The Temple of Gods by Andy McDermott

Current Rubiks Cube Solve Time: 4mins and 23secs. 

A Series of Drabbles: Day 14

Fourteenth of December, 2011

Todays Word of The Day:

Pine vb

1. (Intransitive) To long, to yearn so much that it causes suffering. 

We only have a few more minutes until it is last call to go through the gate. I don’t want to leave right now, I can’t bear the thought of going through those doors and leaving Beth and possibly even my life behind to go fight a war that’s gotten so much bad press lately. I don’t care about the bad press, I just hope we still get the things we need to still win the war, to bring peace to Iraq, help them form their society, their new democratic society but as I stand with my arms around my wife and she’s bawling her eyes dry, I can’t bring myself to care about anything but her.

She respects my choice, even though she can’t be fully behind it. She knows the risks more than I do. I’m a little bit worried about her, she’s not one to ask for help and I really hope and pray that she’ll accept the help my aunt and uncle are going to throw at her in abundance.

“Alright,” I say, giving her a tight squeeze. “If you keep crying…” I couldn’t finish that sentence. She sniffles, understands and nods.

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” She looks up at me and puts on her mask for me, the smile she knows I need to see right now dancing on her lips. I take a deep breath, unable to find any words that I haven’t already said.

“Don’t pine after me too much,” I whisper. “Pine a little, but get on with your life when you’re ready.” I can see how she’s struggling not to let the tears overwhelm her beautiful face again.

“Write me as soon as you can.” 

Word Count: 284

Fun Factor: 4/5 

A Series of Drabbles: Day 13

Thirteenth of December, 2011


Todays Word of The Day: 


Quonk n

1. Unwanted noise picked up by a microphone in a broadcasting studio.
2. Audience chatter which disturbs the performer. 

I’ve been having a rough tournament this time around, It’s Stockholm and I never really liked Stockholm. It’s an in door event and I can’t see the sky. My head’s not even making sense today, all that comes out of my mouth is total jibberish.

Today I’m playing a newcomer who’s having a great tournament and I’m actually a little afraid that I’m not going to win, a feeling I haven’t exactly felt in a long while but this tournament is just a mess, I’m a mess today and I am even surprised I can stand on my feet.

Finally, when it’s my turn I attempt going into my pre-game bubble, that bubble everyone has just before they go out and do their job. I’m not in that bubble today, everything just bothers me and I feel weird. I don’t want to go play today, there’s something I’d much rather do but I can’t pinpoint it.

I don’t even appreciate the overly splendid scene the Swedes have created as we walk out; I just want to get it over with and go home.

The audience is wired tonight, I know that them being here means I get paid in the end but they’re so loud. They’re so incredibly loud, both when they’re screaming and when they’re just waiting between duels. Their chatter bothers me; I rarely pay attention to it but tonight it seems like they’re bees, a big cloud of bees just preparing to strike at me and I let it bother me.

Today’s is going to be a really long day. 

Word Count: 263

Fun Factor: 3/5

A Series of Drabbles: Day 12

Twelfth of December, 2011


Todays Word of The Day:




Devil's Advocate: 

1. (Idiomatic) One who debates from a view which he may not actually hold, usually to determine its validity or simply for the sake of argument.
2. (Roman catholic Church) A canon lawyer appointed by the Church to argue against the canonization of the proposed candidate.

I woke up to World War Dorm Hall, Mariah and Violet were duking it out. Both of them stood in the hall screaming at each other while I was still just in my pajamas standing in my door way. Daniel opened his own door and took a step out of his room, with a yawn he acknowledged my existance.

"I have practice at SIX, Violet, I can't keep waiting for you to waste an hour every morning crying to yourself in the shower as well as using all the hot water!" I was betting for Mariah to slay the princess with her wicked words and her insanely speedy logic. "I've been late for two days in a row, one more and I'm off the team and onto the reserves. Do I look like a reserve person?" Violet crossed her arms and lifted her eyebrows to the ceiling and farther.

"Now that you asked, yes, actually, you do. I have to go to work in the mornings, not all of us have a full ride here because we can run super fast."

"Just get out of the shower earlier so I can just dip in before practice."

"No." Violet stated simply. "I will not." Mariah sighed dramatically and took a stride back into her room slamming the door behind her.

Violet looked at me and Daniel and flashed a genuine smile.

"Honestly," she said. "I don't care about the extra shower time, I just didn't like her tone." Daniel barked a laugh and went straight to her for a hug.

"You have come so far in such a short time! Soon, you'll graduate from Bitch University! I am so proud of you!"

A Series of Drabbles: Day 11

Eleventh of December, 2011


Todays Word of the Day


Matronly 

1. In the capacity of  a matron; serving as a housekeeper or head nurse.
2. Exuding the authority, wisdom, power, and intelligence of an experienced woman
3. Having the appearance of a mature woman, often of larger physical stature and somewhat unkempt or dowdy. 

I’ve only had one traditional mother and that’s not my actual mother. I don’t know how exactly we got onto this subject while lying roadside looking at a compound straight ahead while attempting to assist a recon group doing their job. We had just been pulled out by them when they got a new mission.

Mike was lying next to me, observing quietly for a little while and then suddenly said “These kids look like they’re having the time of their fucking life,” I gaze to my side at him.

“You didn’t have fun like that when you were a kid?”

“Hell yeah, I did, brother. I grew up in the country side. I was never in the house. How about you?”

“City kid,” I say lowly. “I moved to the suburb though, when my mom gave up raising me.”

“You a trouble-kid?”

“No, she’s the one who was trouble. Had trouble keeping her nose clean. My aunt, though,” I said with a little softer voice. “She always treated me like a proper son, always in the kitchen… Shit, I miss proper cooking.” He chuckled.

“Heads up,” Paul said, next to us, kicking me in the shin. I blinked a few times, letting my eyes get used to seeing through the binoculars again. “Male, at my two, window,” He continued.

“I’ve got visual.” I sent it off through the radio letting the group leader decide what to do. We were told to stay put, keep our eyes of the compound, one male is hardly an army.

“What about you, Paul?”

“Suburb, mum, dad, brother, good upbringing, nothing really to write home about.” I took a few deep breaths, steadying myself against my weapon. We watch the village for a long while longer but nothing happens other than kids playing and the women milling about, getting on with their daily life.

We’re air lifted back to base while the recon group sets out again. I’m dead tired and I’m just about ready to just sleep wherever I am but my training prevents me from doing exactly that, I’m not going to sleep until we’re back at base. My mind drifts back and forth a little bit but mostly centers around the wonderful person that is my aunt. She’s everything those corny tv mothers everyone from my generation grew up advertised. Kris and I, we caught the lucky stick for once in our life. She’s a stay at home wife, no kids of her own, something I haven’t given much thought. She took care of us, made three meals a day plus snacks. She kept our clothes clean, the house was spotless and she was always happy, always just there. She’s the mother we were supposed to have. 

Word Count: 456

Fun Factor: 5/5

Fun Fact: I've been into reading/ watching anything I can find about the military this includes various memoirs and the very latest thing, a mini TV series called Generation Kill. It's great. 

A Series of Drabbles: Day 10

Tenth of December, 2011


Todays Word of The Day:


Gluck vb

(ambitranstive) To flow or cause to flow in a noisy series of spurts, as when liquid is emptied through the narrow neck of a bottle. 

“Written Assignment for the week: Write a love letter or a poem, or whatever you want to an inanimate object. The more dull, the better. Be creative.”

We look at each other, the horror painted on our pictures. Sure, he’s been giving us strange assignments for a while now but this beats them all. I, for one, am not one to write love letters. I’ve written plenty of letters to Adam through these few months but they’re not love letters, far from it actually, it’s like a diary but one I know someone will read.

I hate the assignment from the first moment I sit down at my desk to work on it. 

Everything about it feels wrong and my back’s killing me from sitting in this chair. It’s not exactly made for studying, it’s put in these dorm rooms because they’re cheap and they have a tendency to last longer. I lean over my desk, pounding the wall into Daniels room, he pounds back twice. Our sign for all clear, come in. I want to sit in his bean bag chair and just rest my back a little. I take my laptop with me where I’ve written exactly three words, my own name.

Daniel’s sitting in his comfortable chair with a book, something I rarely ever see him do, usually he’s busy making music.

“Bean bag chair time?” I nod and sink down into the comfortable bean bag, really digging myself down into it.

“My back’s killing me. What are you working on?” He shrugs.

“Nothing, just reading, just heard, I’m staying here for Christmas. My parents are shipping themselves off to somewhere nice and I’m not invited.” I look at him.

“I’m staying too; my dad’s working over Christmas, no need to for me to go home.” I watch his face brighten a little.

“Really?” I nod. He closes his book after carefully folding a donkey ear to mark his place in the book.

“You know what would cheer you up, writing a love letter to an inanimate object with me.” He chuckles.

“Nothing says fun like a love letter.”

“Beth, you’re up.” I get up from my chair to place an empty beer bottle in the middle of the circle we’re sitting in.

“Dear Carl, I am writing this to you to declare my undying love for you. For one so small, so green, you have brought a refreshing break once in a while into my life. Our relationship, though sporadic and brief is defined by your distinct sound when I pour you from the bottle and down into my glass. This is when I feel most at home with you.” 

The others chuckle but let me carry on for a about a good page, until I come to our brilliant ending. 

“But as much as I love you, Carl, there is something I have to say, though it pains me much. I have found someone else, someone cheaper, tastier, please forgive me, Carl. Love Beth.” 

Word Count: 499

Fun Factor: 4/5 (once I cracked it)

A Series of Drabbles: Day 9

Ninth of December, 2011


Todays Word of The Day:


Twist in the Wind vb

1. (idiomatic) to be unassisted and with comfort in a situation likely to result in distress or failure. 
2. (idiomatic) To wait for an uncomfortably long period of time. 

I’ve got to catch up with my sniping, since being promoted I’ve spent far too much time on the damn radio than doing what I’m supposed to be doing. There’s so few times where I feel like I’m doing something worthwhile, this is not one of them. I want to be out in the field but my team is a part of the QRF today so we’re spending it alert, waiting, preparing. There’s a group out from the Danish Jaegers, they’ve been out there for at least five days, soon we’ll have to bring them home and another target is to be found, I only hope this time is our time.

Mike struts into the tent with his weapon over his shoulders.

“Just heard, they’re being pulled out, no need for QRF. Steady and easy.” I roll my eyes, I want to get out there again, I don’t do well with sitting on my ass waiting when I could be out there with my boys doing what we do best.

It’s been quiet for awhile, this length of quiet makes me uneasy, we’re at war and quiet is a bad sign.

“Tucker,” Paul starts, “Any news from home?” I cross my ankles and put my hands behind my neck.

“No news.” No news, no damn news. They’re just going to leave us here, twisting in the wind like bitches. 

Word Count: 229

Fun Factor: 4/5

A Series of Drabbles: Day 8

Eights of December, 2011


Todays Word of The Day:


Rescind vb
To make void; repeal or annul

Someone screams my full name at the middle of a stride and the surprise of hearing my full name where I didn’t expect to hear it caused me to stumble over my feet. This is where I wished I was a gymnast or had any other athletic talent than tennis because I ended up hitting the gravel. Angrily, dusting off the gravel from my knees I turned around to attempt to spot the idiot and possibly murder whoever I had to.

Aiden owned that voice and he looked serious, the wrong kind of serious. His brow was smushed together into a deep frown and his lips bore no shadow of a smile. The knot in my stomach, left there by my mother’s hand gathered itself again. I jogged over to him, jumping over the waist high fence surrounding the court I was training at in a single graceful bounce.

“Congratulations,” Aiden murmured dryly, a little bit of anger seeping through. If I didn’t knew better, he’d just been in an argument he couldn’t quite shake off. “Your contract with Tennis Extreme was annulled. It only took two court appointed lawyers, two months of paperwork and a few threats but you’re free.” I nodded, looking down at the ground. Aiden’s mood infected my own, my brain was telling me to cheer, to jump up and down and just celebrate her freedom from the contract with the coach who nearly destroyed her body. Aiden nods, watching me. “Go celebrate somehow,” He turns around taking a few steps and then turning around again. “Your knee is bleeding, I suppose you can blame me.” 

Word Count: 270

Fun Factor: 3/5

A Series of Drabbles: Day 7

Seventh of December, 2011


Todays Word of The Day:


To tip one's hand vb


1. In card playing, to accidentially reveal one's cards or hand. 
2. (idiomatic) To inadvertently reveal any secret, particularly a secret that puts on at an advantage or disadvantage. 

“You told?” I barked. “You told everyone?” I sat in my damn wheelchair in the damn hospital with a damn pain in my damn hip screaming my head off at the only person who I had trusted. I looked at Jess and I noticed her clenched jaw, her defensive stance, how she crossed her arms protecting herself. “How DARE you tell everyone when I told you not to?”

“I thought they deserved to know, Aiden. How you’re ending your career just because you won’t put in the extra work!” I clenched my own jaw and kept silent. I’d dislocated my hip again and I was going in for elective hip replacement surgery, something that’s going to either restart my career or kill it. I won’t know until I’m standing in the situation. “If you’d just try to do the extra work outs… You’ve got a lot of years left in you, getting this surgery is going to destroy any chance you have of returning to the tennis circuit again.

“Have you ever dislocated your hip?” She looks at me, surprised how I went from screaming to a calm question.

“No, I haven’t.” I bit my lip, practicing my next sentence in my head as she studies my face. No matter how much I rephrase it, how much I don’t want to say this sentence, I can’t not say it, I have to speak my mind now or I’ll never get a chance again.

“You don’t understand me. You never have and you never will.”

“What are you saying?”

“Get out, Jess, even if you didn’t mean to blurt my secret to anyone, you still did it and that doesn’t change anything at all. Just get out and don’t come back.”

The moment she was out of the door, I grabbed my phone to call my agent, explaining what she had done and he explained to me what the repercussions were going to be. I wasn’t going to be able to keep this silent anymore, it was going to have to either be shushed down or I’d have to face it head on.

I went with option two and to be honest, I was never the one for silence.

Word Count: 368

Fun Factor: 3/5

A Series of Drabbles: Day 6

Sixth of December, 2011

Todays Word of The Day:

Amiable adj.

1. Friendly; kind; sweet; gracious; as, an amiable temper or mood; amiable ideas. 
2. Possessing sweetness of disposition; having sweetness of temper; kindhearted; which causes one to be liked.

'

It’s funny how strange you feel around someone who is genuinely sweet. You feel odd, just waiting for the moment for them to say something rude about another person but I think I've met that person whom I know never will say anything rude if she can help it.

Her name is Beth and she's a writer and I spoke to her today. I bet she's been reading the articles about me, how I am under investigation for a illigal drug use I didn't commit knowingly and yet still, she doesn't seem to care.

She just sits in front of me, smiling as I tell her tales of the haunted halls behind the scenes of a major tennis event. She wants to know about me, understand who I am, where I'm coming from without judging.

Her soul seem pure, as she talks about her husband I sense she's waiting, just waiting on the edge for a burst of wind to throw her off guard and to push her off the edge only to guide her down again.

Everyone likes her, she's a happy person and seems to want to be everyones friend. She wants to know everyone's hopes and dreams and she'll sprinkle fairy dust and you'll walk away from her feeling absolutely rejuvenated.

I'd love to have someone like that around me all the time. Someone who could bring me down from warp speed to snail feed once in a while, someone who could teach me to stop and smell the roses for once in my life.

Even the way she greeted me with a smile, her right hand stretched forward and the body language that spoke of a desire to just hug you. I want to be that kind of a warm person, a person that has room in her life for everyone and anything.

I'd like to be her neighbour, I can just imagine her coming over with baked goods and a bag of coffee and we'd sit out in the lawn and drink coffee and eat cake and talk about anything and everything and just as I'm indulging myself in my fantasy, my coach sits down beside me heavily, making me jump. Moseby chuckles.

"Where were you? Away in Narnia?" I catch Beths eyes.

"Just about," I murmur returning to the present moment to enjoy this wonderful person while she's there and not away spreading joy with only her personality. Moseby pushes forward his hand towards Beth.

“Moseby,” he says, presenting himself, “the coach.”

“Beth Tucker, official ATP press. Happy to meet you,” and she was actually happy to meet him. 

Word Count: 435

Fun Factor: 5/5

Fun Fact: I wrote that in a program called OMM writer. It's super trippy and really fun, if you're stuck for ideas or just plain stuck, try it out. This Guy turned on me to this. He's also doing this Drabbles in December.

A Series of Drabbles: Day 5

Fifth of December, 2011


Todays Word of The Day:


Hexapod n


Any organism or being with six legs.

When I was a kid I was into robots, robots and cartoons. I used to build robots out of legos and just sat in my room and played with them, gave them robot voices and other stuff.

It was only when I was a kid that I openly talking about my fascination with robots, outwardly I was just like any other guy my grade. I was outgoing, I played sports, I had a healthy social life but once I was home alone, or even home I relished the time I could spend with my robots, reading, learning and even eventually building one myself.

Each year there was a conference for the robot industry in midtown and I always wanted to go so badly but I’ve never been able to. When you’re under 16, you can’t go without an adult no matter how crazy it seems and once I was finally old enough to go myself I couldn’t because I didn’t want to lose my reputation as a cool kid.

So once I considered myself an adult and I’d forgotten all about the shame I used to carry around me, I went, and I had the most fun I’d had in ages.

Here were people just as nerdy and strange as me and they were into robots. I walked amongst these awesome people and I couldn’t help but smile. I found myself at a booth with a little kid sitting on the table with a robot in front of him smiling as he fiddled the controls he held in his hand. He looked up at me and nodded.

“What’s that?” I asked, looking at the strange robot he’s showing off. It was a robot with six legs with the plate with the wiring in the middle.

“A hexapod,” he answered. “I finished it yesterday in time for this… Look,” he fiddled with the controls and made it do several kinds of tricks including tilting back in its hind legs.

I don’t think I’ve ever regretting wasting my childhood on caring about being cool when I could have built hexapod that can tilt back on their hind legs.

As I was leaving the convention center I had a phonecall and seeing it was Ben, I took a deep breath and answered it.

“Tucker!” He yelled. “Where the hell are you? You were supposed to be here half an hour ago?” I looked at my watch, sighing again.

“Shit, I’ve been at the robot convention down town, I’ll be right there.” The silence from Ben amused me.

“So… Did you just say robots?”

“I did,” I promted, closing the argument. “Party tonight at the plot, right? Give me half an hour, be ready to go when I honk.” I closed the phone and strode towards my car smiling at the day I’ve had. 

Word Count: 470

Fun factor: 4/5

A Hexapod

A Series of Drabbles: Day 4

Fourth of December, 2011

Todays Word of The Day:


Church key n

A can opener having a triangular tip that pierces the can. 

I’d been having trouble all day with this one assignment. I was supposed to have written a fluff piece about a bookdrive in my neighbourhood but everything I wrote sounded stupid or corny. I’d picked up drinking my way through annoying assignments.

Adam was at the base for the night and I wasn’t expecting him anytime soon nor did I think he was going to be home before I had a chance to replace his favourite beers. Lately he’s been obsessed with Scandinavian type beers, the one that comes In a glass bottle and not a can as well as a type in a can.

A little while after the third can I was starting to get my head around an idea, an angle to make a simple book drive a little more interesting.

I finished the cans fairly quickly and moved onto the beer in the glass bottles. I found a can opened in the drawer and opened another beer. I was running out of place to put anything on my small desk and I didn’t want to lose the opener so I put it through my ponytail and tightened it.

I’d barely drunk three glass beers but had finished my article when I heard the van drive up the drive and come to a halt. I panicked and quickly tried to grab as many of the cans as possible to get rid of the evidence but alas, my legs were not cooperating and I tripped over myself and fell, the cans clanging as they hit each other and the floor.

I looked up to find Adam standing above me, smiling.

“Bad night?” He broke into a laugh and helped me up to my feet and hung on to me because somehow my legs still wouldn’t cooperate with me. “Did you atleast save me one?”

“In the fridge,” he put me on one of the barstools, walking around the counter to open the fridge and picked out a beer. His hands automatically went through the drawer for the can opener but came out unlucky.

“Where’s the church key?” He asked, turning around to me.

“Do I look religious to you?” I demanded.

“The can opener, boozer.” I shrugged my shoulders a little too theatrically, nearly tipping over. He watched me steady myself. “Did you finish your article?”

“Hell yes, sir! I nailed it!” He laughed, putting down the bottle he went to pick me up.

“You need to sleep,” He said as he carried me through the house and into the bedroom and lastly put me down on the bed. “I’ll go clean up your mess before turning in too.” I watched him leave and then fell backwards. Something hit the back of my head, I muttered a curse trying to figure out what it was. I pulled something out of my hair and realized with an audible oh!

“Adam!” I yelled. “I’ve found the key to the church!”

Word Count: 490

Fun Factor: 5/5

A Series of Drabbles: Day 3

Third of December, 2011

Todays Word of The Day:

Lusophone adj.

Portuguese-speaking.

Today is press day. I hate press, I only do it because I have to, I’ve got no choice. I can whine to Aiden but I won’t get anything out of it, not even an ounce of sympathy from the man I call my boyfriend when no one else is around.

I was in Portugal that week doing a few interviews in the aftermath of winning the French Open again.  To be honest, I would rather be on the court working out than sitting in a studio attempting to hide my confusion when I find out the hosts are introducing me in their own language, Portuguese.

I’d never bothered to lean any new languages like Spanish or German. I speak Danish and English and English is the language I use in my day to day life. My coach speaks English, my publicist speaks English, my friends are Americans. So every one speaks English.

I’m curious as to what they’re saying about me as they introduce me, probably something like “Look at that pompous tennis player by my side, she doesn’t know I’m secretly calling her a donkey. The joke’s on her.” My publicist, Marlene Johnson, looks happy though so I’m pretty sure they’re not saying mean things at all.

As soon as they switched to English for the interview I felt much more as ease and I put on my publicity mask and I smiled, I was humble and I tried to be funny and I tried very hard not to sound like an ungrateful child and it seems I succeeded.

As soon as I was left alone in my hotel room that evening, the peace and quiet got to me, so quiet and peaceful. I didn’t want to be alone and peaceful, so I took it upon myself to go out, find a restaurant and sit down and just look at people, have a feel for the city, its life. So that’s what I did, I threw myself into a country that spoke a language I didn’t understand. 

Word Count: 339

Fun Factor: 3/5


(This was Alex.)

A Series of Drabbles: Day 2

Second of December, 2011


Todays Word of The Day (according to http://en.wiktionary.org/)

echt adj.
Proper, real, genuine, true to type.

Beth had dragged me into a shop for paintings and wall decoration or whatever it was she called it. I dug my head down, pulled my cap as close to my eyes as possible and just ducked in after her. If the guys saw me in here, if ANYONE I knew in my professional life with the base I’d never hear the end of it. They would torment me to the end of my life and beyond that as well.

The shop was bright, white walls, white floor, white lamps, the only color in the shop were the painting and photographs. Even the cash register and the furniture it was resting on was white. With the Hawaiian sun reigning in the sky, it blinded even the best of us. If I wasn’t a well mannered person, I would have kept my sunglasses on but I always think people look like tools when they’re wearing their sunglasses indoors.

Beth perused the shop for a while, looking at each painting in her own time. Once she got in this mood there was nothing I could say or do to influence her. I couldn’t even remove myself from the situation because she’d know. Somehow, she knows if I’m skiving off. I haven’t seen eyes at the back of her head yet or even seen her head spin around on her shoulders but she senses when I’m trying to skive off, maybe she was bitten by a radioactive spiders all those years ago when I took her camping for our first proper date and first weekend together.

I found a sofa near the end of the back of the shop that didn’t look like it was a piece of art. On the table in front of it there were magazines, though they were all directed at women. I had the choice between finding my color or add up a score to see if I had the perfect relationship. Neither of those interested me but it gave me an idea for a magazine directed at men. In my magazine there would be articles that were interesting like, is the color of your gear clashing with the scenery: it could kill you or Is your gun playing hard to get: this is how to properly clean that beauty up.

“Adam, are you still alive?” Beth voice was like an arrow through a thought bubble, sighing I got to my feet and went back to my station beside her, pretending to care about wall decorations. “What do you think?” She said, opening her hand towards a painting on the wall. It looked like a temple in the Japanese building style with a bridge in the foreground.

“What am I supposed to think?” I reasoned.

”Do you like it?”

”Yes,” I lied. It wasn’t ugly. At least it wasn’t a clown.

“I wonder if it’s an authentic, I don’t like that scratch near the edge.” She had already moved on even before I finished my thought to reply. 

Word Count: 500

Fun Factor: 5/5 (Always fun to write Adam)

By the way: This is the painting Beth was showing Adam. There isn't a scratch on it, by the way. It's quite beautiful. 

A Series of Drabbles: Day 1

First of December, 2011

Todays Word of The Day (according to http://en.wiktionary.org/)

Semi-smile n.
A faint smile; a surpressed smile or forced smile. 

Aiden was tearing me a new one. I ran laps after laps after laps followed each lap by a few drills, power drills, to get my pulse steadied but still working at top speed.

This is what he did to me, he made me work, day in, day out and that’s why I respected him. He didn’t want me to be just good, he wanted me to be excellent so he pushed me.

There’s something very calm and meditating about doing well when you’re into something. So even if I’m dead tired I still keep going, I keep going because I like being in motion. I like feeling the world around me, the bubble of air that surrounds our earth and the ground under my feet as I swift my body forwards as each of the moments I live pass me by.

“Why are you running?” He asks as I pour down a bottle of water. My throat is dry and so are my lips, parched is probably a better word for it. He’s wearing his pokerface, that face I’ve been trying to read for years but just can’t. I don’t know whether he’s mad at me, proud of me or just plainly happy. He never tells me in the middle of a workout if I’m doing well or not. I like to know continuously, that’s why I like the scoreboard mentality. You can physically see how well or badly you’re doing but with Aiden, he doesn’t tell me until I’m done and I’m so tired I can’t even appreciate it properly.

“You told me I had to.” He nods, biting his lips but otherwise keeping his face impassive.

“I’d like you to jump off a bridge.” I narrow my eyes. I know what he’s playing at, another lesson, yet another time of him trying to convince me that I am not running laps because he tells me to, that I am running laps because I want to. A semi-smile sneaks over his face as he senses my slight agitation. “Alright, in all seriousness, you’re done for the day. Go have a long soak in the tub and then hit the sack.” 

Wordcount: 362

Fun factor: 4 out of 5

A Series of Drabbles: Introduction

First the introduction and the rules:

A drabble is a short story, otherwise known as flash fiction.

• Entries between 100 - 500 words, none above, none under. 
• The Word of The Day must be incorporated either ver batim or metaphorically. 
• Post everyday for the duration of December.
• No cheating with word count or word selection. 

As for characters I'm going to take the liberty of using my own characters that I've designed in my two NaNoWriMo novels. 

From Seeking a Greater Perhaps: 

Alex Nygaard - Professional Tennis player. 

Aiden Hall - Her coach as well as eventually her boyfriend. 

From The Blue Door: 

Beth Tucker (formerly Joyce) - Journalist, later on a novelist, married to:

Adam Tucker - Professional soldier, works for the army, a professional sniper. Has served in Iraq.

I plan to switch between characters randomly, whichever character that fits the best to the WOTD.