Armistice

Dear Wal,

That’s right ladies and gentlemen. The war is finally over. A very old story of mine has finally come into itself and really, honestly become real. I’ve been trying to write this story since I was ten, it was a branching off of my black dog story (now that is a weird and wacky tale of many years of writing angst). It was one of those stories where I yanked a character out of his rightful place and put him in an alien world where he didn’t belong. Anyway, this world of mine was left a shell without its main purpose and drive in the character that was never supposed to be there. It drifted along for ages, I even developed a whole gang of characters to fill the gap left behind by this one character. It still wouldn’t pull itself together. It had a beginning but no end, just a bleak and dark future where the world ended and there was no one there to save it and no way to stop it.

Seriously. It was pretty depressing.

The race of people who the main characters belonged to died from a plague in the story and the world became unbalanced because so much life energy vanished at once. And like I said before, no Chosen One to save them. Somehow the story ended up starting itself up from that point, with my two main character that I created to fill the gap meeting each other for the first time instead of as seasoned veterans of a war long lost. Not only to I get to finish off a story that really, honestly deserves it, I also get to watch these characters develop. I’m really glad this is finally working out. I’ve waited so long and had to exercise so much patience for this story to work itself out. It gives me hope for all my other dead or half-finished story.

/endrant

P.S. Almost finished with the physical challenges in Arkham City! Woot!

My First Driving Experience

Dear Wal,

This isn't technically my first driving experience, because I had to drive for driver's ed this week as well, but it was considerably more eventful considering I drove with my dear father in the passenger seat. Driving with the driver's ed teacher was extremely boring and very quiet, which I guess was good. My dad, however, has a tendency to chatter when he's nervous, and considering this was his first day out with his youngest driving a very large, dangerous machine I don't blame him.
Anyway, I drove back from the DMV once I got my permit (Down back roads, of course. No big highways for me, no thanks. I don't like them at all.) which was mostly uneventful. Except I took this one corner to fast (it was at the bottom of a hill, I misjudged, can you blame me?) and scared my poor father to death. He spent a good amount of the ride back clutching to the door. He kept going off on little rambles about how people were idiots when they were driving and they would pull in front of you and cross into other lanes. And then of course there were all the ones about how bad it would be if I ran off the road or went to fast or something. He did a lot of complaining about how high the speed limit was on a couple curvy roads we drove on.
That evening I had to go to cross country practice (In 90 degree weather. Some might call me brave. Others would call me stupid.) so I drove down to practice, which involved going down this giant hill at the end of the road we live on. I don't know what percent grade it is, but it's steep. Dad coached me in the art of not burning up the brakes, which I was very grateful for. I didn't like that hill at all. Not only was it steep it was also curvy. Anyway, we made it through without crashing into anything or losing control. Then after that I had to navigate. Heaven forbid. I missed the last turn because I was trying to make a corner and Dad was telling me to slow down. I drove for another four miles until we decided to pull over and get directions off of Dad's phone. So then we doubled back and I managed to turn on the right road. Once we got onto the gravel part (It's a tow-lane paved road for a while and then turns to gravel. We run on the gravel part.) he started talking about how bad it would be if I ran off the road. Yeah, really encouraging, thanks. But thankfully I have very good selective hearing, so I could block out the useless rambling and pick up the important parts.
We finally got there and I ran. Dad drove back. I was grateful. I was really tired and really didn't want to drive.
Then today Mom needed to go to the post office, and Dad had the car because he went grocery shopping, and so all we had was the giant, lumbering truck. Which meant that I got to drive it into to town to the post office. I had to get the truck out of the driveway in the first place, which meant doing a three point turn around a tree. Then I got out on the main road and headed toward town. Once I was on main street I had to park, which in the truck was an..experience. I managed it the first time without being halfway out of the parking place though. We went in and Mom sent off a shawl (She makes patterns for KnitPicks, for those of you savvy in the wild world of knitting.) and then I cam back out and started up the truck.
But the problem was that some idiot hadn't pulled into his parking place all the way, which meant that I couldn't get out. Any other vehicle would have been able to make it, but not the truck. This person took an age and a half to come out of the bank, and then Mom got out and chewed them out about parking halfway out in the way through the parking lot. By this point I was freaking out. Just a little. And Mom was freaking out. Just a little. And then we were both freaking out.
But then we went to the library and had ice cream and everything was happy again. Mom found out that apparently Dad didn't want me to drive the truck, even though I did fine. The only hiccup being the stupid person who doesn't know how to park.

/endrant

P.S. I just got back from riding Buzzy at night. It. Was. Cool.

Buzzy and Plastic

Dear Wal,

My horse is obsessed with plastic. Like this:

All I have to do to keep him entertained is give him a plastic bag. When he gets out, I come to get him and find the entire contents of that trashcan spread out everywhere, with him standing innocently in the midst of it. It's a lovely mess to clean up.

/endrant

Wild Mini

Dear Wal,

Last Thursday while we were driving to Cross Country practice we spotted a truck stopped in the middle of the road. Now, there had been an SUV parked in the road earlier because this woman felt the need to talk to this guy standing next to the road. I figured it was just another person stopped to talk to someone, because this is quite common where I live. No one is ever in much of a hurry. There's a man in my town that drives a big blue tractor everywhere. Getting off topic. So Mom slowed down to pass them and then all of a sudden saw this little white miniature pony. It was just running lose-no halter or near-by broken fence or anything.

My rendition of said mini

This father and his son were trying to herd it off the road. They managed to chase it to the other side and then it galloped back to it's home because it's goat buddy called for it. It was just in the front yard of someone's house-no tether or pen or anything-with these two goats. It didn't look unhealthy or anything. Mom and I joked about taking it home, which would never happen. I can imagine Buzzy's reaction:
WHAT IS THIS THING >>
...
I DON'T WANT TO SQUISH IT D8
...
NEW FRIEND 8D
I just went to talk to my mother because she was reading DW: Borrowed Time and I thought it was brilliant so I wanted to see if she thought so too, and aparently she's beginning to think the whole thing was a dream. Because it was such a perfect little white pony, like something out of a fairy tale, and such a bizarre event to have occurred at all. Ah. My mother.

/endrant

P.S. I'm bored.

June Reading List

Read:

Doctor Who: The Eyeless
Doctor Who: The Way Through the Woods
Doctor Who: Borrowed Time
Hell to Pay (Nightside)
Sharper Than A Serpent's Tooth (Nightside)
Doctor Who: Made of Steel
Batman Beyond: Industrial Revolution
JLA: Divided We Fall

In Progress:


The Weapon
1984

The Saga of 4-H Horse Camp

Dear Wal,

Wow. It's Friday. A week and a half later, and I've so been putting this off. Why? I don't know. My blogging engines  ground to a halt for some odd reason last week, probably simply from how horribly out of habit I am, but oh well. But now I'm sitting here watching Doctor Who and writing about my epic adventures at horse camp.
At the local Agricultural Center annually I go to a three-day 4-H horse camp. It's the most brilliant thing since clinics were invented. You spend three days thinking and breathing and living nothing else but horses. It's like the horse equivalent of a comiccon, although I wouldn't know for sure because I've never actually been to a comiccon. This is something that needs to be fixed, and don't worry I've already told Dad that next vacation we are going to San Diego. Anyway, back on subject. Camp.
It's the most wonderful thing ever but it's also the most stressful thing ever because I always seem to have the crazy insane horse that flips out all over the place and loses his mind when I ask him to do a simple thing like walking. This is Buzzy I'm talking about of course, but Montana was also a bit of a problem the years that I rode him. He likes to go fast. Really fast. At all times. And I don't like to go fast, on horses anyway, because of the threat of not being able to stop. Buzzy is just terrified of everything, which makes concentrating on walking impossible for him. What usually happens is he starts freaking out, and then I start freaking out, and then we're both freaking out. You can guess where that ends up. Both of us splattered across the fence.
But this time was an absolute dream. My dream about how camp should be. No horse freaking out, and tons of fun.

Sunday

Me making a trip to unload stuff

So maybe I lied a bit about the horse freaking out. He did have his moments, but thankfully most of them were spent on the ground in a closed space without me on him. Sunday is the day when we load everything up and then go to the Ag center, and then promptly unload it all again. I spent two-three-four hours in this process, and I got mostly everything from home to  the Ag center. I forgot the scoops, the tables and the beat pulp. All the adults went off to retrieve these things and while they were away I took Buzzy out and worked him in the round pen.
I think the walk between his stall and the round pen was the most terrifying experience of his entire life. This is a pretty good description of what was going through his head:
DRAIN D8 TRAILER D8 CHAIR D8 PEOPLE D8 PLASTIC O: PLASTIC D8 GALLON DRUM D8 TRASH CAN D8

Small horses

I finally got him into the ring and sent him in a circle. At least that was the idea anyway. It didn't really end up being a circle. It was a mad rush in every direction it's possible for a four-legged creature to go. He continued to do that for the next twenty minutes or so until he finally chased all the boogey men out of his head and got over the fact that he had been transported to another world. A strange planet with lots of scary things and plastic.
I took him back to his stall and everything was happy hunky dory from then on. I sat and read my book. It was a very good book.
Then these adorable minis showed up. They were like mini Buzzies.

Monday


Well, first off let me tell you about sleeping in a barn. Sleeping in a barn is one of the hardest things you can try to do. First of all, it's cold. Really, really, really cold. And really noisy. There are horses pacing, whinnying to each other, tossing buckets around (Buzzy is notorious for that) and generally being a pain. Most horse noises don't bother me, except for stomping. I've learned to wake up as soon as any horse within earshot starts stomping because stomping is usually a sign from Montana that he's sick. He only ever stomps when he's not after food when he's sick, and since he's thirty years old it's kind of important to get to him as fast as possible when he's sick.
Anyway, I would have been fine because there wasn't any stomping, if it wasn't for the cold. I think I nearly froze to death, and I probably only got two or three hours of sleep. Anyway, I woke up with the sun and got up about an hour later to feed and water and scoop poo. We were all really tired and really cold. It was misting and overcast. Things were looking bleak. We might not get to ride if it started raining harder or thunder and lightning showed their faces. After me and Katie (My BFF from Florida. We've known each other since we were born pretty much, because our mothers went to college together.) headed down to the safety meeting in the main arena.
Colin, the main organizer for the camp (He's totally awesome. He has long hair that he braids every morning and he lets us soak him with water balloons. Don't worry, I'll get to that story eventually.) had to shout over the tractor in the background. He explained that the riding schedule was going to be complicated because of the weather. Here's how it went. We had the rideoff in the morning for Western, English, Games and Non-trotting. We only had three arenas available to us, which meant that by the end of it pretty much every class was splitting an arena with another class. The English and Western had three different classes; Advanced, Intermediate and Beginner, and the Non-Trotting had two different classes; Fast and slow. I don't have a clue how the Games were set up. I wasn't paying attention.
After the safety meeting we went back, got tacked up and went to our respective rings. Buzzy was fantastic, completely calm, light in my hands. No problems at all. We spent most of the morning walking just to be sure.

I'm Batman

Then I got off and went back to the barn, pleased and extremely tired. Katie's mom had a sandwich waiting for me. She makes the best sandwiches. After that I mostly just sat and read and took care of Buzzy and ate lots of food. Like, a lot of food. The evening session went just as well. We did more gaiting then we did in the morning and managed not to fall apart all over the place. One of the things I did when I was riding in the morning was make a careful list of 'Horses to Stay Away From'. It's not that these particular horses were bad horses or had bad riders, they just had particular attitudes toward or affects on Buzzy that I wanted to avoid. Like the fast horses, they send Buzzy off in a tizzy because he gets pressured into going fast by them, or the stinker horses that like to play little dominance games when their riders weren't looking. I see a lot more than a lot of people when I look at how a horse behaves. Every movement is a sign to me, and tells me what the horse is thinking. That skill was imperative in keeping out of trouble during this clinic.

RELAX Buzzy D:

HI 8D

Anyway, I told the instructors that I wanted to be placed in the slow group. This has it's benefits because that means that most of the riders would be going at a walk and only trot occasionally, but also has a downside. There were mostly younger, inexperienced riders in this group, so I had to be super extra careful. Even with all that to keep track of, we still did extremely well. I got back to the barn completely zonked and crashed.

Tuesday
Safety meeting, as usual, and this time we could actually hear Collin since there wasn't equipment going in the background. After the meeting I went and saddled up. This time we were in the outer uncovered arena. This arena has always made me nervous. It sits nestled in an intersection between a four-lane road and a two-lane road, and then across the road is an airport. In effect what you get is the noise of trucks plus the scary giant white raptors in the sky. Buzzy was completely fine with all this, and I, however, wasn't. I felt exposed, and it didn't make anything better that we had to split the ring with the advanced English riders.
This may not seem that significant, but let me tell you. All of them were cantering, a lot, which meant that Buzzy was picking up on the energy from five or six horses cantering at once. Talk about herd dynamics in action. He was only energized a little by the cantering horses, though. He is extremely focused on me now, I rarely lose his attention anymore, and so he was fine. Like I said before, I wasn't. I got all worried about him reacting to the other horses and the noise and overreacted when he started speeding up. He was speeding up because I was tense, not because he was pitching a fit or being nervous. But I learned an important lesson that day. Listen to what my horse is telling me about myself and what I'm doing and not just what he's doing.
I spent the rest of the morning having a meltdown in one corner of the ring. The instructor (I don't know her name, sadly) was very nice and very supportive.

This was bad?

I got off, feeling like a ticking time bomb and exceedingly dissatisfied with myself, and spent the lunch hour pretending to be cheerful. Heather and Anna, Katie's two sisters, had come to visit us at the barns. Heather didn't understand leads very well, so she asked the Western instructor to show her how they worked. I don't like the way he teaches his horsemanship, but he knows a lot about general riding. He showed us how leads worked by using the back feet as an example instead of the front feet. I've always just looked at the front legs to tell which lead, and never really thought about or understood the actual mechanics that go into what a lead is. He said that you use one foot to push yourself around a circle, and so does a horse. So if you're going around a circle to the right then you're using your left foot to push off and essentially pivoting on your right. And if I remember correctly that meant that your right foot was leading. I could be wrong. Anyway, our two feet were simulating the horse's back feet.

Me overreacting. Buzzy making a funny pose.

It was a very interesting and amusing ten minutes. I got to watch Heather trying to canter around in a circle and understand leads better. After that I went to go saddle up, and while I was in the stall tightening Buzzy's girth something completely terrifying happened. Lightning flashed down from the sky and stuck somewhere in the midst of the Ag Center grounds. I knew it was on the grounds because there was absolutely no pause between the lightning and the thunder. It sounded like a shotgun. Not that I've ever heard a shotgun, but if I heard one I'm sure it would sound like that. It was insane. Me and Buzzy both leaped out of our skins simultaneously. After I was sure we both still had all nine limbs and limited brain damage I got out of there fast. Everyone went around with an O.O look on their face for the next twenty minutes or so. Lets just say we didn't ride that evening, so I didn't get a chance to redeem myself from my breakdown that morning. However, we didn't get a blip from the sky the rest of the evening.

Me pushing Katie in a wheelbarrow

We got to go the BB&Q still, though. It's held in the main arena. You have to get their early in order to get a good spot in line, but once they start serving food things move pretty quickly. While we were standing waiting for our food we got to watch the saddleseat (gaited) riders who were going to State ride. They got some extra practice because that show is a pretty big deal where I live. Every 4-Her who has a decent horse and half a mind tries to go to that show. I haven't yet. I might go next year, judging from what I learned about Buzzy's non-reaction to new places at camp this time.
Anyway, I got to watch them trot/gait their horses around in circles. They were all pretty good. I hope they do well.

Chelsea making a funny face while running with an egg.

After the BB&Q (it was great food, by the way) was the horseless games. It's basically a bunch of people running around like idiots doing ridiculous things like pushing their friends in wheelbarrows and riding fake horses while balancing an egg in a spoon. Katie, these two other girls and I were on a team. The other two were friends of Katie I didn't know that well but liked anyway-Chelsea and Crosby. Hopefully I spelled their names right. I probably didn't. After the games were over we had a MASSIVE water balloon showdown. Everyone split into two groups and each person got one water balloon, and then at the count of three we all threw our water balloon. Mine didn't pop. It bounced off and popped on the ground instead. The whole one water balloon per person thing didn't work out all that well, and so everyone made a mad dash for the bucket. Then everyone nailed Colin. Unfortunately, he had a massive water canon.
You can guess what happened next.

Colin nailing people with his water canon

Anyway, we had a blast. It was tons of fun and really cheered me up after that morning. Me and Katie went running once the games were over, about a mile or so around the grounds of the Center, and I actually kept up reasonably well. I'm very slow, so I was delighted to find someone my speed. I wish she lived up here. She's one of my best friends, and I don't get to see her more than once or twice a year.

Wednesday
The previous night Dad brought me a sleeping back, so I wasn't cold. I slept like a baby, undisturbed from the moment I laid my head down to the moment I opened my eyes. It was wonderful. This was the last and best day of camp in my opinion. Buzzy was awesome. We were both awesome. Both the instructors for the gaited class were completely drooling over him by the end of the morning. One of them even thought that he might be related to a grand champion because of his name: Home Land Pride. If you happen to know what grand champion that is, feel free to comment. I completely forgot his name. It was Pride something, that's all I know.

The Team

We had a gaited clinic and cow penning. I did cowpening once in the morning and rocked it with my two teammates. We got a cow into the pen in 35 seconds. It was amazing. I left after that and went over to the gaited clinic. I concentrated really hard on not freaking out and translating with my body exactly what speed and feel I was looking for in Buzzy's running walk, and it worked. I had him going really smooth after a few tries. However, there was a ton of traffic. There were about fifteen horses in the ring, gaited riders and English riders, and let me tell you; some of these people were just so oblivious. I got boxed in at one point, behind three English riders riding side-by-side (which is stupid in any situation, did I even need to mention?) with a gaited horse next to me and someone coming up from behind at a running walk. The person behind pushed Buzzy, and he started speeding up but there was no where to go. I had to turn Buzzy into the fence, which produced a very large and painful-sounding clang that got the attention of one of the instructors. She pulled a bunch of people off the rail and talking to them about ring manners and safety. I was grateful, and after that hypervigilant to stay out of trouble. However, the same girl that ran up behind me when I got boxed in did it again. Now I can handle once, even tolerate twice, but when she started to do it a third time I got called down for getting in another horse's space (and that was only because her horse was pushing from behind) so I turned around and told her to stop running up behind me. She did.

Action!

Other than that incident it was fairly uneventful. I got off and went and went to get lunch. Very slowly and carefully. Every muscle was rebelling against me at that point, chanting something like: "NO MORE MOVEMENT!" I got back on after lunch, and went and did cowpenning again except this time with Katie. We had a long wait, which meant I got even more stiff. Buzzy was extremely entertained by the cows, however. He's very curious once he's calm, and so of course he kept trying to socialize with them. One started licking his face. He wasn't bothered at all by this. I think my Tennessee Walking Horse is a cow whisperer.
Anyway, once we got in with the cows it took forever to get one cut out of the herd. They kept running back. These cows were a lot harder than the herd we had in the morning. We finally got two in the pen, however.
After the cows I went back to the gaited clinic. We spent almost the whole time in a running walk. A spectacular running walk, if I do say so myself. Then came the packing. Heather was astonished when Buzzy just walked into the trailer, no fuss, didn't even bat an ear. The packing and leaving went amazingly fast, and before we knew it we had left the Ag Center with only the memory of camp and a couple T-shirts to commemorate it. I went home and crashed.

/endrant

P.S. This post took me three days to write. Appreciate, people.

P.P.S. I had some videos, but they are taking WAY too long to upload with our snail internet, and I'm impatient.

This Curly Thing

Dear Wal,

As you can see from those pictures from my horse lesson I put up the other day, I have curly hair. Really poofy curly hair. My mom got me this book, Curly Girl, about taking care of curly hair and I couldn't believe my eyes. These people were real people with real hair and this really worked for them. I'm used to seeing the superstar actors and singers with curly hair and dreaming that my frizzy mess could be smooth and shiny like theirs, and then being disappointed when I think "Well, that's never going to happen." This looks like it really would work. Taking care of curly hair naturally. Who woulda thunk it?
I certainly didn't.
I mean, my hair has never bothered me on a deeply emotional level like some of the horror stories in Curly Girl. It's terrible some of the stuff these people went through. This one woman went through high school in total shame and disgrace because of her hair, and was legitimately scared for life by that experience. My curly, poofy hair was always just there. I accepted it as mine and present, I just washed it and left it mostly. The horror came with three hour hair cuts and brushing. I was a devil child. And I hated having my hair brushed, and for good reason. It was painful. I don't like doing it now. Hair cuts were even worse, because I had to sit there for an extended period of time and just stare at myself in a mirror while some stranger messed with my hair. I hate people messing with my hair. It just annoys me. "Just leave it." I'm always saying. One time my mom tried to blow dry my hair. I never let her do that again. She braids my hair occasionally, and it always turns out poofed and everywhere because she doesn't know how to handle it. It's not her fault, it's just my hair. It's hard. Curly hair is hard. You have to treat it like an unruly horse. Like Buzzy; with care.
But this book.
I was a little doubtful at first, but it was a book and it was laying there with a picture of a woman with wonderfully tamed curls on the front so I picked it up and read it. I was horrified by some of the things I read about people doing to their hair and fascinated by this wonderfully simple technique Curly Girl offers. Let me just say this, I've never straightened my hair. I've only ever used shampoo and conditioner and occasionally some stay-in goop. I've always brushed it though, and lately as it's been getting longer I've been noticing it's getting harder to handle and there's a lot more hair coming out in my brush than I'd like. Not that I'm worried about going bald or anything, but I would prefer not to rip out my hair slowly, strand by strand, over the rest of my lifetime. Compared to some people (A lot of people, according to this book. Who in the world would stick a hot metal object near their eyes and ears? Honestly, people.) the way I handle my hair is nothing. Chemical straightening, straightening irons, all kinds of anything that might work. I get the desperation. But I've never been that desperate.
So I'm going to try out this new thing and see how/if it works. It's harmless-no fancy product with who knows what in it that you have to buy or special tool to tease your hair into shape-just no shampoo and combing through your hair with your fingers instead of a brush. Essentially, anyway. Really it's a more fine-tuned degree of letting your hair be-fewer chemicals, no brushing. I'm intrigued. I might have superstar hair.
Not likely. But what's the harm in dreaming?

/endrant

P.S. I started doing the program in that book and it's fantastic. I've worn my hair down more days in one week than I think I have in the past year and a half.

Buzzy VS.

Dear Wal,

My horse lesson yesterday was extremely exciting. We confronted the issue of who's boss in a very big, explosive way. Buzzy has a bolting issue. If he doesn't like what you're doing then he just leaves. My instructor told me to get off and spin him around in a couple of really fast 180s until he got the picture. There was dust flying, lots of tail flicking and head tossing but I got the message through. And this time I have pictures.

Before the lesson started, hanging out and chillin'

Walking

Running walk :D

More running walk :DD

And more running walk :DDD

My JLA shirt of awesome

 And then he started being a brat so we had a chat.

NO D<

I HATE YOU D<

TRAUMA D8

/endrant

P.S. No. That's not me grinning sadistically while chasing my horse with a rope.

Killer Sinks, Superham and a Revelation

Dear Wal,

I've been absent from the great wild wilderness of the fantastic jungle of the internet for a while now haven't I? What can I say. Final exams. Things got insane, and here I am writing to you in the middle of the night and tomorrow I have to take my final Biology exam. I'm not worried about it. But my stomach is. Or it might be that hamburger I had for lunch today.
I had a complete emotional breakdown due to stress from my exams, and of course I did it in the middle of my horse lesson. I hadn't posted for what-a week-before that happened. That should've been a sign of impending doom. I like blogging. It's a strange new experience I have yet to fully embrace and understand. Anyway, it was bad. I spent three days with a blank mask for a face and a mind in tatters. It was worse than anything I have ever experienced in my entire life. It was like a nuclear explosion in the middle of a hurricane while a volcano is exploding during the first wave of zombies coming to eat my FACE; all inside my head.
Things were rough, and you know the only thing that made me laugh, really laugh, during those three days? Superham.
I started an outline for my fanfiction-yes, the legendary and illusive fanfiction-and was typing along when all of a sudden Superman morphed into Superham. I busted out laughing. Clark, as a ham, the images. Let's just say I had been watching a lot of Smallville. Smallville is very theraputic. Clark is such a conflicted idiot, it makes you realize that your problems are nothing compared to the problems of a superpowered-perfect, did I mention?-being from outer space. But he always comes through in the end, no matter how long and hard the journey. Plus, the plot is so simple and predictable that it's hard for a horrible conflicted mind like mine to twist it into something it isn't. Although, I have to say I never saw who the Red Queen really was coming. That has to be one of my favorite moments.
I haven't seen season ten yet. No spoilers. I know Lex comes back, and I can't wait. Lex is my favorite villain on Smallville, and really the only Superman villain I like in general. Although, he can be pretty lame. Him and his toupee (I spelled that tupea the first try).
You're probably wondering, what is this terrifying killer sink you speak of? Well, let me tell you. I clean cottages for our family business renting them, and so I went up to one of the houses to clean and started cleaning the kitchen. I got to the sink, and I was minding my own business rinsing soft scrub off it's newly cleaned stainless steel surface when I noticed the faucet was leaking. A gasket had broken around the bottom of the hand and water was running out of it like crazy. This was all well and good, so I thought "Don't panic. Let's see what it is." I turn off the sink, give the gasket a close inspection and then turn on the faucet with my face a few inches from the handle. Big mistake. I got squirted in the face with a stream of very cold water. I turned it off before it got everywhere-thank God for reflexes-and told Dad it was broken.
He had to go buy a part. I have to clean that house again on Friday. I'm scared.
Now for the revelation. Of all the things to come out of this huge emotional crisis of mine, I discovered something about Elliot. The mysterious Elliot who's Jason's nemesis, I mean. I don't know whether or not I've mentioned it before, I probably have but don't remember, but I've been trying to write him in his own story because he's so blasted amazing he deserves it. However, the thing that I discovered about Elliot completely smashes that idea. Yes, he's awesome, but he doesn't need his own story. He belongs opposite Jason. He belongs in a comic book. This makes me sad, because I wrote at least forty pages of story solely devoted to Elliot, but also makes me glad because I don't have to struggle with him anymore. (Did you see that? Sad-glad; I rhymed. Bet you didn't see it.) I don't have to try and force him into a story where he doesn't belong.
Granted, he can rock any story I put him. He could be my universal villain, reeking havoc through an entire universe of stories, but I know he deserves better than that. I don't want to turn him into a dead horse.
Of course, this means my fanfiction will go much smoother now. No danger of conflicts between his personal story and his story in the fanfiction (I HATE it when continuity doesn't agree) and the only place I can experience his awesome is in the fanfiction. Maybe this wonderful, ridiculous story I've been trying to write for a year and a half will actually get written. I have hope.

/endrant