Mini Me Mod
Location Denver, CO
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Sprocket's Training Milestones
Came home (Aug 2, 2014)
Asked to go outside (Aug 5, 2014)
Slept 4 hours straight (night) (Aug 5-6, 2014)
7/3/13 - 8
7/4/13 - 30
7/5/13 - 36
7/10/13 - 54
7/11/13 - 57
7/18/13 - 67
2/17/14 - 83
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- Dream of the Red Chamber
- Time to Kill
- Scent of the Missing
Saturday. 2.19.11 7:58 am
The laughter died down around as the woman finished her story.
“So you have been to Alitor, Migram and even Soloth. Where haven’t you been?” the bartender asked pouring her another full glass of mead.
“What about before that?” asked the man next to her. The girl tossed her glossy hair as though to begin another chapter of her story, but suddenly her smile faded.
“What’s wrong?” the man asked, suddenly concerned.
The girl smiled meekly and then replied, “Well, in my home country, I was a goddess.”
A roar of laughter erupted from the crowd.
“Those dumb country people,” declared one man uproariously, “I bet you had your pick of temple slaves back then.”
They all shared a collective chuckle.
The girl shook her head, “Don’t call them dumb.”
Everyone fell silent.
“They all believed in something. I think, somewhere, we all do. They just thought that it was me.”
It all began on the frigid steps of Nortalto. I was born in the dead of winter. The midwife swore that I had died, but by some miracle, I came back to life. On the same night, the goddess who had come before me passed away. They believed, that night, that her soul was given over to me making me her successor.
There is no real way you can prepare a child to be a goddess, but the people of the village tried. I was immediately given over to the priests and priestesses. They raised me in the way of the word, telling me all of the customs of our people. This is where I learned to read and write. I learned a lot from them and they were all very kind to me. When I was determined to have come of age, I was set up in the high temple with the temple virgins. I was instructed to hear the complaints of the people and give them answers according to my own divine intuition.
Now, you must understand, I was never told to doubt that I was in fact a god. There was many gods in those days and it was not too remarkable to believe that our village had its own. Religion was not persecuted as it is in the city.
The people who came to me had many problems and I gave them the best wisdom I had available to me. I was confident in it because I believed that I was special, but for someone like myself, it was not always possible to ignore my imperfections. Perhaps it was harder than it is for others.
There was a woman who came to be complained of being barren. I told her that she should place a root under her bed, for that is our custom. She did so for three years and no child came.
A man came asking me to bless his goat. The goat was very sick. Its coarse hair was patching all over and its eyes seemed to be smoky and distant. I lay my hands upon its head and said a prayer over it, but the goat died the very same night.
Yet again, a man came to me having been injured in an accident with the plow. He asked me if I could cure his leg. Looking at the leg, I knew there was nothing that I could do. I shook my head and turned him away, but was unable to explain to him why.
These incidents, spread apart over the years, were not as common as one might expect. The people believed in me. Their goddess did provide for them. The crops grew long and healthy and the village prospered. You see, as odd as it may sound to you, I began to feel the spirit of my village’s goddess. I felt her in the wind, I felt her in the soil beneath my feet, I even felt her in me, but I soon realized that she was not me.
At the end of three years, the woman was given a baby boy.
After the man had grieved his only remaining goat, he bought a flock of sheep from a traveler and grew it to be one of the largest flocks in the village.
The man who's leg had been severed became a priest of our order and spent his time among the children of the village, taking care of them while their mothers and fathers were away in the fields.
It was like a glittering thread of gold that glinted off every petal in the world. It was like a breath and a heartbeat that flowed through everything I ever knew. It was so much a part of it, I could hardly tell the fabric from it's maker. For me, this became the goddess.
Strokes, Heart Attacks and other worries
Tuesday. 2.15.11 8:03 am
I have been trying to worry less, but sometimes, certain ones just come up, like today. I had a stinging gnaw of a pain right in my arm, flashing like a red light underneath my skin. I tried to shake it off and found myself clenching my fingers again and again, like someone in a movie right before they get a heart attack. It does not help that I've been so tired lately, or that the last time I went into the doctor they said, "you're cholesterol is a little high, not too high, but you should keep an eye on it". That's not all either.
There was the numbness that came and went a few weeks ago, the lisp that keeps on going and coming, the blurriness, the goddamn headaches. They're all so scary and I don't know what to do about them.
I guess, I could just act like I had a heart attack or a stroke. Keep on exercising as much as I can, try to eat more onions, eat fewer french fries and for God's sake, try not to worry so much. That, or ask about heart surgery in a foreign country miles away from all of my loved ones. Yeah, that would be SUPER!
More Tales From Shangrila
Saturday. 2.12.11 7:11 pm
"AFFORDABLE BREAST IMPLANTS!" my spam inbox said brightly. I admit it was an improvement over the 'erectile dysfunction' emails. Yet, even as a smile rippled across my face, it suddenly occurred to me that 'breast implants', did not sound as absurd as they once did.
Sometimes, when I make a birthday suit run to my mirrored closet, I think about what it would be like to have a little surgery. Here we go: a little bigger boobs here, a little less tush there, botox on the forehead to get rid of the head wrinkles and the stretch marks. It is hard not to think that way in Shangrila.
You see, in my world no one who looks anything like me is over 40. You get the sinking impression that no one but Koreans get old and when they do, they are all ancient, pushing around little baskets, shuffling and bent at the waist. Not only that, but Korean or Foreign, it seems like every woman is hot.
Then there is me. Somehow I must have passed the photograph test, but I admit, it probably had a lot to do with the fact that I got my hair done the same day I got the photos taken. My boobs, which I thought until recently were definitely "B"s turn out to be "A"s and that realization does not come with having a suitably proportional waif weight-class. This means, while not exactly mannish, my figure has sort of the vague impression of a tool, ergonomically tightened at the middle for better gripping.
Meanwhile, hanging in the air between all of us is that never ending question (quite suited for the Valentine's season), "Are you with anybody", to which my answer is a confident, although faked, "Nah, not, yet."
So how do I feel? Incomplete, overworked, stressed and somehow happy. It's true, I'm not perfect, but I was not exactly made that way. So, while I would not mind having the body of a playboy pinup, I really have no desire to do the things required of me to get it. Despite all my of my insecurities, I kind of like myself, just the way I am.
My Layman's thoughts on the Korean conflict
Thursday. 2.10.11 5:55 pm
From 1950-1953, Korea was engaged in a civil war. This lead to an armistice in 1953 which essentially put the war on pause until further notice. The South, supported by the USA, created a government in the democratic style. The North followed a more communist approach, which (like the Soviet Union and China before it) has become more of a tyranny (if you would excuse the strong language).
However, even though the war is on pause, that does not mean that the cold war does not still rage on. The North and South both have an army ready to start up the fight again at any moment.
Recently, the North had been put on the international stage by a figure known as Kim Jung Il. Kim Jung Il was identified by President Bush as one of the 'axis of evil' and has acquired nuclear capacity. However, Kim Jong Il is getting old and sickly, which, just like the death of Stalin in the soviet block countries, could lead to a dangerous power vacuum. To solve that, Kim Jong Il is setting up his son, Kim Jong Un, to be his successor.
This is not all. North Korea, unfortunately, is subject to one of the other problems that has crippled countries who have attempted the communist ideal: extreme poverty. The North Koreans are starving, mostly to keep alive the last threat that the North Koreans have in their hand: their military.
So, on the one hand is a proud nation on one side of a fifty year conflict who, for all intensive purposes, is losing. On the other, is a nation sitting on a nuclear weapon, dying to use it. Why? Because they need to have their self-respect, they need to save face, they need to be taken seriously, they do not need to be told that they were wrong.
On the other side of the fence, President Obama is calling North Korea 'childish' and South Korea is calling this successor 'the fat prince'. Are you starting to see the problem?
Now, the question is: what is the next step for South Korea and the United States of America. It is one really simple thing that may prove difficult to achieve: they have to find a way for North Korea to make the changes it needs to make while still retaining its pride.
Ideally, we could see one unified Korea in the future. The reunified Korea would, of course, have to deal with the economic imbalance between the two nations, but if they looked for it, I would imagine that the Koreas could find something that would make North Korea an equal partner in the financial recovery of the nation. Some things that come to mind: untapped resources, untapped wilderness, tourism possibilities, a destination for film and photography, or even the opportunity for redevelopment on a uniquely environmentally friendly model. In the right minds, the possibilities are endless. It is just up to us to find them.
Orphans in Korea
Thursday. 2.10.11 8:53 am
It is sometimes hard to remember why I make that hour-long trip out to the little orphanage on the other side of town. I always keep in my pocket that hazy recollection of 'Theresa'. Her warm smile and her sweet accommodating attitude.
She told me today that she ended up staying at the orphanage all night, yesterday. Some of the orphans were graduating from high school about now. That not only meant they were graduating from school, but from their home as well. Many of them already had jobs and they were working with them to find a place to live, however, Theresa was still worried about them. So, in a final effort to make sure they found their place in the world, she invited them one by one into her office to tell them about the bank book, how to keep track of their spending and to tell each of them that wherever they were, whatever happened, they could call her at this number and reach her at this place, for a least the next three years.
Yes, I think she is a very big reason.
Stuck in Beginnings
Wednesday. 2.9.11 10:29 pm
These are two beginning I just came up with.. unfortunately they lack middles and ends.
They did not need two children, Lucinda thought as she leaned into the door frame, at least not ones that looked so alike as they did. The way that they wandered ahead of them, leaving the little ones to scramble after their trailing furs, it did not really seem like they could ever want them both. Especially not the dreamy one, Lucinda reasoned, the one who liked to peer into window shops and little corners, the way they hollered at him to come after them in that weary exasperated way, they were almost at their wits end with him. She would, as it were, be doing them a service.
She looked at her own belly, barren these three years. Kip was a patient man and still very young, but she did not want him to have to wait for a son anymore. She wanted to have one now. She and Kip, they did not mind dreamers, not performers and wanderers like themselves. Besides, love is a much thicker tie than mere likenesses. In fact, if what they said about the monarchy was true, mere likeness had the capacity to exclude love.
So it was that, just after noon, Lucinda bent down beside a curly-headed boy and became, in a moment, his mother.
Albert, the Labrador, did not plan things out quite in the same way that his master did. Sure, he would plan to make it to the other end of the yard and plan to make it back again by time for dinner, but unlike his master, Albert did not spend a lot of time fussing about futures, pasts and all the valuable presents that came between them. In fact, if you were to ask Albert, he would have been very confused by the whole idea of it all.
No, what made the sleek black dog pad determinedly under the fence, out of the yard and out into the open forest, was not any kind of plan, but Katie was entirely convinced that it was.
“Albert!” she cried, “Albert! Get back here! You can’t go beyond the fence! If I haven’t told you a thousand times.”
Katie knew it was worthless talking to a dog, but try as she might, she could not help herself from doing it. Ordinarily, Katie spent a lot of time listening: listening to teachers go on and on about life, culture and art, listening to her friends talk about their divided families, their shattered dreams, mental ailments and somewhat hazy futures, listening to her parents talk about finances, management, hiring, firing and all manners of other unpleasant things. Sometimes Katie got the impression that Albert was the only person- creature in the world that really listened to her- Well, most of the time.
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