Before you read any further, please click on over to NPW’s blog to begin the story.  From there, you’ll be given a choice of links depending on how you wish the story to play out.  Chose wisely!  There are a great many wonderful bloggers involved, and the story can take some interesting twists.

Hope to see you back here in a bit!  Have fun!

Begin HERE

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“All right, fine.” said Annelise.  “But you’ve got some explaining to do.  I overheard you talking to Professor Kildare, and you’ve been missing for two days!  Where have you been?  What have you been doing?  You’re covered in blood, and don’t tell me about zombies!”

“I’m disappointed that you heard my conversations, but not surprised,” said Annelise’s father.  “I knew you’d probably be curious, and I know you and how resourceful you are.  That’s why I hid those papers in there; to throw you off.  Things haven’t exactly worked out how I’d planned.”  He looked around with panicked urgency, as if something could be coming for him at any minute.  “The important thing now is for you to trust me, and to stay where you are.  I have to take care of a few things.”

“No!” said Annelise.  “That’s not an explanation, and…”

“I’m sorry hun!  I just… I just need you to stay here for now.  I’ll make it ok, you’ll see.  Just trust me, ok?

Annelise’s father turned suddenly and left the room.  She could hear him on the stairs, muttering to himself.  She stifled the urge to simply follow, noting that she hadn’t specifically agreed to stay.  Still, she trusted him and obeyed.  He’d always been impulsive and a bit of a joker, but she’d never really seen him quite so agitated.  She resigned herself to her own curiosity again, and decided to examine the chest a bit more thoroughly.  Hiding silly writing inside may have been his way of distracting her from something.  She had to know.

She stared at the chest.  It still had that pulse… that attraction.  There is more to this, she thought.  Whatever was in here; talisman or whatever, isn’t entirely gone.  There were some intricate writings on the side.  Nothing she could read, but interesting in the fact that they were somehow not a part of the chest, and yet they were.  Not carved into it, but added later?  Gingerly at first, she touched them.  Pushed on them a little… nothing happened.  That sense of foreboding was back, but it was mixed with excitement and vague understanding, tinged with fear and a certain rush.  Suddenly, somehow, she got it.

There wasn’t just one compartment, she thought.  It made sense.  The chest was much larger than the area that held her father’s little joke.  The answer is inside here, and I know how to…

Suddenly there was a huge crash from downstairs.  Annelise jumped, startled.  “Stay back!  Stay BACK!  Noooo!” shouted the voice of her father.  “Annelise!  I can’t… stop!  They have… bring the… hurry!”  His voice was strained, and she couldn’t make everything out.  Quickly, she headed for the door in a panic, thoughts racing through her mind.  “I’ll get the gun!” she screamed, intent on running down as fast as possible, but she paused.

The chest… There’s more, and I know…  Trace the letters on the side.  That’s the second key!  But he’s in trouble now!  There isn’t much time…

If you think Annelise should get the gun and go downstairs, click here.

If you think Annelise should trace the letters on the chest, click here.

First and foremost: I hate repeating myself.  Nonetheless, I must reiterate my desire for Jon and Kate to GO AWAY forever and NEVER be heard from again.  Not only did their pathetic lives continue to exist in my daily news, they’ve actually increased coverage.  Nobody gives a shit about your marital problems, your show, or anything to do with you whatsoever.  Stop it already.  Your 15 minutes have long been up.  It’s time.

I’m glad that Balloon Boy’s parents are going up the creek for their idiotic sham.  I’m not saying this to brag, but I called it almost the moment I saw the coverage on CNN at work.  “The kid is not even in the damn thing,” I said to the lunchroom.  “I bet he’s hiding somewhere at home and his parents know exactly where he is.”  I was right.  As it turns out, the balloon wasn’t even physically capable of holding the brat, and I think it’s funny that it was the kid himself that outed his dumb-ass dad on national television.  I hope they throw the book at them so that justice is served and I can continue laughing.  Oh, and by the way Balloon Dad, reality television is the tool of the Devil.  Just so you know.

I’ve been using these teeth-whitening trays on the advice of an e-friend.  I’ve been trying to perfect my smile at work, but I realized one day that my teeth aren’t exactly as white and delight-some as everyone else’s.  I desperately need help, and the tray things were the best recommendation I received.  I promptly went out and bought some, and after reading the directions carefully, tried them at home.  The box promised that there would be “visible results” after only three days.  I must say, after 5 days of using them, my gums are a bit paler and uncomfortably more sensitive, but my teeth aren’t any whiter at all.  Not quite the visible results I was hoping for.

On a geekier note, last Friday I attended the symphony.  No, it wasn’t Schubert or Mozart, it was Star Wars in Concert!  Yay!  You know, turning 5 on the very day that Star Wars came out, I always had an appreciation for it.  Call me a fan.  It was one of the best birthday presents I’ve ever received, so naturally I’ve always loved Star Wars in a personal way.  Being a musician as well, and a string major to boot, I’m also intimately knowledgeable about the symphony, so the combination was perfect!  My 501st membership granted me behind the scenes access, and I trooped the event with my fellow geeks as a spotter and photographer.  The real treat was watching the music that I’ve grown up with be performed live though, and I’m happy I got the opportunity to experience it.  For a little while at least, I was a kid again.

That’s enough for now.  I’ll write again soon.  Be good and remember to show love to your favorite blogs.

The other day I pulled out in front of someone as I crossed lanes to make a left turn.  I get extremely agitated when people do this to me, and yet here I am doing it to someone else.  It was an honest mistake though, but that doesn’t excuse it.  I got thoroughly honked at by the offended cars, and I felt really bad for several minutes afterward.  I was an idiot and I didn’t pay proper attention, and I admit it.

Just last night I was waiting at a red light, and when it turned green, I promptly turned left.  Sounds fine up to this point, but the fact that there was no green arrow caused the oncoming traffic from the other direction to give me my second thorough honking within a week.  I don’t know what I was thinking at the time, but it apparently wasn’t to check if there was an arrow.  I basically crossed oncoming traffic.  How stupid and dangerous a moment of distraction can be.

My only saving grace in all of this is my Utah state license plate.  People will see the plates and simply say to themselves, “that figures.”  I’m sure people instantly peg me as just another bad Utah driver.  It’s embarrassing to have to use that as my defense, but I do what I have to do.  At least my mistakes were honest mistakes and I own up to them.  Typical Utah drivers simply ignore traffic rules altogether for no other reason except inconvenience.  Blatantly running red lights, excessive speeding, puling out in front of traffic, and just general weaving all over the road, not to mention driving while texting (now illegal in Utah, and you WILL get pulled over) are such common occurrences here that I guess I’ve simply grown oblivious to them to the point where I’m beginning to assimilate into the local culture.  The bad driving culture.

These are mistakes that I would NEVER have made before.  How sad and pathetic.

That’s me in the mornings.  Doesn’t matter what time I went to bed the night before, or how much sleep I got.  I could have been asleep for days, but I’d still be a zombie if my awakening were to occur any time before noon.  I’ve always been that way, and I don’t know that it will ever change.  Very simply, it’s who I am.

People that are bright and cheery in the early mornings annoy me, and I’m both envious and put off at the same time.  I don’t know how anyone could possibly find anything to be cheerful about with only a handful of brain cells activated.  Perhaps they’re chemically altered with coffee or soda pop.  Those things simply don’t work for me.   Certainly, cheerfulness cannot be a normal state in the early morn.  It is inhuman.  Inhuman I say!

I recently agreed to take the morning shift at work.  I’m fine with it, actually, because the carrot was getting my weekends off.  That’s a nice thing; it makes me feel normal, in a way.  In order to achieve this morning shift however, I must somehow coax my warm, comfortable, and perfectly happy self out of bed at the ungodly hour of 5:30AM.  This is because I am a shower-taker and a breakfast-eater.  I could probably gain another half-hour or so of blissful sleep otherwise, but my body is conditioned to food at the onset of my day, and a shower is the only thing capable of semi-waking me up.  Because of the shower-taking and breakfast-eating, I lose roughly 15-20 minutes of beloved sleep.  I also must spend an additional 10-15 minutes wandering about it a dazed stupor.  These things are necessary to achieve the proper amount of wakefulness needed to drive to work and begin my day.

It’s not 100% peachy though, even then.  My job consists of sitting in my office and answering phones, which is conducive to lots of head-nodding and eye-rubbing.  Don’t misunderstand:  I like my job and I’m ever grateful for the opportunity, I simply have a hard time adjusting to life before noon.

As the wise and noble Garfield (the cat) once said:  “Mornings would be great if they came later in the day.”  I’m a firm subscriber to this way of thinking.  It’s unnatural to be awake before the sun comes up.  For primitive man, it could have meant life or death.  No one wants to get eaten by a saber-tooth tiger whilst stumbling about in the dark, especially before morning coffee.  Take a lesson from our ancestors, and remember that more sleep is always a good thing.  Oh, and if you see an unkempt creature with wrinkled clothing, messy hair, purple eye bags and a pale complexion, lumbering along with a blank expression of abject misery, it’s either Amy Winehouse, or just me, on my way to start my day.

Since I’ve had this blog, I’ve tracked my readership pretty thoroughly.  I’ve discovered that blogs need to be easily digestible and written in small chunks of 300 to 500 words.  Any less, and it’s not really a blog, it’s a tweet.  Any more, and people won’t read it.  I tend to get the most and the best quality comments on posts that average about 500 words, and so I’ve accepted this as the formula to which I need to adhere.

You may advise that I should just write what I write, and forget whether anyone reads it or not, but I don’t feel that way.  I want people to read my blog and I want people to comment on it.  I live for those little comments at the end, and I’m quite delighted when my e-mail informs me of a new one.  Call me vain, I guess.  Or needy.  Either way, I love blogging and I love the attention I get when people read it.  Makes me feel noticed.

I’m a wordy person though.  I can’t simply get my thoughts or feelings out in a few sparse sentences.  I need paragraphs and paragraphs and pages and pages to get my points across.  I can’t help it; I’ve always been that way.  In school, when all the other kids used to whine about the essay the teacher assigned, I was already passing 1,000 words minutes later.  I could never keep myself in check when it came to volume.  I suspect I never really will.

Today I wrote a comment on a friend’s blog that had already passed 1,000 words before I even got into the meat of what I wanted to say.  A comment!  When I noticed what was going on, I deleted it and left a small explanation.  The topic was just too much for a few words, and I needed many!  I’d love to address her post, but I feel that I can’t give it due credit in a comment.  Even writing my own blog about it would require several posts on my part.  So much to say, and so little space!

That’s my frustration.  I’m being limited by my own rules.  Keeping it down to manageable length is hard, but if I want anyone to actually read it, it’s necessary.  I’ve considered exploring the option of multiple parts, like a series.  I may still do that for heady topics, like the one I have planned on religion, but for now I’ll just try to keep them short.

Anyone else have any thoughts on this?  Perhaps if my blog ever gets popular, and I develop a solid readership, I can expand my posts somewhat more.  I note that many of my fellow bloggers tend to write much longer posts, but they’ve got the fans to back it up.  We’ll see.

PS.  This post weighs in at exactly 515 words.  D’oh!

That reminds me:  Do you ever look at your watch or phone or clock to note the time, sometimes even repeatedly, and still not know what time it is?  I do that a lot too.

Work is still going well, as far as I can tell.  Sometimes I feel a little out of the loop though, considering I’m kinda at the social center of the hotel, being the fist point of contact for anyone calling in, and being that my office is literally right next to the time clock where every employee clocks in and out.  You’d think I’d feel like “one of the gang”, but I don’t.  I’m still a temp, and for some reason that makes me feel like an outsider.  I’ve been training new front desk employees on the PBX system lately, which makes me feel special and important, but I still don’t seem to fit in.  Maybe it’s just my perception.  Everyone here seems to genuinely like me, which a curious thing.  They also think I’m in my late 20s, which highly amuses me (and brings an instant smile to my face.)  There are a couple of cute girls that work in the spa who sometimes come and visit me on breaks or during their lunch, just to chat and be friendly.  One of the managers told me the other day: “Every time I walk by here, there are girls in this office!”  To which I respond, “hey, what can I say?  That’s why they call me ‘The Operator’!”

In truth, the call me the Operator because I answer the phones.  I guess you had to be there, but trust me, it’s funny.

Fall is almost here.  I can feel it in the air, and I can see it on the leaves that adorn the trees.  Especially here in Park City, which is at a higher elevation than Salt Lake; the scenery is becoming fantastic.  I love Fall so much.  I think there should be a whole planet where it’s Fall all the time, so I could move there.  “Planet Fall”, I’d call it.  There’s a crispness and a charge in the air, and Halloween (my favorite holiday) is fast approaching.  Last year I went to Vegas, but this year finances may not be in order, so I need something to do.  The charity club I belong to is having a party, but this being Utah, it’s going to have “family friendly” activities.  This is Halloween!  Who wants “family friendly?”  I’m up for some debauchery.  Anyway, Fall is almost here and it makes me giddy.  Just so you know.

Well then.  I’m over 500 words already, so it’s time to go.  Type at ‘cha again soon.

I don’t know who Jon and Kate are, but they are driving me mad.  Yes, I know that I could google them and find out, but I honestly don’t care enough to do so.  Jon hates Kate, Kate hates Jon, they both hate together… who cares?  I imagine that they are some overnight celebrity couple who won fame on a game show or some reality TV nonsense, but I could be wrong.  Regardless, I would try to ignore them except they keep popping up on my Internets almost daily.  Every time I try to read up on my news, regardless of whatever web site I use, Jon and Kate jump out specifically to annoy me.  Stop it already!  Nobody (and by nobody, I mean me) cares about either one of you.  Please fade away into obscurity where you belong.

II.

I have State Farm insurance.  I’ve had them for more than 20 years, and I’ve loved the low rates and helpful agents the whole time, but for the LOVE OF GOD, fix your website!  State Farm has the most asinine security system possible, and it has once again locked me out for failing to answer stupid questions three times.  The worst part is, I KNOW I gave the correct answers to the stupid questions.  I’ve been using those SAME correct answers for a number of years now, but for some reason, this time DoucheBot didn’t like them, and subsequently locked me out.  I did possibly want to pay my bill, but I’m feeling more ambivalent to that possibility now that I have to jump through hoops to get my account reinstated.  Here’s a hint, State Farm:  Technology is supposed to make things EASIER, not more aggravating.

III.

Got into a fun little debate on Facebook today about Obama’s speech to the kiddies this morning.  I read the full text of the speech, and I applaud it heartily for its good message and its relevancy.  What annoys me are the parents that are having fits over it.  I understand that as parents, you need to know exactly the type of information your kids are being exposed to as school.  That is important, and I agree with you.  However, don’t dismiss what the President has to say simply because your own personal politics give you some sort of grudge against him.  Your kids are not your politics, and no matter how much you hate Democrats or hate Obama or hate Liberals, that doesn’t give you the excuse to use your children as a personal political shield.

The parents that are going batshit insane over this are, by and large, residents of areas that voted Conservative in the polls last November.  This isn’t me saying that either, it’s the news agencies reporting it.  What this says to me is that people are bitter about having their conservative representatives lose the election, and they see this as a way to make noise.  I’m sorry if your conservative values don’t jibe with the way our country needs to be run, but don’t deny supportive and encouraging information to your kids because of it.

Could you imagine Sarah Palin making an address to school children?  It would probably involve prayer hour and Jesus riding dinosaurs to school as a little boy.  No thanks, I’ll stick with the Liberal views this particular time.  The best thing for you upset parents to do is talk to your kids when they get home and ask them what they thought of the President and his speech.  Use this as a teachable opportunity, not a political platform for your opinions.

Wouldn’t you know it, the weather today was all but perfect.  Yeah, there were some big puffy clouds about, but otherwise the sky was sunny and blue and the temperature right around 90.  Would have been good hiking weather, but I got too late of a start, and decided to go for a Sunday drive instead.

When my friend Sra moved far away forever, she sent me a selection of guide books she had in her collection detailing Utah.  Since she’s in Oregon now, she felt the Utah books would benefit me far more than her, so they since have come to be in my possession.  These books have been the best gift I’ve received from anyone in a long time.  Not only have they given me a few more target mountains to climb before the year is out, they’ve also brought several wonderful places to my attention that I may have not heard about otherwise.  They are treasured items to me now.

One such new discovery was a stretch of road called the Nebo Loop Scenic Byway.  It’s in the Uinta National Forest, down around the Payson area, and extending into Nephi.  It’s only about 45 minutes from my place, so I decided to check it out.  It’s a great 2 (or so) hour drive through some of the prettiest country in Utah, and it covers a pretty diverse landscape ranging from tree-covered mountains to incredible cliff vistas to red rock formations.  I definitely had a great time with this, and I can’t WAIT to go back soon when all of the leaves start changing to see this place in the Fall.  It will be a thousand times more beautiful then.

This is just one of the many such views to be had.  Looking almost due East over a valley.

Mooooove out of the way, cows.  Photography enthusiast and well-known hamburger eater coming through.

Yonder peak is called Mount Nebo.  It is the tallest mountain in the Wasatch front, and is on my short list of mountains to be climbed.  Probably not this year, but definitely by next.  It is quite daunting, and this picture does not do it justice in any way.  This will be the biggest challenge ever.

One of the coolest places in the loop is “Devil’s Kitchen.”  It’s a series of red rock formations set against a cliff that predates the Wasatch range itself.  Sort of a miniature Bryce canyon.  It’s a pretty stark contrast to everything else around it.

One more shot looking out from Devil’s Kitchen toward the base of Mount Nebo.  An amazingly deep valley (once again, photography simply doesn’t give it the proper scale), and a sight to behold.

As I said, I’m going back in a month or so when Fall is in and all the colors will make this place truly come alive.  Anyone wanna come with?

Everyone who really knows me knows how much I truly hate organized religion.  I believe there’s nothing more vile and evil on this earth, but that’s me.  This particular girl’s story upsets me though, because I (and some of the others) can see that she’s in no place to make these kinds of decisions at this stage.  She can’t think rationally at all, and these fine representatives are using that against her.  It sickens me, actually, but my question to all of you, faithful readers, is why should I care?  It’s none of my business, and none of my concern if she finds some kind of solace in religion.  Why does it affect me so?

Am I any better than these church representatives in expressing my opinions to this girl?  Obviously, the advice we’ve given her is to think for herself, and understand that every situation has two sides.  We’ve implored her to read and do research, and not take anything they say as literal truth until she understands all of the angles.  I’ve been a little more blunt, actually, in telling her that these representatives are only telling her what they’ve been told themselves to teach, and they most likely don’t even know the whole truth about which they speak.  She’s confused between the information they’ve given her, and the information we (on the board) are giving her. 

Am I too biased and opinionated to keep this conversation?  Am I in any way even qualified?  I’m pretty strong about my hatred for religion.  Does this color my perception too much?  Will I do more harm than good in this situation?

I really feel like I can help this person find the correct path.  But is it the correct path for her?

Since I’ve been working nights, my diet has been pretty steadily composed of cereal in the morning, and a brown-bagged sandwich of some sort at night, with an occasional cookie thrown in for taste.  That’s fine and all, and it will actually help keep my diet consistent, but sometimes I miss foods that I truly love.  Case in point:  Delicious pizza.  I decided that since I was off on Monday, I would order up a delicious pizza and consume it with glee, before relegating myself to the blandness of sandwiches for the rest of the week.

I had a coupon for Pizza Hut.  Now, I know that Pizza Hut is almost the bottom rung on the pizza ladder, but frankly, it’s not as horrible as say, Little Caesar’s or Noble Roman’s.  It’s not as bad as the $5 pizza place either, or some of the other places around.  I actually prefer it to the Pie here in Salt Lake, even though I know that opinion will probably get me a few comments.  At any rate, it’s certainly not the best pizza by far, nor is it the worst.  And I had a coupon.  A shiny, wonderful little coupon delivered conveniently via junk mail insert that entitled me to a medium-sized hand-tossed pizza for only $8.  Can’t beat that, so I went for it.

It wasn’t bad either.  I ate it, and although I felt a little bloated, it was nothing unexpected.  I haven’t had The Hut for a good long time, so it truly wasn’t awful.  That was yesterday though.

Today I’m feeling terrible.  That pizza is tearing me up, like it’s trying to chew its way through to the outside.  Ugh… what I wouldn’t give for some Alka-Seltzer right now.  Luckily my job is quiet and requires no real movement on my part, because that would certainly be a bad thing.  Remind me to never do that again.  Coupon be damned!

Speaking of my job, I had a nice chat with my boss today.  He asked me what my future plans were, and if I enjoyed working here.  He also told me that I was to get some access to the system for training and informative purposes, and that I was doing a great job.  This made me happy, and helps me to feel like my chances may be getting better.  We shall see.

In the meantime, I’m just gonna sit here feeling all queasy nauseous for the rest of my shift.  I feel betrayed by the delicious pizza.