Thanks kindly commenteers for all your... encouragement. Like the Mouseketeers you have stirred me into action. Albeit a slightly different kind of action, with fewer embarrassing aspirations... Here's the stock-standard silly excuse for not posting:
"I was really waiting until my last post had 10 interesting comments but I figure Luke's one makes up for at least three. :P
And Luke's imagining of my day was actually eerily close to the truth. Except for the part about Brenton and I looking for defenseless animals to beat up. Although we did see a cat with a tumor whose appearance was kind of comical. But I didn't laugh. I was too focussed on how I was going to win our race.
Okay, I guess I should explain that one. It was late, we'd been eating Party Mix, and were feeling particularly spritely. One thing led to another and the outcome was a 100m dash at the park right near his house. Had I been wearing the right footwear and concentrated on my technique I would have won. Or alternatively, if Brenton hadn't had a ginormous head-start I would have won also. :P
So what have I been doing? A lot of small-ish things really. Aside from still working at McDonalds (which goes 24 hours this week. Interestingly I think I've finally earned enough respect not to be given the more unfavourable shifts, so that's good.) and being completely head over heels I have...
Ice skated at NewQuay (the Docklands), which was really fun. It was my first time and I didn't fall over!! There's even video footage of my grace and poise and general goodness at being a pro ice-skater. [Thank you to all my friends who had countless birthday parties at Rollerama in Primary School. :)] I want to go again soon. I think there's an ice-rink in Oakleigh? Anyway, that was part of a spectacular evening involving impressive attire, revisited beginnings, fine food, a flower, a note, and unbeatable company.
Been doing the 1000 steps about two times a week, and playing tennis with my brother (I'm up 2-1, suck on it Mark :P), as well as with Brenton, and Ian & Luke R. Sorry for the name dropping Paul. It's in my nature. *helpless shrug* And that sums up my physical activity of late. The steps are really good. I'd recommend them to anyone, at any level of fitness. Hmm, who would I have in mind when I say that? :P (have you all thinking now don't I? haha).
I've been reading. Robin Hobb primarily, and the enthralling "The Last Man" graphic novels that Luke has been lending me. I'm hooked-er than a fish that's addicted to fishing hooks. And Robin seems like a good writer too...
I've been to Gold Class to see Juno where I enjoyed playing with the electric button reclining chairs a little too much. I ate with chopsticks, somewhat proficiently. :P I've jointly procured an investment property. I'm not saying where or what, but it's in the "pipe"-line *overthetop wink*.
I received a somewhat inspiring message from a girl from school, Sam, just yesterday. I hadn't heard from her for a long, long time - probably over a year - so it made the message all the more... significant/meaningful. We had English and Methods together at school, and she became school captain (whereas I was just a lowly prefect :P). Anyway, this is what she said:
"I know I'm slow to catch onto things, but I only just found out u swapped from commerce to writing and i am SO PROUD of u for doing so. I actually shed some tears of joy. I can't wait to read something by dale stephens, you're going to be great xox."
So yeah, that was strangely motivating and... just nice. Kind of reaffirmed some self-belief in my writing abilities that may have been lacking recently. Thanks, Sam, your chance to read something by Dale Stephens could come sooner than you think. [I might tell her about this blog :P].
That's all for now, Paul's gonna be here any second, and I've still got to admire Luke's latest text message to me for another 45 minutes, as well as scout for poor anim... I mean, scout for talent... -ed authors to read. :)
Thanks again for the comments,
Dale.
12/24/2007
none of my cousins read my blog... yet
Mark is in the driver’s seat, Dad’s next to him. Mum and I sit in the back; trying to calm Mark and negate Dad’s unintentional pressuring at the same time. We all look and smell nice. Well, I don’t know how nervous/sweaty Mark became whilst driving us there (L-plates shouting “yellow” and “watch me”, the Renault insignia screaming “I’m supposed to be driven by someone sophisticated and European… or by a man having a mid-life crisis”), but he wasn’t overly odourous later on. It’s the 23rd of December and a Sunday early evening. We pull up at the White House and de-car. Mark hands the keys to the valet…
Okay so there wasn’t actually a valet service, although that would have been really cool. And it’s not the actual White House… that would have been quite a long drive. We’re at my Aunty and Uncle’s house in Balwyn (think the next Toorak). It’s massive and grand and white, therefore I have coined it the White House. Anyway, we’re there for a Christmas dinner… two days before Christmas. Unconventional, but I’m not going to complain about getting presents early! Scored a new shaver and Will & Grace Season 4 on dvd. Not because I haven’t made a big enough deal about it already, but just because I enjoy mentioning it, my brother got a hair straightener. :) Sorry Mark, but maybe if you read this more often you’d be spared from me revealing embarrassing tidbits about your life. Wait, why am I addressing him if he doesn’t read this?? I suppose there are ways in which he can be forced to read…
To be continued.....Merry Christmas to you all. Have a great day with lots of presents and good cheer. :)
* * *
Part 2
Part 2
Since my last post Mark has now generously straightened my hair twicely, and I must say I have grown quite fond of the device. Any mockery implied previously is withdrawn immediately. So we're at my aunt and uncle's house for the Stephens side of the family Christmas shindig. In attendance are:
Long story short-ish, Lauren, Sean, Lachie & Katie are like characters straight out of the new hit show on Fox8, Gossip Girl (kinda like the OC except in New York). "So and so said this...", "I'm going to such and such to see...", "Can you believe that Celine...?!"
Pretty much you're no one until you're talked about. Mark and I just sit back listening in trying to glib information [is glib the right word?]. Occasionally the conversation will halt and we'll be asked a question. But whatever we say always magically spurns another stream of name-dropping and big talking. I'm mystified as to how they do it. Maybe I need more friends... No, they're just freaks. When I think about the amount of networking that must be necessary to keep them in their world of gossip and whatnot, I groan at the effort. Almost everyone I know complains about my lack of swiftness replying to SMSs and the like. I'd stand no chance. So I'll just sit here with my little blog, blogging away like a good little blogger, singing happy blogging songs as I type. (PS I got an ipod for Christmas. It's cool :D Although I suppose it was kind of a slowish acquisition... They've been around how long now?)
We ate salmon and chicken and potatoes and salad and Christmas Pudding and fruit mince pies and I had egg nog and it was yum! A little too yum. I found myself feeling a little extra festive for some reason... I can't quite place it. :)
I shouldn't really say all this stuff about my cousins without mentioning that I went through a period in about year 7-8 when I was really close to Lauren and I really enjoyed her and her friend Harriet (who I dated :P)'s company. And I've been going to the football with Sean with Dad and my uncle for years, and we had some good times/talks and stuff. So yeah, I like em, they're just different. But different isn't something to be afraid of or to unwarrantedly dislike.
Wrote a poem today. ...Felt like I should make it known that I am writing some things in my holidays. Story is kind of stuck again. Although I keep having ideas which is encouraging, should really write them down...
That shall do.
Happy New Years to you!
Dale.
- Cousin Lauren, 19, and her boyfriend of some time Lachie, 20.
- Cousin Sean, 17, and his leggy friend Katie, 17.
- My aunt and uncle. :P
- Mum, Dad, Mark, Me, Grandma.
- My aunt's mum, June, and June's twin sister Elaine.
Long story short-ish, Lauren, Sean, Lachie & Katie are like characters straight out of the new hit show on Fox8, Gossip Girl (kinda like the OC except in New York). "So and so said this...", "I'm going to such and such to see
Pretty much you're no one until you're talked about. Mark and I just sit back listening in trying to glib information [is glib the right word?]. Occasionally the conversation will halt and we'll be asked a question. But whatever we say always magically spurns another stream of name-dropping and big talking. I'm mystified as to how they do it. Maybe I need more friends... No, they're just freaks. When I think about the amount of networking that must be necessary to keep them in their world of gossip and whatnot, I groan at the effort. Almost everyone I know complains about my lack of swiftness replying to SMSs and the like. I'd stand no chance. So I'll just sit here with my little blog, blogging away like a good little blogger, singing happy blogging songs as I type. (PS I got an ipod for Christmas. It's cool :D Although I suppose it was kind of a slowish acquisition... They've been around how long now?)
We ate salmon and chicken and potatoes and salad and Christmas Pudding and fruit mince pies and I had egg nog and it was yum! A little too yum. I found myself feeling a little extra festive for some reason... I can't quite place it. :)
I shouldn't really say all this stuff about my cousins without mentioning that I went through a period in about year 7-8 when I was really close to Lauren and I really enjoyed her and her friend Harriet (who I dated :P)'s company. And I've been going to the football with Sean with Dad and my uncle for years, and we had some good times/talks and stuff. So yeah, I like em, they're just different. But different isn't something to be afraid of or to unwarrantedly dislike.
Wrote a poem today. ...Felt like I should make it known that I am writing some things in my holidays. Story is kind of stuck again. Although I keep having ideas which is encouraging, should really write them down...
That shall do.
Happy New Years to you!
Dale.
12/12/2007
Confrontation
There we were, Brenton and I, in the leafy, ferny, creek-y, mountainous Dandenongs. We'd reached the top of the 1000 steps and wandered along Tyson's Track. Through the unsettling sap-bleeding trees is a spectacular view that stretches further than any elastic band ever could. Water bottles in hand, and air once again in our lungs, we were almost back at the summit of the arduous steps (which seem a lot less evil on the way down), ready to descend.
"Is that a kookaburra?"
A small brown bird-looking creature was standing motionless in the middle of the path ahead of us. Little did we know, it would be the most fearsome kookaburra that ever lived. As we approached it, getting closer and closer, it didn't move an inch. It just stood there staring us down. We stopped about 3 or 4 metres from it. A stand-off of epic proportions ensued, a la Gandalf's "You shall not pass!", the kookaburra being Gandalf. In an act of sheer courage, I threw my water bottle just next to it, hoping it would fly away. The Gandalfburra didn't blink an eye. Resilient, fearless, it continued to block our path. Brenton, realising that my water bottle was now probably lost for all eternity, tried splashing it with the water from his. His efforts, too, were futile. We were beginning to lose hope. Turning back was not an option, we had travelled too far on weary legs.
Somehow, heroically, Brenton scooted past (thanks largely I think to a diversion created by me). He retrieved a dead branch from the ground and used it to roll my water bottle towards him. Then I mustered up the courage to confront the gallant bird-wizard and in a mental power-struggle/battle involving concentration and squinting, I passed through the forcefield and onto the other side.
But in all seriousness, we became quite worried for the poor bird. It was clearly in a severe case of shock, and looked as if it were quite young. I wasn't sure if it was blind, couldn't fly, or had been abandoned by its mother or something. There really wasn't much we could do for it though. At least it got some water when Brenton splashed it. I hoped that the wrong kind of people wouldn't come across it and well... You can imagine the rest. It was just such an odd sight/experience. We looked back at little Gandalf as we walked away, but it didn't move whilst it was within our sight.
Dale.
"Is that a kookaburra?"
A small brown bird-looking creature was standing motionless in the middle of the path ahead of us. Little did we know, it would be the most fearsome kookaburra that ever lived. As we approached it, getting closer and closer, it didn't move an inch. It just stood there staring us down. We stopped about 3 or 4 metres from it. A stand-off of epic proportions ensued, a la Gandalf's "You shall not pass!", the kookaburra being Gandalf. In an act of sheer courage, I threw my water bottle just next to it, hoping it would fly away. The Gandalfburra didn't blink an eye. Resilient, fearless, it continued to block our path. Brenton, realising that my water bottle was now probably lost for all eternity, tried splashing it with the water from his. His efforts, too, were futile. We were beginning to lose hope. Turning back was not an option, we had travelled too far on weary legs.
Somehow, heroically, Brenton scooted past (thanks largely I think to a diversion created by me). He retrieved a dead branch from the ground and used it to roll my water bottle towards him. Then I mustered up the courage to confront the gallant bird-wizard and in a mental power-struggle/battle involving concentration and squinting, I passed through the forcefield and onto the other side.
But in all seriousness, we became quite worried for the poor bird. It was clearly in a severe case of shock, and looked as if it were quite young. I wasn't sure if it was blind, couldn't fly, or had been abandoned by its mother or something. There really wasn't much we could do for it though. At least it got some water when Brenton splashed it. I hoped that the wrong kind of people wouldn't come across it and well... You can imagine the rest. It was just such an odd sight/experience. We looked back at little Gandalf as we walked away, but it didn't move whilst it was within our sight.
Dale.
12/07/2007
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