Saturday, February 28, 2015

37000 Views + A "Blooper"

Thank you so much for the views! I'd write a longer thank you, yet I have to go be productive and do work, tragically.
As a thank you, here's a little "blooper":


xx,
Jill

10.10: The Day After



   "He proposed to my mom with paintings... She always loved art, I remember, as a child, she'd paint these landscapes to hang in clients' offices, living rooms, they owned an interior design firm together." He nodded solemnly, sitting next to me, listening to stories I had told him when we'd dated nine years ago... Nine years ago I'd been a naive teenager, excited about the world, eager to explore, eager to time travel. Now, I only had an intense sentiment towards time travel. I needed to, wanted to. Daddy supported me, knew I could, I was obliged to, I simply must.
   He'd driven straight six hours for me, as I cried, mourned, and rambled on in the rental car, a cherry red, eco-friendly hybrid. The rain had ceased twenty minutes into the driving. I'd dozed off to the soft jazz on the radio, waking up every so often to see him humming, staring at the road. I wanted to ask him about his past, about his present, but hadn't mustered up the courage to. I didn't want to have to move forward, I wanted to stay in the blissful ignorance, for I was surrounded by solemn pain, this was serene; I could pretend we were teenagers, on that road trip of self discovery everyone says they'll take the summer after they graduate.
   "I'm sorry."
   "Why?" He asked, looking into my eyes, perplexed.
   "For being a naive teenager who only cared about her geeky passions and didn't bother getting to know you. For, after having not seen you in years, asking you drive me to my row house. For not offering you a beverage when we walked into here. For not asking you how you were. I haven't offered you breakfast, you had to sleep on the sofa... You probably had a hotel booked and it was probably nonrefundable... I'm sorry."
   "Ryelynn, don't apologize. We were teenagers; I... Mistakes we made then don't matter now. And you're grieving, don't feel obligated to play hostess, if I hadn't been willing to drive you wherever you needed to go, I wouldn't have offered to take you anywhere."
   "Are you hungry? I asked, standing up. When we'd arrived here, I'd collapsed in tears on my bed, lulling myself into a dreamless sleep, a dreamless escape, he'd covered me up with a quilt, removed my shoes, then settled onto the sofa in the living room. It was the day after the funeral, I was unraveled, sitting next to the man in wrinkled clothes who I use to love, the man who didn't question anything when I said I lived in San Fransisco.
   "Don't worry about what I need, what do you need?"


   "To be held..." I said, sitting down, moving closer to him, as he wrapped his arm around me, kissing the top of my head. "Do you think, when I'm old and wrinkled, I'll have a spouse who loves me like mother loves daddy? Do you think people will cry at my funeral?"
   "Ryelynn..."
   "I know it's morbid, I just... I don't have friends, I made some in college, but we parted ways, I've had boyfriends, really more flings, I felt confident, self assured, but now, I'm pondering everything..."
   "I don't know what to tell you, other than... I know that your siblings will be in tears, that your nieces and nephews will be, that your colleagues will be. I know I'll be weeping, heart broken. I don't think I want to live in a world where I know Ryelynn Janes isn't around."
   "You... You don't? You'd be heart broken?"
   "You have this passion, this insanity, this intelligence... You're indescriabalbe and Rye, the world will weep when you're gone and if they don't realize how magnificent you are, well I'll be weeping for them."
   "How-w... How do I reply?" He was the magnificent one, he was the insanely intelligent one, he was the one the world would weep for. Silence filled the room, as we rest in each others arms, savoring the peace.
   "I live in New Jersey." He simply uttered, at the say time I said:
   "Do you believe love can lay dormant, you not knowing it's there and then one day, it reappears?" I bit my lip, my cheeks flushed. "Like herpes?" I quickly added, hoping to spoil the moment, for we clearly weren't having a romcom incident, old acquaintances, that's what we are.
   "Well, I suppose. I'm no loved expert, though I'm also no herpes expert, but I believe it can. I believe love is what we want it to be."
   "I know what I want it to be."
   "Your grief is speaking."



   "Is it?" I asked, titling my head, moving closer to him, my lips touching his, as the pain and grief melded into passion, forgiveness, making up lost time with each kiss. "And here I thought it was kissing."
  "You-" RING! RING! His phone began ringing, interrupting. "Unknown number." He said, answering it. "Hello, Vance Kap- Chester, hi. Yes, she's with me. She's fine. Okay, I- I'm sorry, she was- okay. Yes, here she is." He handed me the phone, shrugging.
   "What the hell, Ryelynn?"


   "Hello Chester, great greeting you've got there." I said, sarcastically, standing up, pacing around the living room.
   "You can't just leave, not telling anyone! We were scared you were going to do something reckless, we were ready to call the police, report you as missing."
   "I'm fine. I'm sorry, I just had to get away... I'm at home."
   "Rye, I'm sorry, I just... Mom, Rem, Had are all worried and Felix and I are pissed. If Zander hadn't realized Vance was gone and given me his number, we wouldn't have known how to contact you, we found your phone at the funeral home... Please, just, I don't know."
   "I didn't mean to worry you, I just... I had to get away... Vance, being wonderful...  Hey, I'll call you back, okay?"
   "Rye, wait I-" I hung up, tossing the phone onto the coffee table.
   "You shouldn't have hung up; he's your brother, he's just concerned."
   "I love you." I stood in front of him, I was going to say 'I suppose I could call him back', but instead I professed my love to him. Well, then...
   "Pardon?"
   "I love you. I don't care if it's unrequited, well I do, but I just wanted to say that. I've gotten over you, now I've regressed; I'm into you. Don't say my grief's talking, please, just..."
   "Do this?" He asked, standing up, placing his hands on my hips, lifting me into the air. "You do not know how many nights I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering what would have happened if I hadn't broken up with you."


   "I love you... My life's insane; what's happening?" I asked, smiling, shaking my head.
   "I was going to go with us professing our mutual love for one another, though, I mean it seems kind of like an emotionally charged, crass time... I suppose that's we're... No idea."
   "Are we getting back together?"
   "I don't know." He said, putting me back onto the ground. "I really don't know, I mean either that or we're going to, pardon the crudeness, hookup, maybe you'll have a breakdown about your father, I'll comfort you..."
   "We're a bad romcom in the making, from the dramatic reunion to the me thinking that... Damn are we a stereotype? Two high educated people who just can't catch a break when it comes to love."
   "Speaking of love, the Guild's got another season up on Netflix."
   "Finally; I hate watching three minute clips, it gives me anxiety wondering what'll happen to them. I'll make popcorn."
   And with that, we ignored the outside world, ignored the past, ignored the grief, ignored the logically sequence of events, ignored whatever this was, while eating microwave popcorn, curled up in each others arms and fuzzy Matt Smith plush blankets, watching Codex talk to her camera, her video diary.

Saturday, February 21, 2015

10.11: "TIME MACHINE"

   "When are you going back to New Jersey?" I asked, sleepily. It had been three weeks since my father's… Since the incident; I still became over wrought, I still broke down into tears when I thought about it, I couldn't call it what it was, I had to refer to it as the incident. Vance was still here, comforting me. I had taken a brief leave of absence from work so I could cope, so I could grieve. Vance and I had watched movies, read comic books, reminisced about high school, I had worked on my robotics and the time travel device a bit; I'd been working hard for soling so I could earn my doctorate, now that I had I could finally take a step back and relax.
   "I don't know... I only have so many vacation and sick days; soon I'll have to…"
   "I don't want you to." I whispered, shivering slightly. I was lying beneath the polka dot covers, bare, as he, in only his black tube socks, lie next to me, holding me. 
   "Are you cold?" He asked, concerned.
   "I… I, no... I'm sleepy."
   "You were rather, ehem, wild." He chuckled. 
   "You're good." I murmured. For the second time in the history of our relationship, we'd done it; we'd kissed, cuddled an innumerable amount during the three weeks, yet this was the first time we'd taken things further, I suppose both of us wanted to ensure that we had a rational mindset that we'd be prepared to deal with the consequences. I'm certainly glad that we did; I wasn't over come with a dreadful feeling that I'd unearthed a wretched monster, I was feeling sleepy bliss, thinking about how sex with him was considerably better on a bed then it was in a wardrobe.
   I felt myself drifting off into sleep, peaceful.

______________________

   My eyes fluttered open, as light streamed through the window, blinding me. Vance was still holding me, as I wiggled out from underneath the covers and his arm. "Errrmmm." He groaned, as I stood, shivering. I threw on the first scrap of fabric I grabbed from my wardrobe, which happened to be a nautical themed beach cover up.


   "What to do..." I whispered, still half asleep. I didn't want to wake him up, he looked so peaceful, sleeping underneath the peach polka dot covers.


   I moved towards the balcony, where I kept my robotics worktable and white board. I was attempting to calculate how I could enable the metal structure I built to be turned into a time machine.


    "If I move... The frequency, no, it wouldn't, maybe..." I paused, glancing at the bored. I needed caffeine in order for this to make sense, however I had no desire to go and brew some coffee.


   I put down the dry eraser marker and moved toward the work station, picking up a Flathead screw driver. Perhaps if I tinkered with these metals, fashioned a controller of sorts, it would work? I tinkered, screwing together scraps. Better materials were at the lab, this was really just a side project, an unsophisticated thing I muddled with during my time off, a distraction, if you will. I completed the mechanic, pushing the white board out of the way.


  "It didn't work..." I sighed, after attaching the pieces of metal, jabbing the thing with my foot. I wasn't sure what I expected; a robotic female voice to ask me which day, which time period, I wished to travel through, maybe? "When I get back to work, I'll ask Dr. Evves; she might be able to assist me." I turned, accidentally bumping the side.



   "Oh my gods!" I shouted, as electricity crackled, blue light filling the machine, as I backed away. The machine made a whirring sound, like a propeller, attached to an areo plane that was preparing to to take off.


   "Futuristic... Damn!" The light burst up, towards the sky, burning a hole hole through the third floor balcony, through the roof. The light was vibrant, as the whirring noise's volume increased to a deafening level. "I have to get Vance." I shouted, over the noise. I turned, running to Vance, shaking him awake.
   "Errrg. Rye, what's going on?" He screamed, his eyelids flying open. "Is that an earthquake siren?" The only way for me to understand him over the noise was to read his lips. He sat up, reaching for his glasses, sliding them onto his face.
   "I did it!" I shouted, my throat feeling sore.
   "Huh?! I can't hear you!" I took his hand, pulling him out of bed. He put on the clothes he'd bought from a beach shop, a tank top, swim shorts, as I pulled him outside. I took a marker and wrote "TIME MACHINE" on the white board, as his widened, looking like a cartoon character's. "Unholy, Satan worshiping unicorns!"
   "Great time for a TV show reference." I said, as the whirring's volume decreased to a faint hum.
   "When are Attack of Flog references not applicable?"
   "Never." I teased. "What do we... I mean, I... Gahajfdadfslk! Time machine!"
   "I can't believe... I can, though, I mean, it's you, Ryelynn Janes; I knew you could... Do we call someone? Or do we, what do we do?"
   "We could test it out, travel to the future, just for a few minutes, I mean. I'd hate to get everyone worked up over a faulty time machine."
   "Those are the worst."
   "Hey!"


   "Sorry." He smirked, taking my hands, spinning me around, kissing me. "Ryelynn, you decide, it's your discovery, I'll support you, no matter what."
   "Vance Kapaldi..." I inhaled, unsure of what to say next. This was the biggest moment of my life, the biggest moment of my career, this could be an award winning, mind shatteringly important break through in the field; the scientific community would go insane. "Will you travel through time with me?"
   "I'll travel anywhere with you... Except Peru; I heard that the policeman and that the society in general there are rather corrupt and they aren't fond of dark skinned people."
   "I'll make sure to keep that those two stereotypes that might be offensive to Peruvians in mind as we travel through time... Maybe even space."
   "So, we're doing it?"


   "We're doing it." I squeezed his hand, as I stepped forward, into the machine. Vance followed me, as  "Future here we come!" I shrieked, as I felt a shock, a burst of energy shaking my cells. There was no looking back now.

10.9 Part One: Gone... Gone? Gone!


   "Lovely loft on the third floor. Now, what do you think? It's a spacious row home, perfect for the young individual who is busy, yet still has a social life and loves throwing gatherings, with plenty of spare room for when the time comes when you want a family."
   "It's quite lovely, thank you." I said, hesitantly smiling. "But honestly, I don't need anything this spacious; see, I'm working on my PhD at Stanford and simply need a nice place to rent that is close to the laboratory where I work part time and allows me to work on mechanics."
   "Ah, see, there's a quaint yard space near the front, perfect for that science thing."
   "Thank you, but honestly, it's a bit above my budget; three floors and all."
   "I'm sure I can negotiate with the landlord. Best investment you'll make; real estate is in a wonderful place, you don't even need twenty percent down. Besides, head the Golden Gate Bridge, near the San Fransisco hotspots, in a few years when you're looking to sell you'll probably have people dying to live here and make a nice profit."


    "Ah." I said, gritting my teeth. I had gone from realtor to realtor, Mabel to find one who comprehend that I didn't wish to spend a fortune, I just needed a place for two years, then I'd have my doctorate and be able to head back to LA; San Fransisco was temporary. Furthermore, not to sound too proud, but, having scored in the ninety-eighth percentile of my GREs and in the ninety-fifth percentile on the ACTs, I'd concluded that my IQ might be a smidge above average; they couldn't use synonyms with better connotations to convince me that I had to put in an offer for whatever place they were desperate to sell. "Well, Thank you for showing me, I'll consider it, I've got a class in half an hour and simply must go."
   "Here's my card." She said, handing me a fifth business card. "If you're interested, be sure to call quickly; another lady's expressed interest and she seemed very adamant."
   "I'll keep that in mind."

________________

   "Awnt-wee Why-win! Hehe, yous can heaw mwe?" Jack, Remy and Zander's two year old toddler giggled, struggling to say Auntie Ryelynn.
   "I can!" I exclaimed into the phone, smiling. "Can you hear me?"
   "Yeahs. Mommy gaves mwe uh phones! Guessy whaty!"


   "What?" I asked, placing the phone on my lap, on speakerphone, while sitting on the third floor's balcony railing, staring out at the skyline. The realtor had, despite my determination to not buy anything, to buy the row home; perhaps it was the crown molding, perhaps it was the hot neighbor, perhaps it was the fact that a Nobel prize laureate use to live here, either way, I know owned a surplus of rooms.
   "Guess." I heard another toddler, Jillian, who was now four, shout into the phone.
   "Hm... The sky is purple?"
   "No, swilly, it blue." Jack giggled. "Daddy say you gonna be docta! Docta should know cowows."
   "I should know my colors." I agreed. "Now, what was I trying to guess?"
   "Looksies outswides."
   "Okay." I said, glancing from the skyline, to the ground, to see a frazzled blonde, two giddy toddlers, and a father, bogged down with luggage.


   "See wus? Supwise!"
   "Jack, can I talk to mommy?"
   "Hehe."
   "Jack?"
   "Yeahs." I heard some scuffling, then, from what it looked like outside, Remy was now holding the phone. I had lots of work to do, soon I'd have to submit my dissertation, I was almost finished with my doctorate, soon I'd be Dr. Ryelynn Janes, not Miss. Ryelynn Janes; I didn't need any distractions.
   "Ryelynn, I'm so sorry, I just, please, I..."
   "What?" She sounded urgent, I stood up, rushing to the stairwell, practically flinging myself down it so I could reach the front door.
   "It's dad."
   "Remy?" I asked, flinging open the front door, to see her tearing up, clutching her cell phone, as the toddlers hung onto her leg. "Remy, what do you mean it's dad? He's okay, right? He has to be, we're going to a LOTR convention next month. He's only seventy-two. He's healthy. Remy, Remy, why are you crying? Remy, please stop."
   "Mama?" Jack asked, as Zander hugged her.
   "I'm sorry." My brother-in-law said. "We thought it'd be best to tell you in person, considering how close you two were."


   "Were? No, Zander, are, are. There has to be some, some, I don't know. Issue. Problem. A mistake; that's what it is."
   "Ryelynn." Remy said, looking at me with wide eyes."I'm sorry. It's a mistake."
   "Why... Why wasn't I called when he started deteriorating?" I murmured, staggering backwards. Gone. Daddy. Gone. I'd never get to say goodbye, hug him again, get to thank him for supporting him. He believed in time travel. He didn't think it was foolish; I was working on the mathematical theorems, time travel was theoretically probable. He knew that. He did. He supported me. He couldn't be gone.
   "It was sudden. Peaceful, unexpected, but peaceful."
   "No... No, Remy, please, tell me you're lying. Please, tell me I'm dreaming. Dad- he can't... Gone? Daddy?"
   "SCD. Sudden cardiac death. No one could have know, Rye, he was healthy, it just... Happened."
   "Daddy... Gone?" Them came in, Zander helping me to the sofa, as I stared into space. It couldn't be. Seventy-two. He wasn't that old. He had at least five more, ten more years. He couldn't be... Gone... Gone? Gone! The word kept replaying in my mind, until it lost all meaning. First a G, then an O, then an N, and lastly an E... Gone.

Sunday, February 15, 2015

10.9 Part Two: No Other Way To Rest



   "I was the new girl in town, I'd lived in the same small island town my whole life then, struck by tragedy, I moved to California with Delilah Alice Rosewood-Janes, bless her, we lost her last year, who took me in, helped me raise my brother Anderson, who is in Florida with his wife Elliot... Elle, she likes to go by, their children Coral, Richard, Tiana. Xavier, I remember when we first met..." Mom smiled, reminiscing about her life as a scared twenty-something, watching Uncle Anderson grow up, as daddy helped her realize who she was, helped her feel like she belonged, helped her process and finally release her grief. "I just... My husband for thirty-seven years, we raised five children together... I've always loved him, I will never stop loving him. Thank you. Now, my daughter, Dr. Ryelynn Janes will say a few words." I wiped away a few tears, feeling odd being called doctor by my mother. I'd earned my degree a few days before the funeral... Daddy would never see his little girl as a doctor.


   She was sixty-two, yet looked older, frailer, like she'd aged a decade. We all looked rougher around the edges; we'd been to funerals before, grandma, grandpa's, Aunt Delilah, yet we'd never really known them well, we'd met them, but we weren't bonded to them like we were to daddy.


   "I don't know what to say. I've never spoken at a funeral before... I didn't, I never, I just..." I glanced down, wiping at my eyes, thankful I hadn't worn makeup. I looked up, my face red, puffy. "He was a great man. Caring, helpful, passionate. He inspired my love of the geek subculture, Doctor Who, Lord of the Rings, Star Wars, Star Trek, Issac Asimov. When I went to my first comic-con with him, I was ecstatic; I'd been saving for months, I wanted to buy an Avengers action figure, it was signed by Joss Whedon, yet I was thirty-eight dollars away and I was devastated... He bought it for me, gave it to me later, just because. I woke up one day, saw it sitting on my night stand, with a note. 'Surprise, Ryie!' it said. He called me Ryie... Not often, but, he did. And there was a music box... He will always be remembered, he will always be loved. Thank you."

________________

   "That was a beautiful service." I heard a voice say. I was staring at his grave, everyone else, mom, Felix, Marianna, their twins Harrison and Tilly, , Chester, Remy, Zander, Jack, Jillian, Hadley, her fiance Eli Franco, friends, coworkers had parted once the rain had started pouring, dripping, slipping down from the clouds... A rarity in LA, suitable for the occasion.
   "Pardon?" I asked, having no desire to listen to someone offer their condolences."
   "He'll rest in peace."
   "No other way to rest." I mumbled, suddenly, irrationally hating black fabric. It absorbed all color; it was a void, depressing.
   "You always were logical. I loved that about you."


   "Loved?" I whispered, feeling vulnerable. I slowly turned my head, wiping away the rain and tears from my face, looking at the ebony black dress shoes, to the crisp, ironed slacks, to the pressed gray dress shirt, the suit jacket... The face of a man I hadn't see since forever ago about the collar, hidden beneath thick rimmed glass and a mob of black hair. "Vance." The syllable slipped past my lips liked silk, as he stood there, soaking wet.
   "I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't be here... My brother's father-in-law, a shirttail relative, I suppose, but I don't... I, when we, he was a great man. I wanted to pay my respects."
   "I didn't- I'm not being accusatory... He still is a great man."
   "He'll always be."
   "Vance..."
   "Ryelynn..." Hushed tones began conversing in the graveyard, as he stepped closer. "It's pouring rain and freezing. You'll catch a cold."
   "That's a myth... You're a doctor. You know that."
   "Do I? I don't know... I thought daddy would still be here. I thought I knew that he'd see me earn my doctorate, be there to go to the film festival, see my new home, I... Him there. He'd be there and now he's gone. Gone..."
   "Everyone's gathering at your mom's... Your parent's home. Do you want me to take you there? I rented a car."
   "No... I can't. The past few weeks, the sadness. Pain. Not more of it."


   "Where do you want to go?" And do you want to go there with me? The unasked question hung in the air, as he lingered by my side.
   "Home."
   "Home? Where do you live? I'll drive you; you're not in a proper state to."
   "San Fransisco..." I glanced at my feet. I'd flown from San Francisco International Airport to LAX, a two hour flight, I had another booked two days from now... Six hours to drive. no sane person would say what he did.
   "I'll pull the car around."  

Sunday, February 8, 2015

10.8: Ryelynn's Family




   "Can you say Uncle Felix?"
   "Or Auntie Marianna?" Felix, who was thirty-one, running a successful automotive repair shop,was engaged to Marianna Calypso, a kindergarten teacher, who he met through her ex-boyfriend, Deacon. Apparently Deacon had cheated on her, so she'd slashed his BMW's front tires and carved 'Don't cheat xo, your ex-girlfriend p.s. I'm breaking up with you' onto the hood, consequently he took the car to Felix to fix the paint job. We'd questioned Marianna's sanity at first, but soon realized that she was actually a very sweet woman.
   "Oo! Can you say Shattered Chicago?" Chester cooed, smiling. His band, which relocated to the Windy City after he'd snagged a modeling gig with Hollister three years ago, when he was twenty-five, were aptly renamed Shattered Chicago and since had become fairly popular, especially after Starlight, a gossip show that had lasted a surprisingly lengthy time, featured the band, dubbing them "The Hollister Hottie and Co.". 


   "Guys!" Remy, aka Ms. Kapaldi, exclaimed, crossing her arms on top of her bulging belly. "We want Jillian's first words to be mommy."
   "Or daddy." Zander added. My sister's husband, and ex-boyfriend's brother, had welcomed their first child, Jillian Phoebe Kapaldi, after four years of marriage, now, two years later, they were expecting baby number two.
   "Or mommy." Remy replied, as everyone stood in our parent's living room, fascinated with our first niece.
   "Everyone, shh!" Dad said, hobbling into the room. "I think I hear Phoebe at the door." 
   "Hadley texted me that they were driving back from the spa." I whispered. I had earned my bachelor’s in physics with a minor in robotic engineering from UCLA, had also recently completed my master’s in physics, and turned twenty-four; now I was anxiously waiting to here from other schools and see where I would end up earning my Ph.D.
   We turned off the lights, quietly waiting for them to enter the house. It was mom's sixtieth birthday and, as I surprise, dad had arranged for everyone to fly or drive back home. Remy, Felix, and I were in town, so it wouldn't be a huge surprise that we were her, however Chester, with had very little time to see family, with his band and modeling, and Hadley, who was twenty-five, living in NYC, trying to break her way into the modeling field by dropping Chester's name, and had been assigned to keeping mom busy, were the Crown Jewels of the plan.
   "Surprise!" Shouted when Hadley, followed by mom, who gasped in utterly joyful shock.

   "Chester- You! Everyone!" She began tearing up, as dad held her hands, gazing into her eyes.
   "It's your birthday, mom; I couldn't miss that." He said, hugging her tightly.
   "I have the best family; I love you all." She replied, as Hadley made odd gestures.
   "What are you doing?" I whispered to her.
   "Come with me." I followed her out of the living room, to the kitchen.
   "What's going on?" I asked, befuddled.
   "Ya know how I was gonna get that modeling gig?"

   "Yeah..." I lied, having no idea what she was talking about. She had mellowed with age and was less, for lack of a better term, bitchy, however we still weren't on a daily, or even weekly, phone call basis.
   "Well, they refused to hire me! Outrageous right?"
   "I suppose. Did they give you a reason?"
   "Ya know how I use to bribe people in high school?" She murmured, glancing at her feet. "Some of them appeared online when they tried doing a background check or whatever. They said they didn't want someone who did stuff like that representing them."
   "I'm sorry, Had."
   "I just... And then they said my outfits and dyed eyebrows made me look like a slutty, knock off version of Cara Delevingne!"
   "That's horrid!" I exclaimed, unsure of who the Ms. Cara person was.
   "I just... I dunno. I'm running short on cash and..."
   "I don't know what to tell you; though, right now, it's mom's party, we really should be out there, focusing on her, okay? Maybe I can lend you some money or something."

   "Thanks, Ryelynn." She beamed. "I... I'm sorry for being such a bitch as a kid to you."
   "Thank you for apologizing. Now let's go back to the living room." We walked back to the living room, as dad, who was holding a glass of wine, was in the middle of his toast.
   "I have spent so many marvelous years with her, each year I fall deeper into love with her, in a way I didn't know was possible. To many more years." Everyone clinked their glasses, Felix, Chester, mom, Zander, and dad's filled with wine, Remy's with vitamin water. Everyone took a sip of their beverage, except for Marianna, who nervously glanced at Felix.
   "It's okay if you don't drink, honey." Mom said to her, presuming that was what the nervous glance meant. "Don't feel pressured."
   "Marianna and I- er, uh... We, um, we have an announcement to make." Felix said, blushing. "We, uh, we found out last week and we didn't want to steal the focus from you, mom and we thought, maybe, well we got engaged seven months ago, but we didn't want you to think-"


   "I, we, me, well, I'm pregnant!" She smiled, as Felix kissed her cheek. "We planned the wedding to be five months from now, but considering that then I won't be able to fit into my dress,we've moved it up to next month."
   "Ah! Jillian, you'll have a new sibling and a cousin!" Remy squealed. "This wonderful."
   "Congratulations." Mom beamed. "Three grandchildren! This is a wonderful birthday present."
   Everyone congratulated them, toasted to the fetus' health, as we sat, telling stories of our mundane lives. We may not be a close knit family who sees each other every week or day, however we did cherish the moments we spent together; I love my family, mom, dad, Remy, Zander, Jillian, their baby, Chester, Hadley, Felix, Marianna, their fetus, Uncle Anderson and his wife, Aunt Ellis, Delilah, all of them.

Saturday, February 7, 2015

Bit of Boring Six: Anderson Janes

NOTE: This BoB's about Anderson Janes, Phoebe Janes's brother from generation nine. You don't really need to skim any chapters, unless you really, really want to.
 
  "How's the project going?" Ellis Vanderbilt asked, peering over my shoulder as I crouched over the desk in the cramped office, analyzing the data I'd collected over the course of a few weeks. I was working part time at the university's research facility to help pay for my marine biology undergrad degree.
   "Good..." I paused, glancing at her shiny, auburn hair, as it cascaded over my shoulder, blocking my view of the paper. It smelled like hazelnuts and had ocean- not in an unpleasant, fish, salt, and pollution smell, but in a clean, crisp way. "There's just this one flaw. The rate goes from seventy-eight per meter to two hundred-nine per meter in this one patch of coral."
   "Have you analyzed a sample of the coral?" She asked, even though I knew she knew what my reply would be. I was the newbie, having only been there for a little under a semester- I started at the beginning of my fourth semester- and she, now senior research assistant, had been there since her sophomore year; she was a few weeks away from graduating with the same degree I was perusing.
   "Yeah, I sent a diver. There's an odd amount of," I began rambling about the specifications, as she nodded, smiling. Once I finished, she gazed off towards the data, as if she was trying to think of an intellectual, coherent reply.
   "Sucks." She laughed, a wide smile crossing her face.
   "I'm hoping to work it out before the professor comes."
   "You will, don't worry. You've been here all night." She turned to leave, then, slightly turning her head, stopped. "Wanna grab something?"
   "Something?" We'd asked each other to grab something's before and they varied from coffees to deep sea diving suits to textbooks and a study session.
   "Food." She blushed. "I think we need to talk."
   "I... Sure. Now? I mean I can." I stood up, glancing at my phone. It was four am; not many places with editable food that were within walking distance of the campus- forget trying to be driven somewhere- would be open, even in LA.
   "I ordered a pizza, they said they'd deliver it within ten minutes, that was fifteen minutes ago, so it's here. Maybe we could go to Dr. Hancolff's office, eat on actually comfortable surfaces?"
   "He hates people going in his office."
   "Only cause they mess up his concentration, but he's not here, besides I'm his assistant, I have a reason to be there. C'mon." She took my hand, pulling me out of the tiny office to a large, studious office, where a steaming pizza sat on a side table.
  "Smells good." I commented, as I grabbed a slice. "What's up, Elle?"
  "I'm graduating soon and... I mean, you're smart, right? Er, you are. Dr. Hancolff's gonna need a new assistant and I thought if you were interested, maybe I could put in a good word for you? He's wrapped around my finer, if I mention you you'll probably end up getting it." I glanced at her, obviously incorrectly, because she quickly added: "I'm not sleeping with him!"
   "I didn't think you were and even if you were, it isn't any of my business."
   "I just, yeah, I mean I got accused of sleeping my way into he position, and I'm not some slut, I work hard, ya know?"
   "I know you do." I took her hand, leaving forward. Elle, she let me call her Elle, instead of Ellis or Ms. Vanderbilt, was pretty. Actually, she was more than pretty, with her glasses, freckles, and lopsided smile she was beautiful. It wasn't odd admitting it, either, it was a commonly acknowledged fact- she was attractive, intelligent, and charismatic, the trifecta of characteristics that earned her the beautiful title. "Thank you for offering, but wouldn't it be unfair to the other candidates?"
   "Anderson, you've accomplished more than some of the people in the doctoral program, I wanted it to be recognized."
   "I have?" I asked; I knew that I had pulled my weight, done my grunt work in order to be able to work on real projects, but I hadn't realized how much I'd done.
   "Yes, you idiot, you have." She smiled, poking my thigh. I closed the pizza box, pushing it aside, since both of us appeared to eat our share of the greasy, cheesy deliciousness. "That's all... If you want to go to your dorm, I can finish your paper, I'm avoiding my roommate or we could stay."
   "What's with the roommate?" I asked curiously, as she shrugged, mumbling something about some program. "Tell me." We both frequently stayed late at the office, I loved our late night chats and meals, each time we switched who bought the food. 
   "Can't make me." She stuck her tongue out, slyly grinning.
   "I care. I wanna help."
   "God, you're such a good friend." Friend. I hadn't not wanted to be her friend, however it would be a lie to say that I didn't contemplate more than once asking her out to have an official something or an official three am meal that actually counted as a date.
   "If you won't tell me, I know what I'll do."
   "What?" Curiosity filled her eyes, as I rubbed my hands together, to build suspense.
   "Propose we play truth or dare." We frequently played childhood games to occupy ourselves, the research labs and offices grew quiet and boring, but tic tac toe, tag, or another equally simple activity kept nights from growing tedious.
   "Fine. Truth or dare?"
   "Truth."
   "Have you ever cheated in school?"
   "Nope."
   "Never?"
   "Never ever. Truth or dare?"
   "Truth. But not the roommate thing."
   "That's the point of playing, but fine. Most embarrassing thing to happen to you?"
   "God, no. Umm... In high school, I was skinny, like you could see my rib cage, and I ate tons trying to gain weight, since people called my anorexic freak and skeleton girl and I hated it. Nothing was wrong with me, I went to the doctor, my metabolism was just fast. So one day, I was binging strawberry almond tarts, then I had to go do an assembly at school were I got some science award thing."
   "People are cruel and stupid."
   "Well they got stupider and crueler when I ended up puking up five tarts; I haven't binged since, but I also haven't been able to talk to my ex-classmates again."
   "I'm sorry." 
   "It's the past, so ha suck it up and move on, what can I say? Truth or dare."
   "Dare."
   "Do something you've been thinking doing, but haven't cause you're scared."
   "Really?"
   "Really." And then I leaned forward, my lips colliding with hers as I kissed her.

10.7: The Third Year at UCLA

   "Well that issue was rubbish."
   "They cannot all be number twenty-six." I teased, as Elliot tossed the comic aside.
   "Ask anyone who reads them, they'll confirm that that particular one is, in fact, the most ground breaking, monumental issue."


   "God, you're wonderful... Other than your button-up, I'm bare and you were reading a comic book."
   "I was waiting for you to wake up. Staring at you seemed rather creepy."
   "We actually did this..." I trailed off, sitting up so I was staring into his eyes. It was finals week at UCLA, I was a junior studying physics, Elliot was a senior, freaking out because he was about to graduate. We'd studied together, ate lunch together occasionally on campus, yet we'd never actually gotten together, in an intimate way. We were at the comic book store, drinking cheap beers to celebrate some geek's twenty-first birthday, we began chatting, then one thing lead to another and we were heading back to his frat house, making out, falling onto his bed in a drunk enough to not think about the consequences, yet sober enough to be two consenting adults.
   "We did..."
   "I don't want to have to talk about the aftermath."
   "Nor do I." The words 'but we have to' hung in the air, unsaid, yet what we were both thinking.
   "This doesn't make us a couple." I simply said. "Sex is something human's have a biological predisposition-"


   "Exactly. Besides, we couldn't, even if we wished to."
   "We couldn't?" I asked, befuddled. "Because..."
   "Ryelynn, I got excepted into MIT."
   "Ohmygawsh! Congratulations; that was your number one for grad school." I had felt a connection to him, yet it seemed platonic. I didn't feel any particular urge to date him, marry him, have us create children together, even though we'd just, as a layman would describe the act, done it.
   "Thank you for being a supportive friend."
   "Elliot, we've cultivated a very healthy friendship; being supportive is part of that." I moved off of the bed, standing up, looking around the room, trying to find my clothes. "You don't happen to see my dress, socks, leggings, shoes, panties and bra?"
   "We might have lost a few articles of clothing in the cab ride over here."
   "Oh, yeah. Shame, I really liked your pizza sneakers."
   "There are your leggings." He pointed to the gray fabric that was hanging over the curtain rod. I stood on my tip toes, grabbing them. I turned around to see Elliot staring at me, smirking.
   "Thank karma that you didn't find your panties first."
   "Shut up, perv." I playfully said, as I stuck out my tongue, pulling on the leggings.
   "Sorry, I'm just saying, whatever I did in my past life must have been marvelous, because not only did I get to have intercourse with an incredibly visually appealing, Star Wars loving woman, but she's one of my best friend."


   "Aw, that's so sweet. Now tell me, how I just got got screwed slash walk of shame do I look?" I struck a pose, in last night's black, velvet wedges, my hair pulled back into a bun that was efficiently, ergonomically fashioned with a holey sock I stole from his dresser.
   "Eh, I dunno about that, but you look very enticing."
   "Why thank you. Now, I've got an eight am final and it's seven-forty eight; wish me luck."
   "Good luck." He replied, as I sauntered out of his room, blowing him a kiss as I went. I had grown out of my awkward, friendless, quiet girl phase and now, admittedly wasn't a social butterfly, was much more confident and had gained a few fellow H. G. Wells fanatics to associate with.. I knew that I wasn't supermodel attractive, however I also knew that there wasn't much I could do about it; might as well embrace my looks, my intelligence, my geekiness.
   I was living in carefree bliss. I had a four point zero GPA, my professors were wonderful, I had been able to work with several acclaimed quantum physicists who'd made large strides in the field, my robotic engineering skills had improved, I'd attended my sixth consecutive San Diego Comic Con; what wasn't to love?

Sunday, February 1, 2015

10.6: A Bit of a Time Travel Obsession

   "Hey, where you going for lunch, Janes?"
   "I brought mine." I smiled at Elliot Keith, the other intern. He was a year older than me, a freshman at UCLA, majoring in physics, the field I wanted to pursue. "So the break room, I suppose."
   "Ah and here I thought you would go out with your friends."
   "I'm not exactly the friend type." I shrugged blushing as I hung up my lab coat.
   "Really?" He looked surprised, as I shrugged, unsure of how to reply. I'd presumed that fact was obvious; I was spending the last spring break I was going to have working, well, volunteering, I technically was not being payed, after all. "Er- Sorry- I, uh... Did I offend you?"
   "Oh, no, I just mean, I, stereotypes. Geeks. Scientists."
   "Yeah... Do you want to eat lunch together? So we're not alone, I mean. If I-"
   "Alright." We were both socially awkward people, why not be awkward together? We headed off to the break room together, ready to spend the allotted twenty minute break we were, reluctantly, taking. If it wasn't for California law, both of us would probably willingly work from five am to ten pm with no breaks, instead of nine to six with two fifteen minute breaks and a twenty minute lunch break.
   "So..." He started, once we'd pulled our subsistence out of the fridge, microwaved it, and decided that the break room was too chilly and that the warm, April air outside would be a much more satisfying place to consume our lunch. "What college are you planning on attending?"
   "UCLA offered me a full ride, so there, probably. I was hoping a Massachusetts, or another east coast Ivy league, university would at least offer me a partial scholarship, though, tragically, they did not."


   "I'm sorry." He said, looking genuinely upset, he was not just saying it due to social protocol dictating it.
   "It's fine, I mean, they're a decent school, especially for a physics undergrad degree with a minor in robotic engineering, furthermore I was thinking maybe Caltech, Stanford, MIT, Princeton, or Duke for grad school."
   "MIT is my number one for grad school; astrophysics."
   "Ah." I smiled. "You're one of those types."
   "Why yes, yes I am." He replied, wiggling his eyebrows. "I don't suppose you'd tell me what major you were thinking for grad school."
   "Quantum physics, theoretical physics."
   "String theory?"
   "Time travel."
   "Don't tell me you had a traumatic childhood instance and wish to remedy it by traveling back in time."
   "Oh, no, don't start using the soft sciences against me. I want to travel forward in time."
   "But not space?"
   "Is it peculiar of me to believe that that is something better left to the Doctor?"
   "Is it peculiar of me to believe that he was the one who inspired you to pursue the traveling through time?"
   "Considering that he, and all of his regenerations, did not, I would answer yes."
   "Who did?"
   "Many people, Hawking, was the most influential, however my passion began when I read H. G. Wells' novel The Time Machine."
   "And which time do you wish to travel to?"


   "All of them."
   "All?"
   "Every monumental moment, rather than all, would be a better way of phrasing it."
   "Do people find it laughable?"
   "Do you?" I took a bite of my lunch, eying him with curiosity.
   "I wouldn't deny the possibility of something we have yet to disprove."
   "Superb answer."
   "I try." He said, standing up, to toss away his detritus. "I believe it is time to begin our work again."
   "I believe that as well..." I said, halfheartedly. I was going to be building a robot to help with the experiment my boss was doing, which I loved, however I was enjoying the witty banter in between Elliot and myself. I had worked beside him for a year, since Hadley, who proudly boasted of her 2.6 GPA every time we communicated, had set me up with the research lab's largest donor's son, yet this was the first time we'd truly been able to converse and I didn't want the moment to end.

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Aww, You Wonderful Peoples, You!

You wonderful peoples, you! Yes, you! ASDFHJKL. I have no words to describe the joy I'm feeling right now, so the second line of letters on the keyboard will have to suffice. Why my utter, indescribable joy? Well, in case you haven't looked at a calender today is February first, which means I can look at the January 2015 viewer stats and, well...



That's right, 3,014. THREE THOUSAND FOURTEEN. Also, on my iPad, iPhone, and computer I've ensured that blogger doesn't count my views + my family doesn't read this legacy, so I know that they aren't from me and my mother. Also, I don't use Chrome or any web browser that isn't Firefox or mobile Safari or anything that isn't an iPad, iPhone, or Windows based, so this:


Is also proof that I have legitimate readers.
GAHHAD. ASDFGHJKLKJH. ERMAHGAWD. SKFLD.
Hence my gibberish.
I don't know what else to say, other than thank you and I love ya guys.

-xo,
Jill

P.S. Jill won in the name poll... So call me Jill (what I think the second two letters of TJL, JL, JanesLegacy, sounds like), please.