Happieness is a choice

I could give this post a snappy title, but it’s all a bunch of crap. October 15, 2010

Filed under: Rambles — GabrialGrewOnUp @ 3:32 pm

I feel like every time I turn around there’s something waiting to trick me, like the phone, or the mirrors in my room, or Rachel Schieckoff.

Everything at Rachel’s house is Shenanigans, from the cards we played peak with, to the food I thought was fudge but ended up being chocolate cheese. Now she told us it was chocolate cheese, but I didn’t believe her. I thought it was a joke. THIS  was not a joke. It has the texture of cheese, the appearance of chocolate, it smells like cheese, and the taste just leaves your mind confused – I however liked it. 

I’m not sure who would invent such a thing, but I know it probably started off as a cruel cruel joke towards their friends. After talking about the new chocolate cheese I discovered, I thought I would share with you some of the other odd things, that I just find cool.

1. LightSaber Chopsticks – they light up and everything

2. Crayon carvings

3.  Ducktape art

4. Fork bending

5. Key Tree

Interesting right?


I paint with watercolours and show’d you my downstairs mixup – love me?

Filed under: Rambles — GabrialGrewOnUp @ 2:37 pm

I was a boring person, and I still am for the most part. But sometime last year my mother told me I was boring, I had no social life and I needed to get involved more. This plan has back fired on her.

Since being told how lame I was I went on a joining spree, I now get up early every Wednesday for Appasioanta and every friday for Concert Choir. I stay after school every Tuesday for glee girls – a group of people who watch glee together – and every thursday for Improv meetings. And although it’s not extra curricular I’m in yearbook. I’ve also started hanging out with my friends more, and going to all the dances.

My mother is horrified by my sudden popularity, she doesn’t like me going out a lot, and complains that I always need money for this trip or that trip. Most of all she hates driving carpool every other week. I don’t think waking up early for her would be all that bad – if I didn’t wake her up in the most creepy way possible.

It started a long while back, that after watching a youtube video together I began to wake her up with the creepy whispering lines of:“I’m old Greg, do you love me? Could you learn to love me? I showed you my downstairs mixup.” For those of you not familiar with old Greg, google it, you will be creeped out and afterward you will imagine me waking my mother up like that, and you will thank the air you’re not her.

Alright but moving on, I’m social, I wake my mother up creepily, and that’s about all this post has talked about. Which is really, kinda lame… when I think about… So I’m not going to think about, I’m just going to force all of you to endure this lameness. I guess I should wrap this post up before it gets really long an annoying so… Magical Space Bear!



Filed under: Lenovo — GabrialGrewOnUp @ 1:14 am
This is something I wrote on my gaia account for a roleplay, it’s not really that good, or long but I thought it would be better than another rant about why I’m no good on the phone.

Eva Valeria Vladescu


Sorrow leaves me cold and torn,
Staring at pale Winter’s sky;
Forgotten love a whisper’s scorn,
These wounds I’ve failed to hide.
 Such broken legacies remain,
From disconcerted lullabies;
Gray paintings all left in disdain,
On this somber winter’s night.
Your golden eyes have saved me,
From all that once was I,
Now only you can break me,
If this heart be what you deny.
I feel the warmth your lips do bring
The sirens too did sway;
Take flight with angelic wings,
Neither truth nor lie can stay.
These scars of my obsession,
Bleed and burn with decay;
Endless winter beholds this sin,
For lovers are but runaways.


“The Runaway”

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The air was cold and bitter, especially for April and the windows in this building were all but nonexistent. drip, drip, drip The smell of sawdust and old motor oil wafted up into her nose and the floor was cold, hard and damp beneath her. Drip, drip, drip. She knew that the sun would rise soon enough and she would have to leave her cover for the night, but with the wind whipping around and the rain slashing against the roof she dread the thought. Drip, drip, drip. Damn it, she had checked the roof before she settled in last night, where the hell was that dripping noise coming from. She lifted her damp hair off of the concrete floor; her clothes were all but plastered against her body. Her body struggled against her, clinging to the last wisps of sleep but she forced herself up hoping that her legs would support her. She stretched her arms and legs reaching out in front of her, her head pointing towards the sky. Drip, Drip, Drip. The cold water hit her square in the face; above her she saw the culprit. A sky light with a very visible crack in its surface was funneling a constant stream of water into the building.

Eva shivered, her eyes fluttering opening and her teeth chattering uncontrollably. She stood up, her knees shaking under her a result of fatigue and hunger. She dredged towards the large metal door, the one that had so conveniently come “unlocked” last night. She opened it a sliver and peered outside, it was hard to see through the sheets of rain but she was able to make out shapes along the street; a broken down car, a dumpster, a couple of boxes full of old pots and pans. A thought clicked in her mind, she opened the door and made a mad dash for the boxes. Scooped up as much as she could carry and dashed back to the door. She was now soaked to the bone and her high-tops squeaked along the floor she found the source of the dripping and set a pot directly beneath it. Now instead of a dripping noise it was more like a metal thwang. She looked around her at the pieces of scrap metal and few broken crates.

Her cardboard mat was slush beneath her feet, and there was no way she was getting back to sleep now. Eva sighed and looked around once more, there was no reason to stay here soon enough the building inspectors would come around looking for squatters. She walked over to the only dry spot in the building, a small hole in the wall. There she grabbed her canvas bag and the only clean piece of clothing she had left; her black hoodie. Pulling it on over her head she breathed in the smell of the vanilla fabric softener and for just a minute imagined being back at home laughing and helping her dad fold laundry. Remembering the curve of his nose and the way his forehead crinkled when he laughed, she snapped to right away. There was no reason to remember him, he was gone. She walked back over to the door and with one last backwards glance she headed out into the rain.

The wind whipped harder the minute Eva stepped outside, causing the rain to become like needles pricking her skin. She pulled the stretched out sleeves down over her hands to keep them from freezing. The sky was filled with layer upon layer of thick dark clouds. The clouds prevented any rays of light from shining through, and so the streets around Eva were almost as black as night. Above her a street light flickered, a buzzing sound began getting louder and louder as the street lamp flickered more widely. The wind picked up adding a loud moaning in with the buzzing. It took her a moment to realize what was happening, but it was already to late, something like an explosion occurred above her and within seconds, glass was tinkling down around her like a waterfall. She threw her arms over her face and crouched down, the glass still raining down. The last pieces fell beside her. Eva counted to ten before she stood up and shook loose shards from her hood. Now looking around the streets were completely dark, all the light had been coming from that single streetlamp.

Eva breathed out, unaware that she’d been holding her breath. She began to trudge forward, one foot in front of the other. Glass crunching beneath her feet, she moved towards the sidewalk. The emptiness around her was nothing new and now that she was on the sidewalk filled with weeds and dead leaves; the only noise was from the howling of the wind and the soft pitter patter of the rain. Walking for what seemed like an endless amount of time, Eva turned onto a main street, still mostly abandoned. The street was overrun with trees that hung over her like a sort of makeshift roof and creating a vast amount of shadows. At the other end of the street Eva heard the sound of tires on the wet road, she pushed herself backwards against a fence turning her head down and blending into the shadows. The car passed her without ever slowing.

She began walking again, cautious to every noise around her, but there was nothing, and that’s the way she liked it. She’d been living on the streets for almost 3 months now, but she had learned a few things quickly. Things like, don’t go into building if they have a light on. Chances are there are already people who have claimed the land or the fact that if a person seemed too good to be true then they probably were. Like the week she had spent at the homeless shelter, and the lady in her mid 30’s who had been extremely nice to Eva. Until the one afternoon she showed up for lunch and child services was waiting at the front of the building. If it hadn’t been for that tree down on main street, and the fact that she had to take a bunch of back roads to get to the building – which caused her to be late for lunch – she might have been taken away right then. But she’d been smarter since then, never giving out her real name, never staying in one neighborhood to long, and always moving around. Ahahaha! Always moving around, that was the reason she had run away from her family in the first place. Always getting settled in and getting adjusted just to be uprooted again at the drop of a hat.

Eva stepped into a large puddle, she had gotten lost in her thought again, something that seemed to be happening more and more these days. The mud and water splashed up to her knees causing a new wave of shivering to explode through her body. She jumped back, the cold water shocking her system. Goosebumps covered her flesh, and her head whipped backwards smashing into a tree. She knew that it would most likely leave a mark but she had to keep moving, the rain was starting to lighten up, although the wind was relentless and soon enough the outside world would begin waking up. She quickened her pace, sticking to the far side of the sidewalk know, away from the road. The only thing she could hear was the throbbing part of her head. She did a mental check on it seeing how big of a bruise it would leave or whether it would cause a goose egg. The pain seemed to be coming from an area about the size of an orange and was located right near the back of her head. She raised her fingers and brushed against it softly, she winced as pain shot instantly through her veins. Son of a Bitch.

She dropped her hand, and allowed the pain to subside but not vanish. She kept walking every now and then lightly touching her head; it wasn’t until she heard a twig snap behind her that she realized she wasn’t alone anymore. She glanced behind her, slowing down only a fraction of her pace but it was just enough to see the shadow of someone looming a few feet away. The shadow stopped, pulled the sleeve of its coat up and seemed to be looking at its wrist. Eva could make out the lines of its body; it seemed to be about 6 foot 2 with a muscular build, definitely male. He was wearing combat boots, dark jeans and a black coat. It was when Eva turned her face up towards his, that she noticed he was no longer staring at his watch. Instead his dark eyes were focused directly on hers, his lips lifted up into a sort of menacing half-smile, like something she had done was funny, but only he got the joke. It was now that reality hit her in the face. She was in danger, standing a mere couple of feet from a stranger, and inside her something was telling her to run.

She didn’t move.

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OutOfCardboard: αγαπάς?


the phone

Filed under: Rambles — GabrialGrewOnUp @ 12:48 am

I hate phone calls, I think it’s that simple. I have what everyone has come to call my “phone voice”. It’s apparently different from how I normally talk to people. It goes up a couple octaves and sounds sweet – like I just ate a pixie stick and washed it down with a bottle of honey. And it makes me sound like my mother, it creeps my friends out how not me I sound on the phone.

But my phone voice isn’t the reason I dislike the phone so much – it’s the fact that I don’t like talking on the phone, when people call for my family. Wether it’s my parents work or just a friend of my brothers they always call when I’m near a phone. So I feel obligated to pick up. The conversation usually goes something like this:

Voice: Hello, Lorna? Is John there?

Me: Umm, this is Gabrial, Lorna’s daughter.

Voice: Oh… Alright. Well is John there?

Me: John Junior, or John Senior?

Voice: – Sigh – I don’t know, the younger one?

Me: Oh, he’s not here right now.

Voice: Fine, can you just tell him that his package is in.

Me: Sure no probl— hangs up — em.

Now to most people this wouldn’t be a big deal, but the minute I go and tell a family member someone called, it’s always the same conversation.

Me: Your package is in.

Brother: What??

Me: Someone called earlier, said your package was in.

Brother: Was it Erbby? Did Errby call?

Me: umm…

Brother: Well did he?

And THAT, right there, that is the problem. I don’t mind talking to people on the phone for a short amount of time, I don’t even mind taking there messages, but they never give me their name, and I’m always left looking like an idiot, so I just say yes.

Me: Yes, it was probably Erbby.

Brother: Alright, I’ll call him back

Me: *sigh*

Except this won’t always work, I’m waiting for the day that somebody finally catches on and tricks me into a large web of lie. I imagine that it will go something like this

Me: Work called, they need you in early.

Sister: Alright no problem, wait, was it Meghan who called?

Me: – pause to think – yes, yes it was Meghan.

Sister: HA! Lies, there is no Meghan at work. I made it up, Why would you lie to me about who called, do you want me to get confused, do you want me to get fired? Well do you?

Me: Ahh…

And it is at this point that my head will explode.


Because I don’t post enough… **updated October 14, 2010

Filed under: Rambles — GabrialGrewOnUp @ 4:42 pm

Hello again, writer’s craft… and anyone who may have stumbled upon this blog. This is another rant – their getting to be a daily thing now – which will get, if not already, really annoying to the lot of you. But I like to write on this thing, it allows me to just blah blah blah, for a good amount of time.

My guest person, standing behind me today is Rachel, she is currently freaking out over the fact that she has a project due right after lunch and the computer she is working on just froze – I’ve shown her the “Alot” article, and it seemed to calm her down just a tab bit, but not that much. When Rachel gets upset she sometimes makes little wimpery noises.

There was one time in the washroom, where the lack of paper towels made her fall to the ground, pull out her hair and cry for about 10 minutes.

Rachel has now returned to her computer across the library where she’s staring at it desperately willing it to work, and glaring at it daring it to stay frozen. It’s quite a thing to watch.

Moving on to why I actually started this post today, well there is no reason, I was bored and this blogging thing is just a way for me to type things and look important to other people.

You’re probably wondering if I’ll ever post something of interest on here, and not just what I watch, read, listen to and ramble about. As in short stories, chapters from the books I write, what’s currently in my fridge or why I’m not wearing my left shoe. And the answer is yes, I usually post in a large group called a “clusterfuck” – meaning that I take long periods of time where I write nothing at all, and then return by writing 3 or more post’s in the matter of hours. It’s something that if you continue to visit my blog, you will learn to adjust to.

I think later today on spare or sometime tonight after improv I will post a bunch of stuff, to compliment the vast amount of … stuff, I’ve already posted.

Update: the computor gave up. Rachel wins this round.

Update – Round two: Rachel froze a different computor… they’re plotting against her.


this isn’t serious. October 13, 2010

Filed under: So you could say... — GabrialGrewOnUp @ 3:51 pm

That’s right, I’m finally admitting to it, this blog has not and will never be serious. As much as I long to be an adult like the rest of the gang, I just can’t bring myself to write about the struggling economy or how I just saved 15 percent on my car insurance by switching to Geico. For reasons unknown, I don’t posses the serious gene, and as odd as it’s not. I’m completely fine with this.

I don’t think I long to be serious, I enjoy being the comic relief. Even when what I write is only funny to myself. I’m the type of person who just reads blogs and comic strips all day. Because I have no life and therefore I spend all my time doing things that have no use, like watching tv and… wait, didn’t we just go over this. Many of you will most likely not like my blog and therefore you will hardly visit. But that’s alright because once a month I’m probably gonna just write a hate filled blog about you… or maybe not, I haven’t really decided yet, but you’d have read my blog to know anyways – I’m devious like that.

Anyway this blog post only really exists because we were in class today and Cvetich was talking about how he couldn’t read blog’s because people have lives, and hadn’t written anything yet – unlike me – and then Elena… THAT’S RIGHT… I’m mentioning your name in my post… back on topic – Elena said that she hadn’t read anything new but that she read’s my blog. Which completely surprised me. I really thought I was the only one subjected to the torture that is my writing. No seriously if you’re still reading this it’s like being smacked in the face or strapped down to a table, injected with crack-cocaine, or maybe speed and then forced to watch a documentary on sea snail’s… or the whole twilight saga. It’s just plain torture.


Let Allie alter your life…

Filed under: Rambles — GabrialGrewOnUp @ 3:26 pm
But there is one grammatical mistake that I particularly enjoy encountering.  It has become almost fun for me to come across people who take the phrase “a lot” and condense it down into one word, because when someone says “alot,” this is what I imagine:
The Alot is an imaginary creature that I made up to help me deal with my compulsive need to correct other people’s grammar.  It kind of looks like a cross between a bear, a yak and a pug, and it has provided hours of entertainment for me in a situation where I’d normally be left feeling angry and disillusioned with the world.  
For example, when I read the sentence “I care about this alot,” this is what I imagine: 
Similarly, when someone says “alot of _______”, I picture an Alot made out of whatever they are talking about.  
If someone says something like “I feel lonely alot” or “I’m angry alot,” I’m going to imagine them standing there with an emo haircut, sharing their feelings with an Alot.  
The Alot is incredibly versatile. 
So the next time you are reading along and you see some guy ranting about how he is “alot better at swimming than Michael Phelps,” instead of getting angry, you can be like “You’re right!  Alots are known for their superior swimming capabilities.”


This was a post by a girl named Allie, she has a blog, that can possibly change your life. I know her blog has altered my life in a myriod of ways, like the fact that I can no longer look at the word “Alot” with imagining a furry bear, yak, pug. And trust me that can lead to alot of awkward bursts of laughter.

For suggestions on what to read try: Dog, The Alot, How a fish almost destroyed my childhood, A better pain scale and The awkward situation survival guide.

Let Allie alter your life, read her blog.