Seeing Red - A Late Night Argument

'Fictionalise a real argument you've had. Write only in dialogue.'



Before I start I am (as always) going to have to give some background and just generally ramble a little bit. I am struggling a little bit to understand how you fictionalise an argument you’ve had. I suppose changing the people a little bit and the paraphrasing that would naturally occur in memory anyway. This argument to follow is a bit of a conglomerate of what I’ll just say it is a hazard that comes with my job. I have toned down the language a little bit.



‘Urgh... What time is it?’

‘0300. I’m going on watch.’

‘What on EARTH are you doing?’

USS Yorktown Red Light

‘Are you stupid? I just said that. I am going on watch.’

‘I am NOT stupid. I wasn’t asking where you were going. I know where you are going. WHAT ARE YOU DOING?’

‘Getting up... that much should be obvious.’

‘What has that to do with the F***ing white light then?’

‘So that I can see what I am doing.’

‘What is wrong with the perfectly functional red light we have used every night for forever.’

‘I don’t like it.’

‘I don’t care. Its the middle of the damn night.’

‘And I am going to use the white light.’

‘And wake me up. I only got to bed three and a half hours ago.’

‘Its only a little white light... You can hardly see it on your bunk at all.’

‘There is a reason why we only use red light at night. This shit ruins night vision and is just generally impossibly bright.’

‘Stiff shit.’

‘Oh come off it. If I’d done this to you I’d never hear the end of it.’

‘Eh... I’m going on watch now. Bye.’

‘Oi! Don’t you leave this room without turning that blasted light off.’

‘I’d say thanks... but you wouldn’t take it as genuine anyway.’

‘That’s because it wouldn’t be.’

‘Humpf. I’m going to try and get the next 3 hours of sleep. You’re just lucky that not even to spite you would I turn my white light on in the middle of the night. I actually possess manners.’



While writing this I thought. Its funny these arguments are easy enough to write and I reckon that 90%, if not more, people chose to write this argument from their side of the argument. Its the natural thing to do, after all if you are going to revise the argument you are DEFINATELY going to be right aren’t you? I reckon this would have been a much better challenge piece to have attempted to write the dialogue from the OTHER person’s perspective... I’d bet they’d remember it differently. Or at least pick an argument where you knew you were fighting the losing battle. Anybody who wrote one like that – you’ll have to let me know.

Not Exactly a Strong Story Teller

Ah Plinky... out to seperate the men from the boys... I'm probably a boy. However while I could yell chicken and run for the hills, or perhaps uncle would be more appropriate, I'll give it a shot.



"Tell a story with dialogue. Your characters: two cops in Alaska." I am going to beg forgiveness before I begin. I have written a total of 2 short stories in my memory and the latter of which was a year 9 english assignment... yes the LATTER... so this is going to get interesting. I am being a little lax on the exact context of a 'dialogue' but still... here goes...





'Alex! What the hell are you doing?' Georgie stared at her partner in disbelief. Or at least stared in his general direction. Alex was hidden within the hole he was digging and the mound of excavated dirt which suggested the hole was big enough to bury a body... of an elephant.

Police Dog

Alex made an indiscernible noise in response. He kept his head down. His concentration fixed on further widening the hole.



'Its too much to hope that you aren't burying something in this hole. You haven't dug holes for the sake of it in years.' With a grunt amidst his continued digging Alex indicated with a tilt of his head the mangled body mostly obscured by the large dirt mound.



'I tell you mate. ((woops australianism in an alaskan setting - stuff alaska)) You are a verifiable Dexter. I would hate to think what would happen if they caught you doing this stuff. I certainly don't know what I'd do without you.' Georgie forced Alex to look at her hoping to force him to feel remorse at his actions. That, however, was too much to ask for.



As she was about to get into the matter further the sound of their radio crackling to life interupted her train of thought as well as Alex's digging. At the sound he jumped cleanly out of the whole and started to hurry to drag the body into the hole. As Georgie listened to the incident and gave indication she would be on her way. Alex covered over the hole.



'I guess that will have to do Alex. Looks like we have some real bad guys to take care of.' Take his quick response as an ascent she walked over to the car sure he wouldn't be far behind. She opened the back of the car and without hesitation Alex jumped up and settled into his specialised K-9 cage.

Eulogies and Back Pew Gossip

Oh goodie... Funerals. You probably need a warning on your site - can promote suicidal thoughts. I'm not one for the suicide o'course but really you just keep giving me opportunities to mention it. I'm mentioning it today because I reckon suicidal personalities have probably got the best idea about this one. They don't really; their depressed and pessimistic thoughts would prevent more accurate analysis. Not that anybody would be able to right the subjective account of themselves from somebody else's view objectively (I'm not even sure what that says but I thought it sounded good in my head).



Why am I saying all this? Today's plinky topic is 'A fly on the wall at your funeral. What are people saying?'. Its making some assumptions there - people have to rock up at your funeral for them to talk. Also what I think is the most important point of all this is the two sides to the coin. What the person who is writing your eulogy saying about you, and what the people sitting in the rows of the church/hall/cave (cave?) are thinking or saying between themselves.



I'm not saying they are going to be as different as the poles of a magnet (unless you are a bitchy whore who smoked, drank, trafficked, solicited and refused to come to the family christmas party) simply that they are never quite the same story.



Anyway before I get into talking about myself I am going to further explain my mention of the suicidal. This whole concept of what people are saying at my funeral... it really depends on how I died? Dying young and suddenly in a car accident will have far different discussion that death after a long illness or death from old age. Who except the suicidal (or people entertained by morbid thought) would choose to assume their death was from something other than old age.

Airplane Casket

I'm actually not going to lead into anything there. I didn't (for these purposes) die of anything interesting (or mentionable). However I also wont be dying of old age-to much change in a live from 20 to 80 to predict it. I am also going to leave out some of them more 'miss, miss, sad, sad' bits I haven't been to enough funerals to replicate them very effectively. So my actual answer to this question will be three micro-eulogies from the people closest to me with some italic bits thrown in from the unnamed back-pew bandits.



My Mother



My daughter, my only daughter. She was a hard and dedicated worker when she wanted to be spent most of her time holed up in her room - sounds about right but a hopeless procrastinator I had to remind and prod just the same. She was intelligent and academically gifted though there were times when I would have to encourage her through many of the more obvious social situations. She had social skills? She never used them.



She was as different from me as day to night. From the time she was but a baby she shied away from physical contact, whereas I would always have loved for her to give me a hug. She found it hard to express her emotions, making it all the more meaningful when she did. So that hug she gave me one time was supposed to be meaningful? Riight Though I was often the last to know, the last to get the phone call home once she had moved away, she showed me her love in her outgoing, spill all conversations and the sharing of her latest great theory to solve things. She certainly seemed to have some of the world miscellaneous theories about nothing at times



My Brother



My sister and I spent most of our childhood years with the typical love-hate relationship of siblings. I guess it would be said that it was because we loved each other that we would irritate one another simply to see the other react and it was because we knew each other so well that we could, perhaps I should say specifically that I could, push the other's buttons with an efficiency unmatched by others.



Nevertheless when I wasn't pointing the knife at her, or her at me, we were some of the best playmates. The hours we spent playing together, Nintendo then later Play Station and even from time to time some good old card games. You played games with her? No wonder you ended up with knives drawn. She never was a very good loser. We were far apart enough in age and too different in temperament to have much in common at school or in work. Still we talked from time to time about everything from the weather to our relationships. Weather yes... relationships, pretty sure she never had much luck in those



My Best Friend



She was my wingman and I was hers. Its funny when you think about it. Who would imagine a relationship as strong as ours developing over having a primary school best friend in common of all things. So this relationship... you guys were lesbians yes? I suppose there is something to be said for similarities in taste of friends. Which isn't to say we were similar in anything else.



We were as different as my red her to her brown. I was the one to say the outrageous and the extreme and she was the one with the dry humour to cut down my plots oh so that dry sarcasm was supposed to be funny? here I thought she was simply a really dull pessimist. Just the same I seemed to rub off on her. I would start an idea but so often her imagination would extend it beyond anything I could have imagined. She never was very good at sticking on topic in conversation that's for sure. We had plans for our lives like owning a hotel, or owning a hotel on the moon even right through to simply having a house together with a dog.



I am going to miss her. Our daily conversations, the way we bounced ideas off one another. I think I was one of the people who knew her best. I knew all the quirks just as she knew mine. For that I think I am one of the few people who got to see the real her well I certainly only ever saw the standoffish, insecure, wallflower of a human being. I loved her and will miss her greatly.

Chewing Peas and More Useful Advice

Today we are talking about advice. Not just any advice of course but rather GOOD advice. Hell, they are looking for the best advice I've ever received. So as always I'm going to give a little more than you bargained for and cover most of the interesting (though not necessarily useful advice) I've been given over the years.



Firstly who gives the best advice? Its probably going to be a family member, mum, dad or in more timeless areas grandparents. By that I mean most grandparents are able to provide a unique but often outdated advice. The most memorable piece of grandparently advice I've ever had was being told to chew my food 72 times before I swallowed it. Which my grandmother proceeded to make me do with cooked peas... ever chewed peas more than about 5 times? The mush consistency is near unbearable.

"Peas, Please Me" - EXPLORED

That was an example of frustrating advice bordering on useless advice. The difference frustrating advice is good for you but you hate it anyway. The large majority of my mother's advice falls into that category (sorry mum). Things like yes you should study and not stay up talking on msn. Even now she still reminds me that I should be making study plans or similar. Where as useless advice is exactly that 100% useless. Like a person telling you how to make good beer when you don't even drink beer let alone home brew the stuff.



The best advice is generally dished out on a personal level by people who know you well. Terrible advice is always that family friend's daughter who you've met once telling you how to get a boyfriend. Or better yet advising you on why you haven't got a boyfriend. Not that best friends advice is often much better. Its a bit of a mixed bag. They offer the most heartfelt advice which is the good stuff but are also most likely to give advice 'to go for it' - supportive advice - which may actually be the worst possible plan around.



Nevertheless there is final advice - most frequently given at school or at work - whenever you are 'under instruction' really. This is the kind of advice you can probably find in the 'self-help' section of the book store. Filled with clichés and non-clichés (when they have said that a particular cliché is false so often that you hear that as often as you once heard the cliché) it is generally taken with a grain of salt and hilarious to poke fun at (if you can get away with it without getting in trouble for talking).



Nevertheless some of the most useful - read best - advice I've had for was that last kind. You know what? Never, never volunteer. You get volunteered (at least in the military) often enough without you compiling onto it. Sure there is that once in a blue moon time when the people volunteering get the lesser of two evils. Don't let that fool you that is the exception and not the rule. To extend on it, never answer a dumb question asked to you at random by a superior. They do NOT care if you like strawberry ice-cream with chocolate topping it is just another ploy to get you to self-volunteer.



Finally a second piece of workplace advice I love is 'be the gray man'. At the same time never be the 'gray man'. The 'gray man' is the one the staff have their eye on for being an average achiever, passes everything but never excels. To 'be the gray man' you have to be smarter than that. You have to pick your strengths and play to them. Maybe you run fast, you make that the one thing the staff know about you, or if you do alright at maths make sure your maths result is a little better than a bare pass. It may be more effort but you are far less likely to be picked up for never working. Which contrary to belief the 'gray man' often is.



Good advice, bad advice, the most useless advice you have ever heard. Just remember it is generally said good naturedly. Simply smile and nod and remember that more often than not - no matter what people like to say - you often know already what works best for you. Even if you have never done something before if it sounds dumb it probably is dumb and you probably should work to that piece of advice like its the gospel. The fun part about that is it is advice to say don't take just any old advice. ;p

I'll Admit My Nerdy Side

If I could go back and relive one day of my life, which one would it be? There is nothing like a wide open question to put me in a good mood my dear plinky. After all the simple question Why? (why to pick that day) is far more complex that it may seem. There are so many completely different ways to read this question.



A person could choose to take it as a day they want to relive because they want to change something that happened. Though I'm worried if anybody (I'd predict probably someone of the high school 'emo' set) chooses to relive the day they attempted suicide to make it more complete. Sad though it would be I am also a little worried about people wishing to relive the day when somebody else died or was involved in some freak accident – to all those people there was nothing you could do... Stop mentally revisiting it every day.



Another approach (I’m hoping more common) would be to relive GOOD events from your life. The day your team won the championship game, your wedding day (which really could fall into any of the three approaches I’m describing but my romantic side would like to put into this one) or some other day you accomplished something amazing. Good things are going to be a first or a last, the day you met somebody or the day you finally qualified at your job. The intermediate days are just never as good.



My final ‘approach’ is the time travelling conscious. This one is almost implicitly required in the BAD event approach but for good times it may be a useful addition. Nobody wants to relive the bad things and not have the knowledge to fix them. For good times, or even simply interesting times, taking your current day ‘self’ with you makes it so much more interesting. Or maybe (because I am sure somebody answered this with the day they were born) they simply want an interesting memory of a life event. Or sometime when knowing what you know now would make it a little interesting. Anyway now that I’ve analysed the topic to death maybe I’ll pick something shall I?

Beaker bug, it's science!

There are a lot of good days in my life (I certainly have no desire to relive any bad times) but to pick an interesting one to relive. I have been very bored during my uni holidays so I think I want to relive one of the more interesting holiday activities I’ve ever done. The Science Experience I participated in at one of the Brisbane unis. I have to say I recommend that kind of thing to any slightly nerdy person who wants some fun on their holiday. Unfortunately for you and me both it is a high school only thing so except in this context it’s now a past opportunity for me... Glad I did it while I could then.



It was three days, so I’m going to have to pick a single day, I’ll get to that. First some of the reasons why I would pick this event in general. It was a hell of a lot of fun (but I’m sure that is a given) but more importantly it was a number of firsts for me (being allowed to catch the train to the city alone, being treated in general as an adult – or at least an intelligent being, seeing a university campus, attending my first lecture (yep they were just as bad then as now)). It was one of those unique experiences I had in high school that I DIDN’T have to share with the other high achieving student of my school (ever high achiever whether it is academics or athletics or the arts has the one person who is out in front with them and they have the –I call it healthy – competition).



So I can’t have the whole three days again. That’s ok... I will never forgive them for sending us to the natural sciences facility while the others did – well this many years on I can’t remember what they did but it was something I had really wanted to do. Unlike a lot of those kind of camp activities there was no choice about which to attend nor did everybody attend all of them. Groups A-D simply went to wherever it was and lucky groups E-F got to met some geologist and talk about rocks and erosion. Here is where I point out that I didn’t even do biology in senior let alone geology or geography, ick.



The day I wouldn’t mind re-doing since that day is clearly out. Well, I’d say the day we went to the anatomy department of UQ. Yes I found looking at dead bodies very fascinating (this coming from a girl who at that point in my life still had trouble sleeping after some CSI episodes). I have this awful feeling that is what we did after the rock people though so I’ll pass it.



Instead the day that we played the invention game – if you managed to read some of my previous posts and come back for more drivel (did you know that drivelled is a word? I didn’t. thanks spell check) you may have heard me mention this game. We made a very incredible surf board which could be created on a desert island with nothing more than paper, a couple of straws, string and all the sand in the world. Then created the best pun infomercial (in my unbiased opinion) for said surfboard ever seen, anywhere.



The whole day was just a lot of fun. I think that was the last day of the camp (though I may be wrong). Which unfortunately makes it the short day (but I wouldn’t take natural sciences day even for a full day event). Nevertheless the closing ceremony (by short day it still didn’t end until about 4.30) was entertaining to – science based ‘magic’ tricks and some random interesting banana about how science as a career could be fun.



The random fact was simply that bananas cannot be juiced (and pear juice is most commonly substituted in ‘banana’ flavoured juices) but they had been doing stuff to make bananas (looking similar to lady fingers) which are able to be juiced. Other bananas have been manipulated to increase their nutritional value with the aim being to make one banana cover the full range of vitamins and minerals for use in countries where food availability isn’t good. Just to finish off I would just want to do the day again; not take my memories back with me (that would spoil all the jokes).

Never Tell My Mother

So my darling plinky – you have chosen to be irritating again. If my concentration was better than that of a firefly perhaps I would cut you away completely (and for those of you unaware of the ‘cut away’ slang look it up, one of the most useful pieces of military slang which I would like to bring to the civilian world) but alas I am still here. Why are you irritating? Well you finally managed to use an ‘an’ instead of a ‘-est’ word word. It is simply that you are making me use the third person perspective for a second time in two days. So long as you don’t make it a hat trick I’ll forgive you tomorrow.



Anyway let’s get on topic shall we? Tell an awkward third person... wait that isn’t it... Tell a story about an awkward school experience. Fun topic... Anybody who can’t write a novel of awkward school moments must either have a bad memory or a very good imagination. So anyway I guess I should pick a good one.



As always to find a good one I had to pit stop through a large number of memories before I find a good one that I can replay which is entertaining in something a bit longer than a Facebook status (I refuse to use Twitter even in my analogies). Anyway I figure I’ll avoid the moment I told my best friend of 4 years(well me and my other best friend called him that we were lucky we he acknowledged us as friends – whole story in that one) I liked him. Or the time in seventh grade when I had a discussion on the bus with an eighth grade girl about which was more offensive the finger or the toe (which she explained was physically manipulating your toes so that only the middle toe is standing) – the answer she was looking for (everybody who asks those questions has an answer they have already deemed the ‘right one) was the toe.



So I can think of an abundance of awkward moments throughout my schooling. This one I’m going to write about however is one of those times where the snowball rolling downhill grows out of control to comical dimensions.

School bus

It is a sixth grade lunch time. Nothing particularly unusual about this one, nothing to make it memorable. The class, for in this cafeteria students come as a class, sit as a class and leave as a class, arrived to the cafeteria. Kids divided into the two lines based on meal preference―the normal meal, veg & milk just inside the door/’fastfood’ option to the far side. The girls in question had chosen the normal line.



Well, all bar one, the other girl, who in this story will be called Olive, deemed herself too good for the normal food line. She deemed herself too good for a lot of things, including the other girls―particularly the other girls. Or at least one other girl, Peach, perhaps an easy target, the youngest in the year, a little heavy, who has (being Australian not American) grown up completely oblivious to the racism and all its complications.



Peaches had been a little bit out of it on this particular day, perhaps this particular week. The exact reason for this has been washed away with history, this event took place many, many years ago. Turning to her friend, Rose, Peach said, her eyes following Olive across the cafeteria. ‘I HATE her. I want to kill her.’ Rose didn’t make a comment simply turning to get her meal.



At the table a very seconds later with the rest of the members of her class Peach was confronted by another of her not favourite people, Lily. Unfortunately Peach, having conceded completely to her bad mood gave Lily a bit of an earful also. Not death threats, though she did reiterate the one towards Olive, simply frustrated comments.



Then walking into the classroom one of the boys, a friend of Lily’s, here we’ll call him Dennis, spoke to Peaches. ‘I know what you said about her Peach. I can’t believe you could say something like that.’ Peaches starred at him shocked, she felt threatened by his tone of voice, and his words played on her already active conscious. ‘You’re... gay’ She was shocked at herself for saying that. Never had she used the word gay that way, until that moment the only references in her life to gay had been of the good-time, gay-time variety.



That was the part of this story that got to the teacher. How does one back-pedal out of a situation like that? Peach certainly didn’t manage it. The whole story came out. Funnily all of the gay stuff got forgotten about pretty quickly. It certainly wasn’t the bit that had her fronting the school police officer. How many schools have a resident police officer in the sixth grade hall, certainly not in Aussie schools? Ahhh well... The death threats towards Olive, said with all the seriousness of a relatively well adjusted 11 year old girl unexposed to anything more violent than a Disney movie.



After a long line of ‘yes sir, no sir, three bags full sir’ while the Bye Baby Bunting police officer explained how serious threats were to Peach they got to decision time. ‘Miss Peach, this is a VERY serious matter. For the threats you have made toward Miss Olive you are going to have to go to children’s court. And tell your mother.’ He said this like the separate and far more significant point which to a 11 year old girl... is about right. ‘Or we will come to a compromise. I’m going to hand you over to the guidance councillor and she will oversee you apologising to Olive and mediating a solution to your relationship issues. This will not involve court and we won’t have to call you mother.’



Dumb question, thought Peach, anything for my mum to never know my lowest moments. ‘I’ll take mediation’ The guidance councillor came and took her to the office, calling for Olive to join them. Both girls were forced to apologise to one another. Ten minutes later Olive was returned to class leaving Peach alone with the councillor to talk about the problems she was having at the time. Apparently significant enough to save dear Peach from the during class detention room instead simply being returned to the classroom to read for the rest of the lesson.





Yep... lets just say that is the first and LAST time the word of the ‘law’ has ever been directed at me. It was also the most awkward supervised apology I have ever been party to. And one of the biggest things that ever happened to me at school that I never, NEVER told my mother.

A Very Scary Moment

The scariest moment of my life. I have worked out what it is I don't like about most of the plinky topics. They use '-est' words and 'favourite' far too often for me. I can write a page or two on any number of answers that fit the bill - for this topic that would be scary moments. Just the same I can't think of any defining moment. One time which I would single out - which means that in answering this question I (no matter how I answer) feel like I gave an incorrect answer.



So I have decided, for the sake of my sanity, to simply pick one moment of my life where I was scared. Well a little bit more than just scared - I am not about to speak of times when my uncle came up behind my computer chair and I jumped sky high. Or even the more extreme times when after hours of playing Cluedo on my computer some of the guys I lived with decided it was a good time to play practical jokes. I with also try to find a more interest moment of gut-wrenching fear than simply confronting the first exam paper I ever failed.



Anyway - today you get to avoid listening to me harp on - thanks to darling plinky I am required to describe the scariest moment of my life from a third person perspective. Mine you - I may simply be my normal obtuse self and choose to read that as third PARTY perspective. Its cause to be my usual chatty self pretending to be somebody else.

Carnegie Shield - Royal Dornoch Golf Club, August 2007

It had been a long night already when that shaken young mid fronted to tell me she had just crashed the duty golf buggy. I have to tell you I wasn't overly surprised. She drove me around the last time she was on duty and let me tell you - despite her state issued license which allows her on the road I have to say the four months confided to base for initial training I doubted if she was safe on the road.



I have to say I didn't know quite what to do with the girl. Close to hysterical with laughter about something that would surely lead to a charge (though't I am not sure of what). Apparently she had run off the road, hit a tree and fallen completely out of the vehicle. I have to tell you how the HELL somebody does that at 25k an hour I've no idea.



I concede that it was a pretty windy evening - dark, cloudy - but not raining. A base this small the roads aren't overly well lit. With a 40 speed limit though you'd certainly expect a car's head lights to be sufficient - even if you have to dodge a kangaroo or ten. But then as I said this girl didn't seem to be the most efficient driver on offer.



Apparently slow speed can be almost as dangerous as high speeds. Knowing the dear old golf buggy had been speed limited causes most of the trainee's to try the reckless and ridiculous to make up for what it's lacking. Apparently in this case the driver had thought she was going slow enough to attempt to fix the torn plastic door while driving. It doesn't surprise me is that that girl would think the long downhill CURVE would be a good time to do such things.



What does surprise me. What surprised everybody. Is that the cart managed to get up and over the gutter. To be honest I think that is the cause of the only damage on the golf buggy - except perhaps to the girl's nerves. However after mounting the curve she had gone about 2 meters into a tree. Had it not been for the tree she would have gone over the edge of the 4 metre sheer drop onto the golf course.



I have to say the driver despite her shock got off pretty easy from the whole thing. I checked with her - nothing wrong with her but a very bruises and a whole lot of excess adrenaline. Apparently after she fell out of the vehicle - not wearing a seat belt (not that I blame her I didn't even know the old thing had one) she almost rolled down the slope. Not that I think it was the best plan for a girl still shaking when she got to the duty room but she managed to drive the buggy (front axil well bent to boot) all the way home. No more damage to come of it than the government's $5000 (thankfully not passed onto the girl).



Finally - just me again - to say my driving has got a lot better since then. Not scary at all from this perspective...