Plot of the Retro Bimbo Aliens, Log PiPlot of the Retro Bimbo Aliens, Log Pi by MSFHWraith
If this is the last log you all see from this, like if an astronaut finds our ship once the power's out and the cloaking device stops working and digs through it and sees these records, I want to start by making some apologies.
Mom, I was the one that knocked your signed photo of Pat Benetar off the mantle and ended up tearing a hole in it. I know that the cat I blamed died four years ago, but it was still wrong of me to make Nibbles take the fall.
Melissa, when I broke up with you it wasn't because I felt that I was weighing you down. I'm pretty sure you guessed that much. It was because that one time I went over to your house and saw you eat a sandwich made of peanut butter and Doritos. I know our relationship is too far gone to salvage, but maybe if you examine why you'd do something that disgusting, you can find someone that lives with your faults.
People of earth, I did what I could. If you're all brainwashed Gynarians now, I'm really, r
Plot of the Retro Bimbo Aliens, Log XiPlot of the Retro Bimbo Aliens, Log Xi by MSFHWraith
I was talking with Andrea about what happened over the last few days, and she told me about a literary device called foreshadowing. I'd seen it used before, but it was only after I looked over my old logs about Stephen or Steven or whatever that I really got it. So out of interest to my hopes that things don't get any worse, I'm not going to say that that comm chat that I had with our new fellow commander was the worst thing ever and that things couldn't possibly get any worse.
But it was really, really bad and it would be hard for me to think of anything worse than it. You all still need that perspective.
So when I left off last time, Sasha had just informed me that I was getting hailed from the other ship. There's another five minutes of me completely losing it that I think it's okay to skip, and doing so would leave me looking fairly composed as I accept the transmission.
The image quality between ships when we're not having to do a faster-than-light c
Plot of the Retro Bimbo Aliens, Log IotaPlot of the Retro Bimbo Aliens, Log Iota by MSFHWraith
So I kind of thought that his introduction would be the most cringe-inducing thing he'd say for the entire date, and that I'd gotten the worst of the night out of the way. I never knew that I could be so wrong. Everything Steven--I'm just going to call him Steven, since I never really got a straight answer out of him as to how to actually pronounce it--said was something he clearly thought would make me feel at ease or be impressed with him or some combination of the two. I don't want to go into every detail of what happened during dinner. I really don't. In fact, I've been looking into the possibility of finding a way to selectively erase bits of my memory so that it won't haunt me when I sleep. No luck yet. But I will give you a quick rundown of how it went, omitting a lot of the boring stuff.
So after he opened the door for me--and I'm really glad he actually did it, Andrea tells me that we got it recorded well enough that our super
Getting Back at L. Frank Baum
(Tin Person TF, statue TF, horse TF, balloon TF)
Stacie Soames couldn't wait until the end of play rehearsal. She had been pushed into joining the local theater group's production of “The Wizard of Oz” by its director (and her cousin), Veronica. And somehow, Stacie had managed to obtain the part of the Tin Man. Only she was going to a be a female version.
She was looking forward to the end of rehearsal when Penelope, the costume designer, was going to drop off her costume. Somehow this made the whole play/acting experience more real. Even though Stacie was twenty-six, she still often rued the fact that she had never been given parts in her school plays. The directors always used her for the pit bands or as an accompanist because she was such an excellent musician. This was nice and all, she always enjoyed playing the music. But just for once, she wanted control of the audience. She wanted to be up on stag
Transforming Womenby grapehyacinth
Part 1: Angela
3:00 A.M. Break time.
Angela hated working night shifts at the power plant. She had recently turned thirty, and she was frustrated with her life in general. She felt she was destined for bigger things, but right now she was stuck here, working the most boring job ever. She had all the science degrees in the world, and with them she was babysitting what the town of Ostville thought was the answer to everyone's money woes: a power plant.
Ostville boasted how little they paid for power because they were willing to have the plant to provide them with it. It was the safest facility in the world, they felt. And Dr. Simon Vance, the man in charge of it, treated the place like his own child.
Of course he was not usually there at three in the morning. Although she would never admit it to anyone, Angela almost wished he was. The dead of night was always the loneliest time here, and the chorus of birds heralding the dawn was always something
Transforming Women 2by grapehyacinth
Part 2: Nelly
Meet the women and learn of Angela's plight in the first part: Transforming Women
As Nelly made her way back to her office, her heart was beating wildly. She was trying to hold back her tears, but after experiencing some kind of power fluctuation in the power plant she worked at, she was concerned that something horrible was about to happen. Sylvie, her co-worker, was having a strange skin reaction, but Nelly herself didn't notice anything odd about her appearance – her skin and face looked fine when she glanced in the mirror. Her hair looked particularly healthy, in fact.
Yet her clothes were falling off of her. What could that possibly mean?
She shuffled down t
We 'R' ToysBy grapehyacinth
After two weeks of training, Julie and Rhea were officially couriers of South Street Shipping. Julie was proud of this. Rhea was not.
The two college grads both were at a dead end. Julie had lost several jobs, and Rhea hadn't even been employed yet. When Julie informed her that South Street was hiring, Rhea scoffed at this. “I didn't get a college degree to go carry stuff around.”
“Well, I don't see anyone else offering you a job. And I need to make money somehow if I want to stay in this apartment with you. They pay really well at the courier service.”
“For being a glorified mailman? Ridiculous.”
“Until something better comes along, I'm doing it. And if you want to pay your rent without your mom helping you out, you might want to also.”
Donned in their new South Street uniforms – a gray shirt and slacks, the two girls made their way to their first destination. It was an old brick building on the edge of a ba
Arin the Genie Part 1, Origin Story
On a crisp spring morning, Arin went out to the park at her college because her boyfriend Ben wanted to meet her there. Arin happened to have a lull moment in her procrastination, and she knew that Ben was not rehearsing today for the play he was in. They met at the usual place, a wooden bench that was perfectly situated by a lake on campus. It as secluded as it got, and the traffic to and from classes died down since it was late afternoon.
Arin was feeling rather chipper, so she wore a crimson blouse that complimented her short fiery orange hair. She let her hair get frizzy because it was so short that it was low maintenance but she could still make it work. A pair of blue jeans and sandals finished the ensemble.
She saw Ben sitting on the bench already holding a brown sack with that look of hiding something he could not wait to show. He was wearing a camo t-shirt he bought online that said "No camping" and had a picture of two stick figures, one backstabbing a sniper. The brun
Jack in The Toy BoxJack Robertson went to the mall that Christmas week because he had nothing else to do. He threw on a worn leather jacket Batman t-shirt, jeans, and favorite sneakers then walked to the local mall just to browse around. He went to a comic store at first to skim some graphic novels that caught his eye. He then went over to the budget DVD store looked at the movies but saw nothing worth spending money on, and finally he got a smoothie from the food court. Jack managed one productive investment on this trip, he got a winter haircut. They trimmed his black hair short but not so short that Jackie Frost didn’t caress his head to close. The young woman whom gave him the haircut wouldn't stop talking to him about how tall he was or his hazel eyes. Jack might find himself going there more often. Even that though could not solve this incurable loneliness he had.
He was in a new town, away from family and he didn’t have the money now to go see them. They really didn’t have the mo