What do you do when a Special Agent calls you? When he wants to set up a meeting? When he wants to go through a background check? Well, I got three Calls from a Special Agent this week asking me if I would be willing to meet him and go through a background check. Ummmmm, excuse me? I have thoughts fleeting through my mind that I am Keanu Reeves from Matrix, or James McAvoy in Wanted. I’m not even a pencil pusher in my office. I stand at my teller window and smile at everyone that walks past, cordially handling people’s transactions as they walk up or call in. A well trained monkey might very well be able to do my job. But a well trained monkey doesn’t get a call from Special Agents. What if I am being recruited to S.H.I.E.L.D.? Do I have super powers?!?! Oh, my gosh, I’M CHRIS EVANS!!! (looks down at slightly sagging belly and catch a glimpse of slender arms and frizzy, flyaway hair in the mirror) Nope, not Chris Evans. Green Lantern, maybe? No aliens means that is a no go. Maybe I got bit by a Spider! (reassess stomach) I’m no Peter Parker. I guess I’m just some guy Special Agent (name goes here) feels needs to be interviewed. Instead, I am simply a wannabe.
And since I am such a wannabe, I will have the world know; I wannabe a SPARTAN!!! So I freakin’ love history as it pertains to the human confrontation that shaped the world we live in. I appreciate stories of political intrigue, and really enjoy the economic concepts that drove so many of the changes, how religion impacted the immigration of masses influencing boundaries, changing world powers. But the lives of the warriors really has a draw for me. How did Viking berserkers live day-to-day, and train for the pressures of battle? What was the upbringing of Mongolian horseman under Ghengis Khan? Were Spartans of Immortals or Samurai simply cold and calculating men so ingrained in the duties and responsibilities of their calling that there was room for naught else? I am currently reading Gates of Fire, a novel about the Battle of Thermopylae, and I am loving it. It is the story of a single boy, a Greek whose home was destroyed by a false ally. As he departs his razed city, a man, delirious with fear and maddened by grief, screams out to him that the city would have been saved by but a score of Spartan, by a single Spartan. After living as a cityless free born for two years, ravaging the farms he could, at one point being caught and nailed by his hands to a board, he eventually travels to Sparta, believing that in them he will gain the courage, bravery, and training he needs to avenge the loss of his family when he was 10. I am coming near the climax of the story, and it is engaging and informative. It is like The Saxons Tales was for Norse warriors, or Birth of an Empire was for Mongols. Or Ender’s Ga- oh wait, sorry, that one is futuristic fiction. Sorry. But I am currently on my Spartan draw, and I, at this time, want to be the elite warrior of the Greek city states of old.
I would also like to talk about SNC graduation. It was held this past Sunday (Mother’s Day), and I was able to make it up for a few parties, and I got to see some people I hadn’t seen since I left, and some I hadn’t seen since my freshman year (Kaleigh!). I got to hug my school mom, visit with my Zumba instructor, hang out with my old staff, re-visit with my old forensics competition, watch Harry Potter with future graduate mates, and spend some quality time with my family line. I definitely did not get to see everyone, but there is next year for that. I will be back, my friends, on the beautiful campus beside the (probably toxic and mutated) Fox River.
For Mother’s Day, my mommy got up too early for me to make her breakfast, so I simply poured her a bowl of cereal, and, in quoting a Gaelic Storm song, asked if she could get a spaceship in her cereal bowl. I laughed at her telling her I could not do that for her, but when she turned her back I grabbed the nearest bottle of carbonated flavored water and began to cut out fins and wings from a cereal box (I don’t think I have ever typed cereal this many times in my life!), and taped them all together and made a fun little spaceship for my mum. She loved it. The only problem was that the cap was the nose, so it would only be able to go backwards. Oh well! It is still sitting in the fridge, cardboard and all. Well, at Festival today, a man was checking out and dropped a bottle of Fanta. It landed on its tip. It exploded and shot across the floor, straight into our teller counter. Bloody orange spaceships…
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