#remember that scene in spongebob where he takes a sheet of paper put it in his mouth and a paper crane comes out? thats what i did with the

[olistar255]

more funky takes on pikmin designs. these guys are just SO malleable

[dcarevu]

Batman TAS: Mad as a Hatter

“Why don’t you go do something useful like… Oh, go jump in the river.”

Episode: 27 Robin: No Writer: Paul Dini Director: Frank Paur Animator: Akom Airdate: October 12, 1992 Grade: B

I was in high school when Tim Burton’s version of Alice in Wonderland showed up in theaters, and like almost everyone I knew, I could not have been more excited. I really loved the Disney version, and considering that the man involved with Beetlejuice, The Nightmare Before Christmas, Batman, and more would be giving us his take on it right as I was starting to move toward my emo-scene phase, it was a dream come true. Even now, on paper, this seems like the perfect recipe, doesn’t it? But I think most of us can agree that it just didn’t meet expectations. The first time I watched it, I wouldn’t admit to myself that I wasn’t a fan. It was dark, and strange, and Tim Burton + Alice in Wonderland. Everything I wanted! As a developing emo kid, I was supposed to like it! The reason I bring this up is because Batman the Animated Series being fused with Alice in Wonderland seems like another fantasy-combination that would have no way to turn out subpar. Mad as a Hatter is an episode that, for the most part, actually gets a lot of praise. Alas (or, for the sake of the pun, Alice), maybe the idea seemed a little bit too easy, making it easier to over-shoot, missing the mark. This is another episode featuring a crazy set-piece at the end, but it is also another episode that was handed to Akom. Christ, why. Of all the episodes. All the episodes. Why is it some of the ones with the highest reliance on visuals? This episode involved not just complicated, creative visuals, but incredibly weird ones as well that needed to be animated just right to not look like subjects from one’s fever dreams. You wanna know how that turned out? Well, I heard an, “Oh my god!” from Char as the walrus and the carpenter made their appearances. While that did make me laugh quite hard, and Akom definitely got the weirdness down, it should have looked like intentional weirdness. Beyond the animation, the story is actually decent. It is Paul Dini, so what can you really expect. But even here, I would not call it A-level material. Some strange dialogue/delivery choices, and other leaps of logic/strains on the suspension of disbelief take away from it and leave me feeling extremely neutral.

Okay, so after that paragraph above was written, I went and took the screenshots from my DVD. I was surprised. The DVD looks so much better than the Blu Ray here. This was the case with The Clock King too, and I fear it is starting to seem like a pattern. I think it all comes down to the Blu Ray release looking too clean, and way too bright at times. Because of course, the DVD is in lower definition. Shadows are lightened so that we can see all of the imperfections of Akom’s drawings. Smudges and dirt are removed, giving the people a plastic look at times. It’s not the way the show was meant to be watched (as I said, probably VHS would be my preferred way of viewing if that were feasible). This puts me in an interesting spot, because I paid near $100 for the set, and also, some episodes look absolutely phenomenal. But is it worth it when some look like absolute crap? The great-looking shows look godly. The mediocre-looking ones look horrible. I was ready to tear into how Mad as a Hatter looked and rip it a new one, but now I do not think that would be fair. No, the animation here isn’t perfect. But it’s passable. And I think that’s worth something given the frequency at which I complain about Akom. At this point, I have watched up to Robin’s Reckoning. From here, I honestly might start using the ol’ dvd’s again. It’s unfortunate, but if I go back to specific episodes that I love later on, then I’ll use the Blu Ray. Remember, I am watching these with Char who has never seen the DCAU before. I want the series to make the best possible impression, and even with the best plot ever, a bad-looking episode can make a disappointing episode. Merely getting the episodes at a higher definition, but leaving them dirty and dark would have been my preferred solution. Anyway, back to talking about the episode itself (and yes, this does slightly affect how I see the episode. At first I was giving it a C. But I think I’ll have to bump it up to B territory).

We start with episode with some cute-ass mice, only to then be introduced to a face that a mother would have a hard time loving. Jervis Tetch, aka The Mad Hatter, is a character-design, alright. I think I know what they were going for, though. He has this kooky look that makes him stand out from every other character. He certainly looks like he could play someone from Wonderland. But the problem I think comes from Akom (ironic given that last paragraph, huh?). This design could probably work, but he has such an odd model, so I think they had a tough time animating him. Or maybe he simply does not translate to movement very well in general, and there was a problem the moment his model sheet was created. Regardless, he can be pretty tough to look at sometimes. Other times, though, he does have that level of whacky which I would hope would be in an episode based on Alice in Wonderland. But we see that Jervis is working on some mind-control technology while also being smitten for a girl that works in his office named Alice. Unfortunately, Alice has a boyfriend, and like many sociopaths in real life, Jervis is not okay with this, taking matters into his own hands. First of all, her name being Alice is kinda stupid, and Char agrees. It takes parallels a little bit too far, and Char noted that it would have been more subtle if her name were something like Alycia. Alice is one of the only people that Jervis feels is nice to him, so if we follow the most sound of incel-logic, she owes him her heart, mind, and body. Not only is she nice to him, but, again, her name is Alice. And it would not surprise me if this were a main factor of why Jervis is into her. He has an Alice in Wonderland poster in his office, he takes her to a theme park of sorts that has a section which is themed after the book, he owns a Mad Hatter costume (or perhaps he obtained this from the park), he quotes the book regularly, etc. He is clearly obsessed. When we reach the point where he mentions that it is one of his favorite stories, it’s like, “Wow! No kidding!” He is not quite wired into reality, likely developing this obsession at an early age to escape from life’s burdens. But Wonderland has burdens of its own.

Jervis ends up using these mind-control cards that he created (another Alice in Wonderland-related thing) to make people basically do his bidding. He first uses them on two thugs attempting to rob him and Alice, forcing them to climb up on top of a bridge and jump into the river. Batman catches notice of this through a police broadcast, and to my surprise, the show mentions a possible suicide in progress. How often do you hear a family cartoon like this use the word “suicide”? I think this is the only time I have ever heard it, despite references occasionally popping up in shows like Spongebob. He then uses more cards on his coworkers, Alice’s fiancé, and Alice herself, creating an army of Alice in Wonderland-themed warriors to defend him from Batman when Batman finds out what’s going on and sets after him. He wants Alice all to himself, and is willing to do whatever possible to obtain her. The final battle takes place in the theme park, the big set-piece of the episode. It’s got some great looking background paintings that 100% capture the tone of the book. It is a shame that the animation done by Akom couldn’t hold up to Radomski’s work. We have moments such as Batman balancing on top of the walls of a playing card maze that I wish stressed me out a little bit more. But because of how stilted the movement is, Batman never really seems like he is having a tough time keeping balance, even though we clearly see him struggling. The fight scenes could also be much better, with more impact felt. The odd costumes that most everyone is wearing makes for some really distorted-looking characters, and it’s clear that not a lot of time was spent making them look quite right. At the same time, though, between the subject material, the gimmicks, the overall surreal nature, and the background art, it is still a lot of fun to watch, even if it is in a more campy way. It is not an episode to be taken extremely seriously. This can be a problem with Batman. The tone can fluctuate greatly from episode to episode. At the beginning, it did not matter as much. Right away we had varying quality and seriousness. I mean, we went from On Leather Wings to Christmas With the Joker. But now we are getting gothic masterpieces like Two-Face, so episodes like Mad as a Hatter feel jarring as hell. It is an episode I enjoyed more on second watch as I gathered screenshots. I loosened up and let myself have fun with it.

The Mad Hatter fails to be a sympathetic villain like I feel they might have been going for, but I do enjoy him being so delusional and sociopathic. When Alice mentions her boyfriend, he gets this scary scowl, and you know at that moment that this is no character you want to root for. When Alice’s boyfriend temporarily breaks up with her, rather than attempting to comfort her and being upset over her sorrow, he jumps for joy because he has a chance to finally swoop in (the epitome of an Internet “nice guy”). When she gets back together with her boyfriend, turned fiancé, he squeezes a bouquet of roses in frustration so hard that he bleeds. I think they were able to get away with this portion because maybe the blood could have passed off as liquid from the flowers? Which doesn’t really make a lot of sense, but for the sake of the blood being included, um, sure. It was definitely rose-goo, guys. Not blood at all… And he also blames Batman for why things ended up the way they did, even though Batman had virtually nothing to do with anything until the very end. He decided to mind-control everyone because he was being a spoiled little piss-baby who could not let the girl he supposedly loves be happy. Char did not care for the character, and jokingly mentioned that he was appropriating the Mad Hatter, doing things that he would never do. Like some batshit crazy super-fan who feels sooo connected with a character, but actually doesn’t understand them at all.

Not a perfect episode, but a grower.

See? Cute-ass mice!

Wow, I didn’t realize that we were watching Attack on Titan. (Joke inspired by Char).

The poster on the wall matches the title card/an actual illustration from the book. It’s actually a pretty dope poster.

A variety of shots showing Jervis’ face. See how inconsistent it is? It is a little similar to the Pokémon Drilbur, where it only works 2D. Adding an element of 3D illusion (such as movement) causes it to fall apart.

Oh, sure, go and rob them right after you see Batman drive by. That’s always smart.

“Please, Mr. Hat. Go easy on us.” The delivery here was wicked funny. It was so monotone, and sounded like he was faking.

I quite like this facial expression. His smile reminds me of the Cheshire Cat.

Batman + Taco Bell

I love the panic in Batman’s voice as he tries to stop them from jumping off of the bridge. It shows how concerned he is with keeping them safe.

They were able to animate this shimmer pretty damn well. Then again, how hard could it be?

A very subtle recreation of the illustration/title card.

I don’t think the background here quite comes together, the composition is off. Still neat to look at.

A close-up of the illustration.

Now this is an ugly facial expression. Gross! And it’s not like this was a quick frame. It was there long enough to notice.

This shot has a lovely glow to it. It looks quite nice. 

One of the only times they were able to get away with blood. Um. Oops. I meant flower-goo! It’s flower-goo, guys! The blood drips right onto Billy’s face. As if a hit were put on him. Awesome detail.

“Oh, do be quiet!”

Bruce whispers “Congratulations.” in such a goobery way. I love it. 

The shadow of the plants shifted in some wonky-looking ways. Also, when the Mad Hatter and Batman both arrive on the scene, she says, “This is getting too weird.” But she says it so nonchalantly. Not the best delivery.

Very sloppy-looking drawings of their faces. These costumes, though. 

Cool impact here. He just decimates that wood. I’m not sure if Storybook Land has the safest costumes. 

This is some enjoyable stuff right here. I had a lot of fun with this portion.

“Off with his head!” I should have counted how many times this line was said.

Perfect example if how cool the painted visuals are paired with some mediocre animation. Hell, I’m pretty sure Batman’s run was recycled for two of these stills.

Gee, I wonder which cards are going to move. Great Mad Hatter, pose, though. This is what I wish he looked like all the time!

The looming Jabberwock ends up falling on him, ending the adventure through Wonderland. 

There’s no reversing the damage, Jervis. You’ll never talk with her again. Was it worth it? Also, his hair totally changed color at one point. Um... Maybe he dyed it?

Char’s grade: D Next time: Dreams in Darkness

Full episode list here!

[glasskaleidoscopes]

Chapter 3 - Sunday, August 30th, 2009

***Trigger warning in this chapter. It depicts some violence. 

Carolyn woke up to a loud bang. Her heart began racing and beads of sweat formed at her forehead. She bolted up in bed and ran to her brother’s room. Sam was sitting up in bed near tears. “It’s okay Sam, it’s okay. You stay here, I’ll go find out what that was.” Carolyn tried to calm her little brother down, but she knew exactly what the bang was. While she had never heard one in person, she knew what she heard was a gunshot. Carolyn was also acutely aware that immediately after the shot, she heard a large thump onto the floor. Carolyn felt her heart thumping out of her chest as she inched her way towards her dad’s room. Carolyn tried the knob, but the door was locked. Carolyn pulled her phone out of her pocket and turned on the flashlight. She dropped to the ground and peered under her father’s door. The room was dark, but her flashlight illuminated a sliver of the room enough, and all she could see was red. She listened at the door for any movement, but was quiet and made sure not to further spook her brother. She dialed 9-1-1 on her cell phone and impatiently waited as the phone rang.

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

“I think my father just shot himself.”

*****

Carolyn tried calling her mom to no avail. It didn’t surprise her; she hadn’t heard from her in over 2 years. She had no idea where she was, or if she was even alive. Neither of her parents had any siblings, and her grandparents were dead before Carolyn ever had the chance to remember him. This left her with no idea where to go, or who to turn to. She thought about her friends. Sallie’s parents would be happy to help, but Carolyn knew that their family didn’t have enough money to support Carolyn and Sam. Carolyn knew the Brudowski household was big and hectic, but she also knew that Vera’s father made a lot of money, and they had a very large home. Carolyn called Vera, and when she picked up, Carolyn immediately asked to speak to her mom. Vera was very confused, but complied once she recognized the urgency in Carolyn’s voice.

“Mrs. Brudowski, I need you to come take my brother Sam. He’s only 10 years old and he can’t know what just happened.” Carolyn explained in a low and serious tone.

She heard Janet Brudowski get into her car door before she responded, “What happened? I’m on my way now.”

“Something happened with my father, and I really want you to take Sam before the police and the ambulance get here.” Carolyn quickly explained. While Janet Brudowski was often rushing around taking her various children to different events, or getting dinner ready for her hoard, she was a very compassionate woman. She was the one person Carolyn had broken down to about her mom; it happened one morning when Carolyn had slept over at Vera’s and had woken up before she did. This was very early into their friendship, and Carolyn hadn’t talked to anyone about her mom. Ever since then, Janet had a soft spot for the Sanders family, and often prayed for their safety. Clearly the praying was not helping.

A short 5 minutes later, Janet peeled into the apartment complex where Carolyn lived, after having driven much faster than she should have been allowed. Carolyn had rushed to pack as much of Sam’s belongings as possible in a suitcase she found under his bed. Sam still looked worried, but Carolyn was letting him talk all about the Cubs, which distracted him enough. Carolyn heard the Brudowski car horn, and she rushed a somewhat confused Sam out of the apartment. “Okay Sam, you remember Mrs. Brudowski, right? We went to their house for your classmate Brittany’s birthday party, remember? They had the yummy strawberry cake, and Mrs. Brudowski was so nice letting us stay over when dad didn’t pick us up, remember?” Sam nodded uneasily, “So we’re going to stay with the Brudowskis for now, and I will be right behind you, but I forgot to pack my things. You’re going to go with her, and I’ll see you before you know it.” Carolyn explained at lightning speed as she opened the car door. Janet looked at Carolyn with a worried look, but then she noticed police sirens in her rear-view mirror. Carolyn shot Mrs. Brudowski a look of panic, and Janet understood that they needed to get out as soon as possible. Carolyn slammed the car door and watched as Mrs. Brudowski drove out of the complex just before the police turned in.

What happened next felt like it happened in slow motion. Carolyn turned and went back into the apartment. For a few seconds, the apartment was eerily quiet. Then she heard a large thumping on the door. When she opened the door, the ambulance was just pulling in front of the complex. Two large policemen smiled and said hello to Carolyn, and she quickly introduced herself. She quickly explained that her father’s door was locked and she couldn’t open the door. The two men knocked loudly on the door and called out to Carolyn’s father Peter; Carolyn knew there would be no answer. After a few seconds, the men jiggled the doorknob and then after a few shoulder thrusts to the door, broke it open. Carolyn stood in the entranceway to the kitchen, just across the hall from her father’s room. When the door was broken in, Carolyn immediately felt nauseous. She caught a glimpse of her father lying motionless in a large pool of dark red blood, with a small handgun laying in the carpet just beyond his hand. The paramedics rushed into the apartment with a stretcher. The two policemen turned away when they heard the paramedics come in, and they each placed a hand on Carolyn’s shoulders and ushered her into the apartment and away from the scene.

The policemen talked amongst themselves while the paramedics were in Peter’s room, but Carolyn just stared at her hands. A few minutes later, one paramedic came out into the living room, while the second wheeled the stretcher with a large black body bag lying on it. The paramedic wheeled the stretcher out of the apartment quickly while the first paramedic attempted to shield Carolyn’s view, but she saw everything. The first paramedic leant down on her knees and looked into Carolyn’s face. She opened her mouth, but Carolyn interrupted her before she could speak.

“My dad is dead, isn’t he?” Carolyn asked a question for which she already knew the answer. The paramedic nodded her head solemnly. One of the policemen put his large hand on Carolyn’s slight shoulder again, “Where is your mom, sweetie?”

Carolyn turned to the policeman, “I haven’t heard from her in almost 2 years. I called my friend’s mom earlier, and she took my brother back to her home. I was wondering if you could drop me off there? They’re the closest thing I have to family.” Carolyn remained stoic.

The two policemen exchanged looks and nodded in agreement. As this was happening, the paramedic rubbed her hand on Carolyn’s knee and quietly left the apartment. “We can take you to your friend’s house. We’ll need to talk to your friend’s mom when we get there, since you’re a minor.” Carolyn nodded her head once.

“I need a couple minutes to pack up my stuff.” Carolyn said.

“That’s fine, in the meantime, can you give me your mom’s phone number?” The second policeman asked. Carolyn wrote down the number then went into her room and packed up whatever she could grab as silent tears streamed down her face. In the background, she heard the policeman leave a message on her mother’s phone, explaining that it would be in her best interest to call them back.

Carolyn wiped her moist face before she emerged from her room with a large suitcase and her backpack on her back. She silently followed the policemen to the police car. One of the officers put her suitcase in the trunk, and the other opened the back door for her. The ride to the Brudowski’s was fairly quiet, except for when one of the officers asked Carolyn, “Do you have any idea where your mom is?” Nothing else was said after Carolyn shook her head and quietly replied “No.”

Carolyn opened the door to the Brudowski home and found seven children arranged on the large couches of the Brudowski living room. The room was quiet, with old reruns of SpongeBob SquarePants filling the silent air. Most of the Brudowski boys were sitting on their phones, except for Adrian. He was sitting next to Sam, listening to him chatter on about the Cubs. When Sam saw his sister come into the room, he ran over to her and hugged her. Janet Brudowski rushed out of the kitchen to greet Carolyn, and saw the two policemen behind her.

“Are you Mrs. Brudowski?”

“Yes, I’m Janet Brudowski.” The kind women replied and shook both of the officers’ hands.

“Could we go somewhere private to chat?”

“Yes, follow me.” Janet led the two officers into the dining room beyond the kitchen. The officers were talking in low voices, but if you listened carefully, you could hear Janet’s stifled sobs. Carolyn sat on the couch and pulled her brother close to her. His mood had shifted to being much more somber than when Carolyn first entered. Then did she noticed all the Brudowski children were wearing nice clothes, and she realized that it was Sunday morning and she had interrupted the Brudowski church ritual.

After about 15 minutes, Janet emerged from the dining room, shook the two police officers’ hands, and said a terse goodbye. She was clutching a few sheets of paper and asked Carolyn and Sam to come talk with her in the dining room. Carolyn arose from the couch and held her brother’s hand as they felt six pairs of eyes on them while they left the room. They all sat down at the beautiful and large dining table. Carolyn quickly spoke up, “I’d like to tell Sam.” Mrs. Brudowski slowly nodded, “As long as you’re sure, honey.” Carolyn shot Mrs. Brudowski a knowing look before turning to her brother.

“Sam, dad is dead.” Carolyn said abruptly while remaining stone-faced. Sam’s eyes widened and his face and arms crumpled onto the dining table as he melted into sobs. Carolyn’s eyes glistened with tears as she rubbed Sam’s back, allowing him to let out his emotions, something Carolyn desperately needed to do. Surprisingly, Mr. Brudowski walked into the room, wearing a trim suit and Mrs. Brudowski ushered him into the next room, giving him a quick rundown of the current situation and why the family had not met him at church. Brad Brudowski then came back into the dining room, with Janet close behind. Brad easily lifted Sam’s crumpled body up from the dining table and carried him to the master bedroom. Janet remained at the table with the ever-steady Carolyn, and she reached out and grabbed Carolyn’s hand.

“You and Sam can stay here, no time limit to how long you’ll stay. I signed some paperwork with the police, which gives me temporary legal custody over you and your brother. I say temporary because if the police get ahold of your mother and find that she is fit to take you, then you’ll stay with her.” This last comment caused two fat tears to roll down Carolyn’s flushed cheeks.

“Do you think they’ll be able to find my mom? I miss her so much.” Carolyn was almost inaudible with her second sentence, and then her voice broke and she shut her eyes tight, trying to hold back the floodgates. Mrs. Brudowski got up and walked around to Carolyn’s side of the table and leant down so she was eye level to Carolyn.

“Honey I don’t know. I’m so sorry,” Janet’s voice broke, and Carolyn wrapped her arms around the motherly figure she had so been craving. Carolyn started sobbing uncontrollably, and Brad came back into the room. Brad then picked up Carolyn and carried her so she could be with her brother, with Janet following behind him. Brad slowly placed Carolyn on the bed and she wrapped her arms around her brother, who was sniffling and quietly crying. Brad left the room, and Janet sat at the head of the bed. Carolyn shifted so her head was in Janet’s lap, and Sam’s head rested against Carolyn’s chest. The two children spent the majority of the next hour crying, while Janet ran her hands through their hair, and offered them tissues periodically.

After about an hour and a half, the Sanders siblings had fallen asleep on Brad and Janet’s bed. Janet slipped out from under Carolyn’s head, replacing her lap with a pillow. Janet quietly closed the bedroom door and was surprised to find six of her seven children still on the couches in the living room. What surprised her most was that her often-absent husband was sitting with the kids, quietly watching SpongeBob with them. As Janet entered the living room, all of the Brudowski’s turned their attention to the matriarch of the household. A few moments passed, then Brittany timidly asked, “mom, what’s going on? Dad told us to wait for you.”

Janet let out a quick sigh, then she sat on an ottoman that faced the rest of the couches, “Mr. Sanders committed suicide this morning. Carolyn and Sam will be staying with us from now on.” The children’s faces fell at the news, with Trixie and Brittany, the two younger daughters, starting to cry. Brad walked over to the girls and pulled them both into his lap.

Andrew spoke next, “What about their mom?” His deep voice felt intrusive in the somber environment.

After a few beats, Janet spoke again, “Carolyn said she hasn’t seen or heard from her mother for about 2 years and has no idea where she is. If their mother surfaces, I am sure they will live with her, but until then, they’ll stay here. They will both stay in John’s room, we’ll buy another bed for them, but they should be comfortable in there regardless.” The children nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation.

“You all need to be very careful. Carolyn may try to put on a brave face, but remember that she just lost her father and is still hurting immensely. She won’t want you to treat her with kid gloves, but remember to be sensitive around topics like her family, guns, and blood. So boys, no shooting video games until I say it’s okay.” The older twins looked resigned, but Jaret sat up ready to protest. “There is no arguing about this. If I find out that any of you, girls as well, are playing those video games, I will take away all of your electronics for a month and you will have to write a letter to the Sanders siblings apologizing.” There was a reason Janet was able to control a household with seven children, with little help from her husband. Jaret gave up his protest and sat back into the couch.

“Finally, you do need to be really careful around Sam. He’s Brittany’s age, so he doesn’t quite understand everything that happened as well as Carolyn does. As Adrian has already found out,” Janet lovingly looked at her son, “Sam loves the Cubs and baseball, so you can all help by listening and participating in his sports talk. If Sam has a baseball game on the t.v., no one is allowed to change the channel; and if he asks to watch a baseball game, you all will quickly change the channel and let him watch. Come to me and ask for one of the iPads if you are the one who changes the channel for Sam, understood?” The kids nodded their heads, with a few of them cracking a small smile.

“I know this is going to be difficult for everyone, but it’ll only be one more person in this house than we’re used to. As you all know, God doesn’t give you more than you can handle. We’re going to go to the afternoon mass today, since we missed this morning’s service.” All of the kids squirmed, they hated the fact that their Sunday afternoon was now being taken away.

“Someone should stay here with Carolyn and Sam.” Vera spoke for the first time since her friend’s brother had walked in.

“Carolyn and Sam will come to mass with us, they need God more than any of us do right now.” Janet explained. Vera’s head was about to explode, but she knew to keep quiet. When it came to church, none of the children had tried to defy their mother since 3 years ago, when John refused to go. After 10 straight minutes of Janet’s shrill voice screaming bible verses and going on about how important church is, and how much trouble he would be in if he stayed, John quickly got dressed and was ready in time to join the rest of his family for mass.

A few short hours later, half of the family climbed into the newer three-row van with Janet, and the other half of the family climbed into the older van with Andrew. Brad followed the caravan with Carolyn in the passenger’s seat. She knew Vera would want to talk to her, and she needed just a little longer before she could muster up the courage to address her friend. Mass went by agonizingly slowly, as this was a completely new experience for Carolyn and Sam. They had been to church fairly regularly before their mom left, but it was a protestant church, and the services were never more than an hour long. Eventually, the service was over and the Brudowski family plus the Sanders children were back to the large home, and each child went off to do their own thing. The house was abnormally quiet all evening, with almost no one speaking during dinner. A few words were exchanged about how much homework Adrian and Andrew had to complete for Monday. Carolyn abruptly stood up halfway through dinner and muttered that she was not hungry. She covered her face as she ran upstairs to John’s room. Sam quickly followed behind her. After that, the family was silent for the rest of the meal.

As the children were setting down their utensils, Brad spoke up, “Boys, you did nothing wrong. It’s still so early.” While Brad was a man of few words, he often knew exactly what to say. The twins nodded and smiled at their father. Each child helped clean up after dinner while their mother checked on the Sanders children. They were lying together in John’s bed, with Carolyn stroking Sam’s arm. Janet returned a few moments later with two glasses of water and a large box of tissues. She briefly left again and returned with a portable boombox; she pressed play, and the room filled with quiet piano sonatas. She left the room after whispering to Carolyn to come get her if she needed anything.

[pisati]

I feel like I want to write something, but I don’t know what.

my thoughts always stray back to that one year, and those few years that followed, but not out of any kind of longing anymore. it was a lot that happened that was entirely new to me. there’s been so much nothing lately. and my tendency for the last few years to think back on the few good things had me replaying them over and over. it seems kind of hashed out at this point. what good does it do me to remember?

I barely remember it, at that. I barely remember yesterday. the only thing keeping my memory of 5 or so years ago fresh is timehop. I don’t even remember tweeting half the shit I tweeted last year. maybe since I’ve spent the last few years re-reading everything from years previous, that’s slightly more ingrained. most of each day going by is complaining about school work, trying to let out my thoughts on my metaphysics assignments so I could work through them (since I had nobody to talk to about it). the few tweets alluding to things that happened. I’m about to come up on 5 years since T and I were anything. timehop reminded me that this time two years ago he’d called me in an effort to stay more connected to his friends, and I was gutted to realize that I’d made his contact picture the picture of us at point state park, sitting on the edge of the fountain. charlotte had taken the picture; both of us blinded by the sunlight and the wind whipping my hair back across his face. I didn’t like the picture itself much but I looked so goddamn happy; of course I kept it. I had no recollection of even setting it as his contact photo, though, and I probably wouldn’t have remembered anyway, since what conversations we did have anymore were mostly through facebook messenger. but then he called. 

I’m a little embarrassed now, thinking back. feeling so strongly over something that only lasted, what, 5 or so weeks? we hardly knew each other. we wouldn’t have worked out anyway. I spent so long in such a melancholy over him. I guess it’s just like that when it��s the first time anyone genuinely seems to give a shit about you. I really wasn’t keen on letting it go. going back to this. what has been this for the last 5 years. 5 years now. geez.

maybe a little bit of a weird analogy, but there’s that scene in that one old episode of spongebob where squidward travels forwards and backwards in time and when he tries to escape he breaks the time machine; things get real noisy and weird for a few seconds before it all disappears and goes silent. and there’s nothing. that’s kind of what this contrast feels like. so much, then nothing. it can feel like a relief at times, but at others the silence is deafening. the aloneness is so intensely magnified in it. where’s the time machine? where’s anything? where, where, where?

I do almost miss that filthy little house on 10th street. I had bought slippers with puppy heads on the fronts to wear around the house because I would have wanted to chop my own feet off touching those floors in bare feet. the day I moved in was the first time I saw it, and I cried, ha. I did what I could with it. I had moved in two days before my 19th birthday. I was so anxious I made myself sick from not eating. my one housemate was kind enough to take me to the store to get light foods I could eat, plus ginger ale. I could barely walk, I remember. we may have taken a walk on my birthday, and I felt so weak. once I got my room settled, though, it started to feel better. I remember everything still being a mess; I had hardly had the energy to put clothes away, and I had to go buy light-blocking curtains from walmart because the streetlight outside my window made my bedroom glow orange at night. but I remember curling up in bed next to my overflowing nightstand, and pulling out my copy of The Book Thief. I laid there and read and read. I latched on to the main character, seeing her through new eyes. she was so strong through so much adversity, at such a young age. she was frightened too. imagine having your whole world upended like that. that’s kind of what it felt like to me, anyway. she could do it. I could be like her.

that bed was fucking awful. we could only have furniture that our landlord provided, and it was all old, shitty furniture from god only knew where. my twin bedframe was low to the ground, I had I think a boxspring and a mattress, and it was so noisy. every time I moved it creaked. mom didn’t feel like buying me a new bed set either, so I had to make do with my XL twin set from my dorm. every few weeks I’d have to take everything off my bed and re-position the fitted sheet. I had so many goddamn pillows, but it wasn’t too big a deal, since up until the end of march I was the only one in my bed. the house was designed so poorly too. sometimes I ended up using the toilet with one foot up on the bathtub, because it was so tiny that I couldn’t sit comfortably without hitting my knees or sitting at an angle. I learned to appreciate the spiders that made their webs in the corners above the tub. sometimes it smelled like cigarettes; probably because kids would smoke behind our house and my roommate would turn the fan on when he showered. I swear the kitchen floor was at an angle. the time the construction workers tore out our front stoop with no warning and we had to start using the side door that we shared with the driveway for the pizza place next door; I remember being afraid I’d forget the step down and fall on one of the delivery cars. we didn’t know when trash day was so we’d just put our trash in the pizza place’s dumpster. I’m sure we weren’t supposed to, but nobody said anything.

so many good small-town memories. just nice things to look back on, you know? so sometimes it’s nice to just sit in it. remember the uncomfortable heat. the smell of the shampoo and conditioner that came in those huge pump bottles. the apple cinnamon glade candles I used to make my room smell less like the rest of the dirty old house; that very distinct smell. how the walk to my nearest class was literally across the street, rather than 20 minutes. the walk down to carriage house at three in the morning; looking up and seeing the moon; feeling like we shared some late-night secret. drunk sheetz, hot chocolate and everything bagels from the starbucks at folger hall. so many hours in rehearsal; the echoes in the stairwell down to the bass/cello storage room. commonplace. midnight jesus cakes. the feeling of pure joy I got from knowing my professors genuinely enjoyed teaching me and that I genuinely enjoyed learning from them; how they pushed me to reach higher, even if it was away from them. how my orchestra professors were sad I was leaving; I was such a mediocre cellist but they just enjoyed having a non-major so invested in it. I can’t even describe the feeling I got when I visited my old philosophy department the fall after I graduated from UMD, and my first philosophy professor remembered me and was so thrilled that I got such a good education at the school where he got his PhD. he knew I was going to do well there; he wrote my letter of recommendation that I’m sure got me accepted. he even stopped the department director in the hall, and she remembered me too, even though she’d only taught one of my classes for half the semester, covering for my professor who’d had surgery. she knew I’d wanted to transfer, but put in the paperwork for my philosophy minor anyway. I was happy that she seemed genuinely happy to hear I’d done so well too. I couldn’t even believe she remembered me. 

things are really different on campus now; they’ve torn down some old buildings that I’d had classes in and built new ones. the philosophy department is in one of the new buildings; it used to be in the administration building, and I’d tutored symbolic logic there. one day I think I was waiting in an office for anyone from my class to show up and I heard cello music coming from downstairs; there’s a recital hall in that building as well, and I knew I recognized my orchestra’s first-chair cellist practicing. I remember sitting there, smiling to myself, thinking good on you, Steve, it sounds great. that was the building I got my acceptance letter in. standing in one of the side hallways, they called each of our names and handed us envelopes with our decisions in them. it’s a very unique acceptance program; the only university I know of where you can do very early admissions, like, early October, when typical early acceptances don’t start going out until late winter or early spring, if you bring all your physical application materials to campus and they tour you around while your application gets reviewed. I remember being nervous to open my letter, even though I didn’t have a doubt I’d get in. mom started crying as soon as she saw me smile; I think it was more my baby got into college than oh thank god, at least my dumbass kid can get in somewhere, ha. I was just relieved it was over and done with. I still have my letter, I think. dated October 10th, 2011. it congratulates me on my acceptance into the school of health and human services with the intention to study interior design. how far we’ve come, hm?

these things, I remember. I’m not sure how that works. my long-term memory is better, I think. sometimes. maybe it’s because I made those memories before things got bad. they were formed properly. stored properly. at least, more so than now. I remember the topics of my midterm and final thesis papers in both philosophy of language and metaphysics, 6 and 5 years ago, respectively, but hell if I can remember anything I did three days ago.

I guess it’s time to sleep, though. I took a little nap earlier which was a mistake, so now I’m up at 5am. such is life.