Monday, May 8, 2017

When Cheese Cried and Caliburs Exploded and lost the letter 'E'

When it came to being a teen adolescent, you think the oddest and most bizzare things are the funniest. In Middle School, my mom forced my siblings and I to attend summer school, regardless of our regular school year GPA. It was a way for my mom to have a sitter during the day and not worry about her children "wasting their summer away in front of a television screen". There was a silver lining to our summer school torture period. Each morning before school and each evening after, my cousin Henry was dropped off and picked up by his dad which meant basically, we spent five out of the seven days in a week with my cousin. Now, my cousin is not your average run-of-the-mill sibling. He's not even, technically our cousin. His dad married my aunt while we were all at a young age, so Henry and his siblings were always there to be apart of our family and was treated as if they were too.
Anyway, when you put Henry and myself in a room with the strangest and off-beat items, we tend to make the most of it. One evening, when Henry was waiting for his pick up, we went for our usual after school snack which was a slice of cheese or usually melting American cheese on tortilla chips (No we didn't live in a trailer park) This evening, we stumbled upon a bad pack of cheese. The top slice of the cheese cube had a small speck of mold growing on its surface. It just so happened that it was in the perfect shape of a tear drop. Long story short, that's how crying cheese came to be.

In high school, I partook in almost every theatre production I could, starting from my first production "HONK!" To my final, "South Pacific" all four years of high school. Usually, every January of each school year, our theatre troupe would go to a local college or venue of sorts for a thespian conference. Thespian is technically a grown-up name for actor.
So, a group of us students and our theatre director went one weekend in January to this conference. This happened to be my first year attending. On the drive there, a bunch of the girls, who usually thought very highly of themselves, started giving on these cute little nicknames to their other peers, mainly the boys they thought were cute. I never adopted a name until halfway through the conference. I'm not a lady's man kind of guy. I love movies and comic books too much for women to be apart of that obsession.
One evening when we broke away for lunch in the mess hall of whatever college we were visiting. This college happened to have a small arcade area just off the main mess hall/cafeteria. One of the games that existed in this arcade was one of the Soul Calibur games. I'm fuzzy on which installment it was. Some of the same girls who were giving away nicknames stood near that game kiosk. I'd go on and assume they stood there to flirt with the little nerds who came to play because, well, they were college boys. I thought they were standing there to actually watch people play a good round of the fighting game, so I went up with full intentions of showing off. No doubt, I played a good game, so I thought I had their attention, little did I know they could care less about how well I played a video game. Instead of gaining brownie points, I basically looked like a nerdy kid who had one too many brownies.
Now, because I was good at the game, they labeled me as Calibur for the remainder of the trip. While they thought they were using a name to tease me, I was more fascinated with the idea of it. In theatre, my director soon labeled me the "Johnny Depp" of our group. I was great at what I did and I could be given any side or major character and transform entirely into that character. This lead to a bigger and honestly, obnoxious personality. Yes, I was that kid. The loud, in your face, "look at me" kid, an explosion of charisma and personality. I carried "Calibur" into the rest of that school year and tagged Xplosion to the end...thus now, giving you meaning behind the blog you're reading.
You're Welcome

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