Buffalo ain't such a bad place.
Sure, we may be in a slump, taxes are high, people are dumb, and you spend every day wondering when things will get better.
But it's not THAT bad. At least living here would be better than running across the country for the rest of your life, from some faceless businessman who specializes in the business of insanity. If ya know what I mean. I suppose a nice visit to the games last night made me realize that I will be missing so much once I'm out of here and into the world. I'm leaving so much behind, and tell ya what, you think I'm gonna be happy about this? Do I look happy to you?
Anyways as I said before I went to the game last night in my hometown. You may be asking, "But Steph, why may I ask are you going to a Sabres game after yelling at the whole lot of us for taking part in some fuckward's game in order to save our friend we so dearly care about?" The reasoning is simple boys and girls, my father asked me if I wanted to go, and my birthday was coming up in a few days. So I thought, why not? I think I'm obligated to enjoy my life once in awhile don't you? I mean shouldn't we be all taking any chance we get to find some sort of bright spark in this whole fucked up darkness we're living in. Isn't that what sanity means? I'm sorry folks, but I refuse to let this thing win. I refuse. And if having one and living my days as a sunshiny person means beating the crap out of Slender Man. So be it.
I suppose you can also call this my testament and will to Buffalo. Buffalo, wanna know what I reeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaally like about Buffalo? Underneath all that dirt and grim there's a bunch of flippin' history just waiting to be discovered. In the summer I see old people touring around all the time. Probably because most of them lived here during its hay day, or maybe because most of them just plain appreciate history enough to think Oh what the hay, I'm sure we can set aside a few coins for this city. Heh. Coins. Now, I'm not saying Buffalo ain't got its bad bits here and there. I fucking lived here ya know. I still do...kind of. Oh complications...oh running... But on the way to the game I passed by this big abandoned building with a copper neoclassical looking entrance. My dad pointed it out to me, while I was thinking that place HAS to be haunted. My dad told me it was probably a school at one point. Which makes sense when you think about it. It did look pretty scholastic. I just wish I took a picture of it so I could show you guys. But whatever...you snooze you loose right? (Just so you guys know, we had to take the bus)
Downtown there was some sort of crime scene. NO IDEA what that was about, but they told us we had to take the train if we wanted to go to the stadium, there was even some guy on a megaphone blasting orders into our bloody ears, and some bastard told us we were wasting our money. Ya know, I know we're in an economic slump and all, but do you really have to be shitheaded enough to say that crap in public? Honestly. Motherfuckers. But yeah, the subways were PACKED by the way. To and fro. You know I don't usually go to games when I've never seen a packed subway before. But like I said before, think of this as a testament to my city. Which I will no longer be in very soon. I saw a battleship at the harbor, probably the same one I've seen before. The stadium's like right next to the Buffalo harbor. To think the harbor used to be such a busy place eh?
Oh yeah, the battleship. I have a picture of it too.
...What, don't tell me none of you considered how badass it would be to be on a fucking battleship for God's sake. If anything, that's on my list of things to do before Faceless Businessman Dude kills me in my sleep (I'll go there tonight).
...I'm not actually going to go there tonight, it's just...so...yeah...
So you think you're gonna visit Buffalo (shuddap, you know some of you want to see that badass battleship I showed you)...
WELL. IF YOU VISIT.
THAT YOU TRY.
SOME OF OUR FINEST.
BEEF ON FUCKING WECK.
(Don't kill me now.
I mean, come on.)
At least I can now call myself a real Buffalonian before I start running for real. Now I can randomly walk up to people in other cities and if they ask me where I'm from, I'll be like "I'm from fucking Buffalo!" And they'll be like "Buffalo?! Isn't that the city that's a dump, all the way up in Western New York? Hell no wonder you left. There's nothing good there!" And then I'll pull them down to my eyelevel (or up to my eyelevel, it depends), and I'll go, "Well if you DO come to Buffalo. (Which you will, trust me. You can't deny the awesomeness of Battleship.) I DEMAND. THAT YOU TRY. BEEF ON WECK. Just don't try the horseradish unless you can take the bitterness, 'kay?"
And then they'll look at me like I'm crazy.
And I'll be like "BETCH I'M RUNNING FROM A FREAKIN' FACELESS MAN OF COURSE I'M CRAZY."
And then I'll disappear before they call the police.
Yeah, that's totally my plan. Buffalo City represent. *poses*
But enough polishing the crapsack that is my hometown. Game was cool. We won. Yay.
But that's not important.
I'll tell you what IS important.
Here's the story of what happened AFTER the game:
We won (how many times have I said this now? 3?), everybody was flippin' excited. HUGE crowds. I read somewhere that apparently Slender Man doesn't like big crowds (is this true?), so I guess even though I got separated from my father a couple of times (it's my own fault really, I get easily distracted sometimes :x), I felt somehow...safe? I mean, I saw a bunch of guys in suits (mostly media folk, my dad gave me an entire history lesson on this Ted guy. Apparently the box where announcers talk from is a memorial to him, and apparently he was the first announcer EVER for the Buffalo Sabres. Lucky bastards I say! Luck bastards!) Guy in suit=Slender Man. I'm sure you guys have this mindset as well. It doesn't help that there's an area downtown that's practically the fishing tank for business man, there are so many of them swimming around, it's not even funny. Especially around lunch time. Oh God, it's crazy. Funnily enough it's also the place where M&T Bank is based (Fun Fact: Did you know Buffalo is the HQ for the M&T bank?), so I guess that explains some things.
But other than the folks in suits, the chaperons and shit, I felt somehow...at peace. There was a weird kind of happiness I felt there, maybe it was all the happy people around me...no worries, no death, no fucking Eldritch Abominations climbing through your windows. I felt like...I was that kind of person. I felt like I too, had absolutely nothing to worry about, that everything would be absolutely fine. No more deaths. No more running. Everything was okay, within those few seconds of serenity.
And then, I heard somebody yell my last name.
"Nord! Hey Nord!"
It was some Italian looking guy, with a buzzcut hairdue. He seemed to know my dad because he was all like "You motherfucker!" Towards him. You know that one TVtrope? Vitriolic Best Buds or something? Apparently there are a whole lot of those in the military. I suppose that's where I get my attitude from :D
Haha. Yeah, no.
Anyways, my dad introduced this guy as Salvatore Buscaglia (yeah, totally Italian), and he seemed to be a pretty nice guy. They exchanged some best buddy buddy words like "How've you been ya bastard". That kind of stuff. I just sat there wondering what the heck was going on and who the hell was this guy. According to my father they were best buddies in the Marines. They did everything together. Including driving around on top of a flipping TANK in NORWAY, waving a fucking Marine flag around like a banner. For freakin' FIFTY MINUTES (or miles, I forget which). Needless to say, I was in awe for a couple of hours afterwords. He even gave me his blessing. Afterwords my dad was talking about how it must've been some sign of God that I met Buscaglia at a flipping Sabres game after they flipping won with our goalie actually doing something good for himself for a change. (Took him long enough.)
"Seriously, you have GOT to go to bootcamp now that you've met fucking Buscaglia! There is no way you're getting yourself out of this one!"
Let me explain. Ever since my mom first went off the deep end me and my dad have been talking about me potentially going into the Marines after highschool. I kind of forgot about it after this whole Slender Man business started, and I'm not too sure whether it'll work out or not, what with the whole runner thing and finding my mom.
But I've been thinking, going in the military would probably give me some sort of advantage over normal civilians. Like, the whole traveling all over the world thing. As far as I'm concerned there is no chance Slender Man can get to me if I keep moving from place to place. Even if I am somehow forced to camp in a forest, at least I'll learn how to fucking take care of myself right? Ya know, survive? Isn't that what you Runners are about anyways? Survival? I might just do it, I'm really thinking about it. I just gotta figure out where my fucking mother is first. My dad said not to worry about it. Apparently the city of Buffalo ACTUALLY has a search party out looking for her. Wow, so my city is actually good for something! Told ya Buffalo ain't such a bad place after all. Bet you lot didn't believe me did ya? Well, to tell the truth I didn't believe me either.
Suddenly the topic of my grandfather (the one that my mom and dad stayed with when I was a baby, remember? The whole apartment thing that was such a whole lot of fail?) came up. Apparently he was a Marine too. How about that? Being a Marine runs in my family! According to my father he fault in the Vietnam War (that poor soul). And before you guys bring up Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, or whatever that kind of bullcrap people stereotype about military folk these days let me clue you in on a little secret:
FIGHTING WARS DOES NOT MAKE YOU CRAZY.
And whoever believes that is a fucking moron, who should probably try going to war themselves and see if they like people accuse you of being insane. No, insane is claiming that you grandfather was back from the grave and fucking possessing you. Being insane is looking in the mirror, and acting like there's someone or something there that isn't yourself. Like me, I'm insane. But I never went to war now did I? My dad is saner than me and he's a fucking marine. He watched people get fucking shot right before his eyes and is he in a mental institute right now? FUCK NO. My mom is. Or she's supposed to. That is until she was fucking stolen away from me. And we're going to fucking get her back. You can bet on it. This here is a message to all those Proxies out there. I WILL GET MY MOTHER BACK. NO EXCEPTIONS.
If it means going through fucking bootcamp in order to do so then so be it. I'm not going to let that fucking thing win. I refuse to.
In the mean time, turns out that entire trip to my grandfather's apartment was a big waste of my time. According to my dad he lives all the way in fucking Arizona right now. Fuck that. I'm not traveling all the way to Arizona all by myself. Luckily my dad's gonna try to contact him through the phone, I wish him luck on that. There are so many things I wish to ask him, it's not even funny.
Speaking of the apartment apparently Rebecca found something important. She's going to come over tomorrow to show me what's the whole dealeo with that one. We may even have a sleepover since my birthday on Sunday.
MY BIRTHDAY IS ON SUNDAY.
SEND ME COOKIES K? CAUSE YA KNOW, THE CAKE IS A LIE AND STUFF.
OH AND YOU PROXIES OR SLENDER DRONES OR HIS SERVANTS OR WHATEVER THE FUCK YOU WANT TO BE CALLED. APPARENTLY YOU GUYS HAVE SOME SORT OF PARTY PLANNED?
WILL THERE BE COOKIES? Y/N?
OTHERWISE YOU CAN FUCK OFF. YEAH YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE.
In the meantime. I'm feelin' Hella Good.
Also: Fuck Vevo. I can post awesome music videos on my blog if I want.