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January 2008

assassindiaries — Wed, 30 Apr 2008 22:32:26 CDT

04/30/08

VLN has disappeared off my radar. Granted, I've been in hiding for a while and I've sort of lost touch with the entire world, but I know he never did find what he wanted - because I got to it first. And I hid it.

I have very little energy right now, which is to say that I'm broke, exhausted and still mourning my late-best-dog-friend. Werewolves are not all bad, but the one that got L/K and me... She wasn't good. I've had to ask for help from someone I swore I'd never talk to again, which sucks, but it had to be done.

I'm off to drown a few sorrows in some weirdly pleasant vampire liquor. 80 proof? Ha. You've got nothing on this stuff. Here's to some pleasantly erotic dreams tonight...

03/17/08

Well, I'm back.

I'm sure that everyone has about given up on me by now, and I'm starting to think that's the way it should be.

I am, by no means, healed completely. I still have bruises and scratches, stitches and bandages. When werewolves come after you... It's no small thing to escape with your life.

I'm tired. My best friend is dead and I didn't even get paid. What an unsatisfactory job in every way. What point is there for me to remain here?

I found my friend, SoM, at that last outing I made. I realized who he was. He tried to get me to see reason - to do as he asked: don't let VLN get what he was after. I decided I would help my good friend. And look where it got me.

Perhaps I've had enough of the "good" now. How many good deeds must one do and be punished for before they stop doing good deeds?

No, it's time for me to go away now. SoM was once an assassin. He can take care of VLN now. No one needs me. It's time to disappear...

02/29/08

FYI - for those of you who don't have YIM, I got myself an account with AIM. assassindiaries is the screenname. Imagine that. lol.

I've been having some misgivings about this whole job. I'm not sure about giving VLN whatever it is I'm supposed to retreive for him. I keep feeling like there's more to it, what with this SoM things. I mean, the person who answered that email mentioned that he's all about peace. Why would I let VLN to destroy that?

I dunno. I think questions of ethics and morals must be obsolete when dealing with assassinish issues.

At any rate, I'm off tonight. I've been told by a contact that it could be worth my while to show up to a certain shindig tonight. Hopefully it'll prove fruitful...

02/28/08

I've been waiting for this: I responded to that craigslist posting and SoM has finally gotten around to emailing me back...

AD,

I appreciate your response. I, too, feel that the world would be horrifying without music. Don't worry, though, my life is devoted to finding a true peace for the world - all from music.

Thank you for sending this to me. It will help quite a bit with my research.

SoM

***************

Well, I think it would be quite dull, really. Isn't music a common thread in every society? I think there would be a lot more wars and violence if there were no music. That would be pretty horrifying.

~ AD

It wasn't exactly profound, although I find it interesting that he said he's devoted his life to finding peace through music. I swear I've heard that before, but I can't figure out where...

I'll keep thinking. In the meantime, does anyone else have any ideas about number eight? I'm really not so sure about the one idea suggested so far. We're so close! Just a little farther...

02/26/08

I think whoever has been tailing me is gone.

Well, except for the one person I know is there now (didn't before because of the other person - musician? assassin? spy?). This guy is most definitely under the employ of VLN. He's actually the clumsiest "assassin" that came out of my year group. Bah. He couldn't kill me if I stood still for him...

Anyway, I'm glad to have some time to calm down. I have a riddle to solve, a song to write and a vacation to plan. Somewhere nice and warm, I think... It'll be so good to have this over...

02/24/08

Finally! TM emailed me back. I think we're almost done with the riddles, guys!

Congradulations. Your almost there. Just answer one more and you can have the riddle that will tell you where to find you're ticket into a very special society. Whether or not your deemed worthy at the end, well, thats up to the judge.

And here's the new one.

02/20/08

A wonderful solve! The Foo Fighters did, indeed, get their name from the mysterious "foo fighters" of WWII. Interesting and I should have known that!

The next riddle is here.

02/17/08

It's a bit of a shock, receiving messages by arrow...

Yet another warning from my mysterious shadow: get out before it's too late.

I'm looking back through years of my diaries and I can't quite figure out who this person might be. Is he an assassin? A client? A friend? (Highly unlikely as I rarely keep friends long enough to allow them to get to know me at all.) I think I have it narrowed down to people who are or used to be in the assassin organization that I belong to. Some of them know me, unfortunately, and most of them are extremely good trackers.

I have, however, been to a couple of decent concerts over the past couple of days. One in a coffee shop in California and one at a club down in Georgia (yeah, I was trying to figure out what connection SoM had to Atlanta). I even went to a concert in Houston on Valentine's day. That one, well... I definitely won't be going to any stadium rock concerts again any time soon. *shudder*

Other than expanding my musical horizons, though, these concerts did nothing for my current predicament. It was more an exercise in creative thinking. You know, people always talk about thinking outside the box. It made me start to consider the current riddle a little more, taking the words and playing with them, instead of taking them as literal. Aliens... ufo's? immigrants? Warriors... mercenaries? fighters?

Nothing yet, but maybe soon.

02/13/08

Looks like VLN posted another blog. As though I can do this any faster! Meh.

And, I'm being followed again. I may have stirred someone up with all my poking around. I admit that after that anonymous email that some of you got, I went out looking again. I was determined to figure out who might have sent it. I talked to a lot of people when I was looking for my "brother."

I keep looking at it, trying to figure out what it might be. ATL is obviously Atlanta. Maybe CLST is some sort of list? I can't help seeing that when I look at those letters. What sort of list would they have in Atlanta and would they have the same thing somewhere else?

Just a few things I'm pondering, along with the new puzzle. If VLN is getting impatient, well... I don't really want to deal with an impatient Villain.

Also... I just received this "anonymous" email. It must be from whoever is following me...

Message Subject: RE: another failure? doesn\'t look good

Message:

You don\'t have much time left, do you? You might as well give up now and hide, like you always do when things don\'t go right. They won\'t stop you from playing, but they\'ll make it difficult for you.

I suggest you rethink your deal. Rid the world of V.L.N. and we\'ll all be much happier.

I'm working on it. There must be something in there to clue me in to this person's identity. Hmmm...

02/09/08

What would the world be like without music?

I had an anonymous email ask me that. I'm not sure what they're getting at, whoever it is, but I've attempted to email this person back. I've been leaving things alone so I don't know if this is the same SM character or not. If so, does he know something I don't? What, is the Villain (or V.L.N) trying to steal the music of the world or something?

I'll have to wait and see if I get another email.

02/08/08

Johnnycon will be sorry to know that he was, indeed, correct about the last riddle answer being NSync. It's okay. No one thinks you're less of a man or anything.

TM sent me the next one. Here.

02/06/08

It looks like we're moving along. Another great solve by highwind - www.catdrinkingsongs.com, given to TM, granted the next wish, I think. He emailed me and told me to look at his calendar. I'm headed over there right now...

02/04/08

After much trying, it looks like highwind came up with the correct answer. I sent it to TM. His response:

I thought you'd given up. It would have been better if you had.

Here's your next, it should be easy for someone like you:

Cuddle the cat, drink the Jack...

If you can sing it, send it back.

Assassin Diaries <assassindiaries@yahoo.com> wrote:

"THE SOUNDS OF SILENCE" by Simon & Garfunkel

(early) 02/03/08

Other than getting kicked out of a club and Lady/Killer being sick, the weekend has been uneventful. I've decided to go with the only answer that seems viable - I've emailed TM and hopefully will get a response from him soon. The Villain - or V.L.N. as he apparently wants to be addressed (who said villains weren't quirky?) is getting impatient.

And old... "friend" has popped up on my radar today. He gave me a message, courtesy of the vet I took L/K to (I've transcribed it since my cameraphone is on the fritz, I wonder why...?):

attente de l'ordre. observation de vous. mon employeur dit que vous prenez trop long. si l'eau goûte étrange, vous savez que j'ai été là.

Of course after this, I can't help but go into lockdown mode while I wait for TM's response. I can only hope I've given him the correct answer. The other avenues for finding the end to this tale have been temporarily... blockaded.

01/29/08

After checking around a couple other places... I'm finding more and more that people don't want to talk about even the suggestion of the trivia master or this mysterious SM, whatever or whoever it is.

Not that I'm giving up. I just need to find more creative ways to get information. I should be used to that. lol.

01/27/08

I've been hanging around here lately, trying to come up with something on TM. I didn't find much although I did call in a favor with a club owner I know. He wasn't too happy to answer me, but this is the response I got:

I've got a couple more associates to contact. SM? Maybe some of my other associates can/will tell me more.

In the meantime, I'm getting anxious about this puzzle. We're missing something obvious, I just know it. >_< 1211196522... (since I gave up on the letters a while ago) I have to think of all the ways/things that numbers are used for. Number genius, anyone??

01/24/08

It's been a while since I've had reliable enough connection to post anything. In that time, I've moved locations, the Villain has added something and I've talked to someone about the puzzle.

So, first, I've moved... I decided it was high time to get out of the mountains, regardless of the snow. Lady/Killer and I are still in the cold, but there's no snow.

Next, the Villain seems to have pulled someone else into his tangled web.

And lastly, I'm thinking that the letters don't give us anything in that puzzle. I've decided to concentrate on the numbers that correspond to the letters in the alphabet. I don't know if that will yield anything more, but I can't think of anything else with those dratted letters!

Since I'm back in civilization, I'll be checking out the various clubs in the area. I've decided that I should try my hand at sniffing out clues that may or may not be there. I want to see if anyone's ever heard of TM. I'll keep you all updated...

01/21/08

He/She/It was in my cabin... He/She/It left me a message. I don't want to post it here, just in case...

Is anyone making headway with the puzzle?? I'm afraid if I don't answer TM soon, he'll give up on me and after the message I got today, I don't want to disappoint the Villain, although it's looking like a bad thing to get whatever TM has only to give it to the Villain.

I'm so unsure. My safe place isn't so safe anymore, I'm snowed in, and now I have to decide whether or not I should give this thing to a man who'll kill me if I don't.

On top of all that, I have to write a song.

I think this might be my worst predicament yet.

(early) 01/20/08

This is the first time I've been able to get a good connection since Friday night. Things have gone sort of haywire since the snow. As much as I'd like to get out of here, it's dangerous to travel through such a snowy mountainscape even with an escort of wolves. We're stuck here for another couple of days.

My internet connection isn't great. Satellite sucks that way. But I'm working on the number three puzzle. So far, I'm getting nothing but I can't help thinking I'm missing something obvious. I'll tackle it again after a good night's sleep.

Hopefully, I can get better connection tomorrow. The wolves said it's supposed to be sunny. I could use some sun.

01/18/08

Today, the sky dumped about four feet of snow up here. It's been a little crazy with L/K and I struggling to get things prepared and snow-proofed.

But even with all of that, I managed to email TM. Tchaikovsky was right, of course and now the new puzzle is up.

01/17/08

TM emailed me... Check out the first/second puzzle.

I bet you think you're smart now, huh dude? Well, then here you go...

I'll give you a question, puzzle, riddle or something else. You solve it. For every answer you get correct, you get a new question. If you miss one, you have to answer three right in order to move on.

If you get all of the answers, I'll give you one final question and when you answer it, you'll get the location of what you're looking for. But go prepared with a song, written and performed by you, or you won't get what you want.

TM

Assassin Diaries <assassindiaries@yahoo.com> wrote:

Nirvana

And now, you tell me the rules, right? And tell me how to get what I need?

~ AD

(late) 01/16/08

I've got an answer to the "riddle". I've emailed TM and now I'm waiting for his response.

In other news, I've been trying to figure out who could possibly be following me who also writes (bad?) music. I don't know anyone in the organization who even attempts to write (bad?) music, although we are quite the secretive bunch.

I'm also no closer to figuring out what the Villain was writing online. It's getting quite frustrating, but he's really good at keeping secrets. I'll get it, though. For now, my eyes are tired and L/K is snoring by the fire.

Thanks to everyone for their help and support thus far.

(early) 01/16/08

New page for the first puzzle... It's got the thing decoded, so don't go there unless you don't care to decode it yourself.

01/15/08

Google purplehell...

After a tracking mission with some wolves in the mountains, L/K came back with a little something for me. A clue to the person, or thing, following me.

01/14/08

It's been a long day. I haven't figured anything out yet, although L/K did finally remember the letters V L N with what the Villain was writing online. I haven't found anything, but I've been looking.

I'm no closer to cracking the code for the puzzle. I keep thinking it must be simple, but going through all of the ciphers that use the normal alphabet isn't easy. It'll get cracked eventually. For now, my eyes are closing on their own and L/K is snoring by the fire. Tomorrow is a new day...

EDIT: 01/13/08

He sent me a "corrected" version - I'm not sure if this will be any better. Take a look and you'll see why. =/

Back to the first puzzle.

(late) 01/13/08

Grrrrr.

I've been looking around on wikipedia for some clue as to the code, and I'm pretty sure it's the playfair cipher. The problem is that it's all f*cked up. It doesn't work to try and decode it! How unfair-playing is that?

I emailed that roadie punk to ask for a new starter. Sorry everyone. Maybe we should all track TM down and show him fairplay.

Okay, so maybe not. It's a thought, though...

(early) 01/13/08

I've got something from TM! Finally, he's given me something. Sort of. Check it out.

01/11/08

I'm in a safer place, although Lady/Killer misses the beach already. I told him leaving was better than meeting up with the Villain - or being killed...

Before we left yesterday, he gave me one more piece of information that I didn't get to share. The Villain was writing something online. I don't know if it was a blog or an email or something more sinister. I'm still looking.

In the meanwhile, I've heard from TM, who is a roadie for no one: he apparently follows a certain group of musicians and he's touring right now, wherever they decide they need him. That's the most I've gotten out of him yet, although he was a bit surly even giving that up. He may have been upset that I threatened to track him down and sabotage his relationships with musicians... He's actually a mite jumpy and I'm wondering if the Villain hasn't threatened him, as well.

But after the email exchange, I've decided that it might be a good idea to create an event calendar here, listing as many shows in your area as possible over the next couple of months. I know TM doesn't work for anyone hugely famous, but it'll be helpful to know where he might be if I have to track him down.

If you find concerts (clubs, small venues, etc.) in your area, head over to the calendar and put them up there. The more possibities at first, the better...

01/10/08

I don't like being toyed with... I'm giving this guy a couple more days and then I'll start digging on my own to see if I can get what I need. (I'm giving him time mostly because I have to get out of here so the Villain doesn't get any closer to me than he already is.)

I'll be in touch... Meanwhile, this is the email I exchanged with TM yesterday:

***

I told you I'd send you this stuff when I was ready. Keep your pants on, dude. Don't you have someone to kill or something? I have shows to do - this isn't my only gig.

Assassin Diaries <assassindiaries@yahoo.com> wrote:

I know you've told me to wait, but I really need to get started with this. Can you please give me something? Anything? I can't keep waiting.

***

01/09/08

I sent Lady/Killer to follow the Villain (who has been in town, making me very nervous) today. I've gotten some information that I'm not sure will be relevant, but it's interesting to ponder...

Lady/Killer actually gave me some websites that the Villain has visited frequently today. I'll be leaving town tonight, but I sent L/K out again, just in case.

Anyway, here are the sites:

www.musiciansguide.com

www.writerswrite.com

www.triviacafe.com

www.musicmini.com

Calendar

I'll update more in the morning.

01/03/08

So, with the latest fiasco I've gotten myself into has me tracking down some mysterious object that will let the Villain gain access to some odd, secret society. If I successfully get this object and give it to the Villain, he'll retract his BN and let me get on with my life and duties as an assassin/spy.

The Villain has given me the contact information for whomever holds the key to getting this object. As of now, I'm waiting for more instructions from triviamastery@yahoo.com.

I'm not so sure about all of this, but if this is what it takes, then I'm up for it. For now.

assassindiaries — Sat, 22 Mar 2008 12:49:54 CDT

There are people in my line of work who would kill me as soon as look at me.

I think that may be more due to my switching of sides a couple of times and going into hiding than anything else. But anyway, it's interesting. I always have to be suspicious. Alright. Paranoid. I’m okay with admitting that.

Which is what I told myself as I sat in a shady dive (I always wanted to use that cliche) in a tiny village just outside of Prague. I sat in the corner, in the dark, because I'd felt someone following me since I left a museum an hour earlier. I felt the need to assuage my paranoia and hide for a while.

A waitress filled my water glass. I thanked her and sent her on her way

But she came back a few moments later and sat down across from me. Her eyes roved the establishment — wary, searching — before she looked at me straight. She said she knew who I was and she'd been following me all day. (I knew someone had been. See? Paranoia validated.) She wanted my help.

Apparently, her stepsister (we'll call her Elle) had married some country prince after putting him under a spell. This country prince had actually wanted to marry the waitress (we'll call her Ruby) but Elle concocted a story in which she played some kind of poor, innocent girl forced to clean the house of Ruby and her family. Ruby recounted the story that was chock full of singing mice, friendly birds and really stupid metaphors for sex.

After hearing the tale, I wondered if Ruby was just angry about being a waitress and I suggested she try to market the story and make her fortune. For some reason, she wasn’t amused.

Ruby showed me a note from this country prince.

I won't recount the goopy, shmoopy mush that was contained therein because it might make me sick again, not to mention that it was pretty racy. Get a room, people.

Bottom line, though, Ruby needed an assassin.

Lucky for her, she'd found one.

(I neglected to mention that I wasn't actually a good assassin since she was planning on paying me and I desperately needed the money.)

I found myself, a couple days later, outside an old, run-down castle somewhere in the wilds of the Czech Republic. Not exactly where I had envisioned myself being after a day or so in Prague. But there I was, camera in hand, trying to sneak into the dwelling of Elle and the country prince.

Ruby had gone inside to "visit" with her stepsister and the country prince. When she stepped outside for some “air,” she tearfully (actually, it was more like sobbing) told me how awful it was that her lover didn’t show any signs of recognizing her at all. Then she started talking about how her prince used to make poetry for her. She had the awful idea to recite some.

Gag.

I got her back on track with a well-meaning slap across her face. She wasn’t too happy, but at least it made her stop spouting horrid rhymes to me. We got back to the plan and she went back inside.

The “plan” was to take Elle out and that would supposedly break the spell she had over the country prince. I kept my skepticism to myself. I didn't really know a lot about magic at that point in my career, so I figured that it was at least worth it to try.

Except I couldn't find any secret ways in. The ruined castle wasn't that ruined, apparently. So I moved to plan B. I knocked on the front, er, drawbridge.

A butler lowered the... drawbridge and escorted me inside where I met Elle, the country prince and Ruby, who wouldn't meet my eyes. (No, Ruby… not suspicious at all.) I explained that I had been driving but my car had stalled and I got lost trying to find help.

(Such an old story, it was a wonder they believed me at all. Then again, they were living out a fairy tale that was used as much as one of Cinderella's soot-encrusted rags.)

Ruby stood closest to the door while her prince and her stepsister sat at a table. It looked like they were getting ready to give a thanksgiving feast to birds – on the table, there were bowls filled with seeds. Elle explained that she loved giving the best to the birds that lived around the castle.

I shrugged and turned my attention to the prince. I immediately noticed that the he looked an awful lot like Orlando Bloom. I also noticed the extremely vague expression on his face, like he'd been ingesting an awful lot of vicodin. Poor guy. Two women fighting over him and he couldn't even appreciate it.

Jeez, he was good looking... Make that three women... No. I had to focus on the job...

Elle served me some tea. She smiled a vapid smile, showing perfectly white and straight teeth. Good dentist? Or magic?

Huh.

So I sat for a little while and listened to Elle chatter. She was really the only one talking and after about five minutes, I wanted to smack her. No wonder she had to curse men into spending time with her. She was like a bird that wouldn’t shut up.

I waited to see if she'd come to suspect her new, silent visitor (me, of course) but she didn't seem to be capable of suspecting much. I watched her closely and I noticed that she held a shiny, crystal marble in her left hand. I asked her if I could look at it because marbles enthralled me.

She just laughed and shook her head without giving a reason why I couldn't hold it.

I thought I might not have to assassinate her after all. The marble could very well hold the key to the country prince's enslavement. I couldn't wait around any longer, though. I had to take action or I'd go nuts from hearing Elle yammer.

I stood up and made to grab for her left hand. She anticipated it somehow and slapped me. I returned the assault, smacking her face which stunned her. I reached for the marble but she was too quick for me and she grabbed my hair, yanking my head down. She pulled me across the room and I slammed into a table, knocking several bowls off and onto the ground. Millions of seeds scattered all over the floor.

I regained some composure and bit her hand. She let my hair go and I tried to get behind her to pin her arms, but she spun out of my way (not easy to do in the dress she was wearing, I'm sure) and punched my stomach. Leaning over from the force of it, I was able to hook my hand around her knee and sent her crashing to the floor where I immediately straddled her stomach and grabbed her wrists.

She screeched at me and kicked her legs, almost unseating me, but I managed to hold her left hand and pry the marble from it.

I stood up. It was crystal clear and had me hypnotised instantly. So pretty... Every way I turned it, I could see a little rainbow in the candlelight…

I don't know how long I stood there, but it felt like years until the marble was wrenched out of my grasp and I faced an extremely unhappy and disheveled Elle. She glared at me, snarled, and commanded me to look at what I'd done.

She spun me around to face Ruby and the country prince, who were busy making schmoopy eyes at one another. (I felt more than a little nauseous, to tell the truth. Ew.)

It turned out that it wasn't the marble that held the spell over the country prince. Ruby said that Elle had made the poor guy separate five different kinds of seeds to feed Elle's birds. The spell was completed when he had finally separated them all, though Elle had no intention of actually feeding any birds.

Knocking the bowls from the table mixed the seeds and broke the spell.

The marble was just that. A marble. (Of course, they never could truly convince me of that.)

I can't say that it wasn't a successful job. I helped Ruby with her country prince, and apparently, they were going to live happily ever after or some such nonsense. I didn't want to hear about it.

Elle wound up at the shady dive taking over Ruby's job. I hear the customers can't stand her. She’s still spouting the martyr story every chance she gets.

And I, well, I'm still in hiding. Another assassination that didn't exactly come through for me has only strenghthened my enemies' ideas that I shouldn't be allowed to live. Lucky me.

I'm used to it by now. And there really aren't too many things I need out of life that I can't get. I have connections through my failed attempts at assassination and I don't really feel like I'm lacking any substance in my life, despite the hiding and paranoia.

I can't stop thinking about that marble, though, and wishing I could hold it one more time...

assassindiaries — Sun, 24 Feb 2008 12:22:04 CST

I’ve seen the sun come up in Bangladesh, so why do I still cry?

assassindiaries — Wed, 20 Feb 2008 15:01:43 CST

A Greek Swede, I was born with a name but I changed it twice: once for my love and once for my soul. I’ve worked with many people, musicians, artists and children. Throughout my career, though, it’s the small kindnesses and love that have seem me through and so I devoted my life to something greater, saying “goodbye” to the spotlight.

shellwubsmatt — Mon, 11 Feb 2008 20:59:26 CST

February 2008

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Sara Bareilles@ Ogden Theatre: Denver, CO
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Ingrid Michaelson@ El Mocambo, Toronto
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assassindiaries — Fri, 08 Feb 2008 23:12:03 CST

Maybe they were alien warriors.

assassindiaries — Thu, 07 Feb 2008 21:01:44 CST

And here's number five in case you missed it on the calendar:

1.1 in 24… well, you could say we cut the strings. Freedom is nice – we sang for Bart, reveled in being famous, told you to hold the pickle and then quietly did what Kurt said not to… We faded away.

assassindiaries — Mon, 04 Feb 2008 20:57:51 CST

Here it is, straight from the Scoop page:

Cuddle the cat, drink the Jack...

If you can sing it, send it back.

I feel like I should now affect a Coffee Talk accent and say, "Discuss."

assassindiaries — Wed, 30 Jan 2008 20:39:29 CST

I didn't mean to cause a train wreck. But sometimes, these things just happen, I suppose, when you're in my line of business.

My vacation started easily enough. I had a great time in Wyoming. I just sat around and marvelled at the lack of people and the overabundance of mountain lions. Wyoming has a population of about three, you know, so it's a perfect place to get away from everyone and everything. If someone is looking for you, you generally know it before they see you so you've got a better chance of hiding. It's wonderful.

So I got out of there feeling very relaxed, which is exactly what I needed after the last few jobs I'd taken, not to mention the ruckus with that guy I'd stupidly developed a crush on (assassin/spies should never become involved with anyone, especially a mark). After a couple of weeks in the wilderness (with the comforts of a claw-foot bathtub, old copies of Billboard magazine and re-runs of 'What Not to Wear'), I felt refreshed and completely over the stress of unrequited love.

I decided to head back home on a train, which would slowly bring me back to reality instead of flying myself back into it quickly on an airplane.

I sat looking out the window and listening to some Damien Rice when a reflection caught my eye. Someone was staring at me, pretending not to stare at me.

I hate it when people do that.

I glanced over and came face to face with my (former) mark-turned-crush.

I asked what he was doing there.

He said he'd been following me. He had a job for me. It had to do with someone on that train and it needed to be taken care of as soon as possible so he could get on his way and pretend he'd never met me.

Just what a girl wants to hear from a (former) mark-turned-crush.

I patiently explained that I was still on vacation and I wasn't about to take a job no matter who did the asking. It was 'me' time.

He had the nerve to roll his eyes at me. I wanted to punch him, but I didn't do it. I figured they didn't like violence on the train.

I told him off in the most polite way I could and he changed his tactics, knowing that he could appeal to the part of me that still had a thing for him (even though it was buried waaaay deep). It took some convincing, but I eventually agreed to snatch his cellphone back from the guy who stole it.

The cellphone that I'd been hired to steal in the first place and couldn't because I’d developed a thing for the guy who had the cellphone.

Suddenly, I had the bright idea that I'd just finish the job I'd started and get at least half of what my employer had offered. My (former) mark-turned-crush would never suspect.

I smiled politely and nodded, making affirmative noises as he explained to me who had the phone. He said he didn't trust the job to anyone else because he knew I'd actually bring the phone back to him.

I felt a little guilty at that point, but the feeling faded when he smiled at me like the rakish rogue he was.

I got up and went back to my little room to pack up my things. I'd have to make a quick getaway. Then I asked one of the people who worked on the train when we'd be making it into the next town. 15 minutes. Perfect. I'd be able to grab the phone and get off the train before my (former) mark-turned-crush even missed me.

We were passing through a area of mountains in Colorado. I watched the trees speed by for a minute then moseyed on up to the front of the train, where the man with the phone was having a quiet dinner in the club car. I sat across from him and smiled as charmingly as possible. He was quite the handsome older gentleman and I recognized him immediately as one of the peole after the information in that phone.

I'd done my homework with the first (failed) job, so I was able to make some small talk after introducing myself as a friend of his daughter's. He was quite amiable at first, chatting as he sipped his soup. I glanced down and noted the phone was sticking out of his briefcase. The stupid phone was tiny and there'd be no way I could just reach down and grab it nonchalantly.

I excused myself to go and order some food and I thought about the best way to do it.

It would have to be a snatch and run.

I turned back to smile at the man, then I prepared myself.

I felt my stomach tighten and just the thought of the chase warmed up my muscles. I was ready.

I ran forward and grabbed the man's entire briefcase, running back towards my room as I stuck my hand inside the bag to get the phone. The man shouted behind me and I saw men up ahead of me, all dressed in black (general bodyguard gear), waiting. I tossed the briefcase and slipped the phone into my bra, then I dove under and between the big bodyguard's legs.

It took a moment for them to switch gears and by that time, I'd gotten to my room and grabbed my bag. I heard a general alert announced over the PA system and I knew my (former) mark-turned-crush would be waiting for me.

Oh well. Secrecy has never been my strong point on jobs.

I climbed out my window, bending back down to shut it once I was out, and up to the top of the train. I'd never ridden the top of a train before, but I'd seen it done in movies.

It was really, really windy.

I raced against the wind (so it was more like walking in a hurricane) to the front of the train and I got there just as I saw the train station appearing up ahead.

I took a chance.

As the train started to slow down, I aimed for a tree branch that leaned over the tracks and I jumped just as I heard the brakes squealing to stop the train. An alarm sounded out from the station and I climbed down the tree as fast as I could, racing along the forest floor away from the train.

The next thing I heard was a loud crash.

I watched the news later, from a non-descript hotel room somewhere in Colorado.

Apparently, a young man and an older gentleman got into quite the fist fight and when the alarm was sounded from the trainstation, a shipment of cattle on the train stampeded, which is difficult to do in a train car. The cows knocked their car right off the tracks, causing the rest of the train to jump and land on its side by the train station.

After that, I learned my lesson. I'd never take a job that involved a good-looking guy again.

But I did finally get my payment for the phone.

assassindiaries — Mon, 28 Jan 2008 20:35:02 CST

Here you will find the past, in hopes that you may help me with the present and preserve my future.

No, all of my adventures are not written here, nor are these in any specific order. I have to preserve some sort of confusion, you know.

By the way, feel free to discuss/ask/etc. anything you'd like about my diaries. If you think it will help or even if you're just interested, ask me and if it's not confidential, I'll tell you. You can either pm me, start threads in the discussion forum or start threads on the pages of the diaries.

assassindiaries — Fri, 18 Jan 2008 21:54:16 CST

ABAAAIFEBB

assassindiaries — Thu, 17 Jan 2008 21:28:35 CST

assassindiaries — Wed, 16 Jan 2008 20:09:00 CST

I thought I'd seen it all. From a deaf djinni to Santa Claus... But, no. My life as an assassin had yet to delve into other mysteries. Mysteries that put me in odd places later, but began fairly innocently.

And it started with a dog.

A woman down the hall from my apartment had the audacity (according to several neighbors) to own a pitbull. Lady was the sweetest dog. He was a caramel latte color and had huge dark eyes that always made think of him as a puppy, even though he was fairly old for a dog. (I never did find out the story behind his unfortunate name, but he told me that by the time he realized what was happening, it was much too late. He much preferred the name, 'Killer', as he felt it was much more fitting for a pitbull.)

One day as I arrived home after some rehab (the mishap up at the North Pole had left my ankles a little weak), Lady/Killer was sitting alone outside my door, gazing up with his perfect puppy eyes. I said hello and was rewarded with a sharp bark and the wagging of his tail. I wondered, aloud, where his person was and he growled a little. He sat between me and the door to my apartment.

I asked politely for him to kindly step out of my way (I had learned the value of being polite to animals after the adventure with the reindeer). He looked back at me and politely told me no.

As much as I'd mingled with animals before, I can't say that one has ever spoken to me so the low, deep voice of Lady/Killer took me by surprise and I dropped my keys and my purse. I stared at him and shook my head. I bent down to get my keys but he snatched them away in his mouth and shook his head. The keys jingled wildly.

He mumbled something that sounded very much like part of the Klingon mating ritual and I said as much. Lady/Killer dropped the keys and told me that I had to follow him. It was of the utmost importance.

What else could I do? A pitbull had slobbered on my keys and was refusing to move away from my front door. Somehow, being a fairly sensible person, I figured it wasn't wise to argue with a pitbull. They have larger teeth than I do.

I followed him down the corridor and around the bend to another apartment. I heard yowling from the other side of the door and something scratching. Lady/Killer told me that it was a cat, Cecilia, who was trapped inside with nothing to eat. Her person hadn't returned home in at least three days.

This was unacceptable, of course. I bent down to look at the lock. Easy enough.

I reached into the lining of my bra and pulled out the long, thin wire I had hidden in the underwire of my Vicky's Secret special. Many people would believe that such a thin wire would never pick a lock, but I find that it's much easier. My wire happened to be quite strong and wouldn't bend unless I molded it on purpose.

In a matter of moments, I had picked the simple lock and opened the door.

Inside, it was neat and tidy. White, silver and red. For some reason, it put me in mind of a vampire's apartment, though I was certain there was no such thing (Okay, so I knew there were vampires, but I tried to forget that I knew. I mean, really, people who drank other peoples' blood? Ew.)

The poor cat rubbed my legs like there was no tomorrow. Then she thanked me for coming to help her. She also thanked Lady/Killer profusely. She explained that she had seen the pitbull in the past and knew how to get in contact with him (something about the toilet, but I'm still not very clear on that detail). Then it was only a matter of him giving his person the slip and waiting for me.

Cecilia showed me where her food was sitting up on a high shelf. She explained that her person usually left enough food if he was going to be gone a long time. I thought it odd that he would leave an animal alone for so long, but I didn't say anything because it seemed as though they had things well under control at that point. I dished food out for Cecilia and she asked me to leave her food where she could reach it.

Lady/Killer said he needed to get back or his person would start calling the police and putting up a bunch of silly signs.

I actually wanted to look around the apartment a little. I couldn't help wandering around in the kitchen. Stainless steel appliances complemented the white cupboards. There was a red teapot on the stove. I opened cupboards and looked in the refrigerator. There was only a box of baking soda sitting on the bottom shelf. I opened the freezer and yelped. It was stuffed full of steaks and a miniature snowman stared out at me from in front of the meat. I closed the freezer door quickly.

Definitely weird.

But my job was done. The cat had food. She was content. She thanked me again and said she'd be sure to tell her person all about me when he returned. I couldn't be rude and demand that she keep quiet about me because I thought her person must be some kind of freak. So I just nodded and said that was great. Lady/Killer and I showed ourselves out and I unpicked the lock (this is possible for those of us extra-skilled in spy techniques).

The dog and I walked back to my apartment and he apologized for slobbering on my keys. I said that it was okay but please not to do it again. I think he laughed in a barky kind of way then said goodbye.

I went inside and shook my head. Some people finish mini-adventures like that and wonder if it was all just a dream. I didn't bother wondering something so silly. With everything else, it just fell in line. But as I opened my own freezer to take out a mac and cheese microwave dinner, I knew that it was one of the best adventures, mini or otherwise, that I'd ever had.

assassindiaries — Wed, 16 Jan 2008 06:50:07 CST

Here it is, decoded. If you want to decode it yourself, don't look at this page yet.

ITS NOT COLD ENOUGH BUT IM DUMB
I BLEW WHAT I HAD SCRATCHED MY EXISTENCE
AND GAVE MYSELF PAPERCUTS FROM IT ALL
SO I BURNED AND BURNED MY SCARRED NOTEBOOKS
AND ENDED UP SIFTING THROUGH THE ASHES KNOWING
THESE THOUGHTS DRAIN ME THEY DRAIN YOU DRY
SO WHO SAID DONT LOOK BACK
WELL ITS TRUE GO STRAIGHT AS AN ARROW IN TIME
NOTHING MATTERS BUT REACHING A TRUE SENSE OF PEACE

assassindiaries — Sun, 13 Jan 2008 22:43:25 CST

Forget the one I first posted. Here is the latest email from TM:

You're lukcy its ben a gooddd night dude. n i'might be sorta buzzzed. Here's is a new one,d dude. But if yo aks again we'er done heer! tM

Rghmlgxlowvmlftsyfgrnwfny

ryovddszgrszwhxizgxsvwnbvcrhgvmxv

zmwtzevnbhvoukzkvixfghuilnrgzoo

Hlryfimvwzmwyfimvwnbhxziivwmlgvyllph

zmwvmwvwfkhrugrmtgsilftsgsvzhsvhpmldrmt

gsvhvgslftsghwizrmnvgsvbwizrmblfwib

Hldslhzrwwlmgollpyzxp

Dvoorghgifvtlhgizrtsgzhzmziildrmgrnv

Mlgsrmtnzggvihyfgivzxsrmtzgifvhvmhvlukvzxv

************

Alright, dude, since you're getting on my nerves, here's a little something to start you out. If you tell me what this is in reference to, I'll send you the rules to the game.

nyoksdkmeaokrjerynetlc

gdobxyxgdpjibebsdphmaenxczhtudmdcz

dkbifacoxtbokvfvbuesutgpknnybk

umgdpsodebtiertlaenxxhbpubitnuacmzklxc

dkeatiaeprthipntirgsuzhisiabxmcuokygli

sicudujmrjistcpbntocjcdipbntzntetw

umxgmudfcyenrnkklabd

zbmwnyuszjmuusdfhipdpckdsswwlzntynoc

oksinthldpudsterusabhmntfbuszjucmtjukvabda

assassindiaries — Tue, 08 Jan 2008 00:07:23 CST

Although making this site available for all to see actually puts me in danger, I'm used to danger...

Is it everything you ever wanted to know about me? Absolutely not. But it is what needs to be known. Sometimes, that's enough.

*****

First of all, let me say that I never meant for this to happen. Unfortunately, I never mean for any of it to happen. I mean, I get myself into some scrapes, sure, but this? A burn notice, a Villain, an evil plot to steal something precious - well, my life is on the line. What would you do? Jeez. I don't think I have a choice but to play this game...

The Latest Scoop

The Diaries

YIM: assassindiaries

assassindiaries — Mon, 07 Jan 2008 22:56:23 CST

I've been to some lovely places in my travels. Some more interesting than lovely, to be sure. The North Pole was freezing. The Caribbean was hot and sultry. Japan was uncomfortable (mostly because someone mistook me for some American whore). But Italy was wonderful for one reason (maybe more, I'll concede, but mostly just for one.)

I'd heard of gelato before. Being an ice cream connoisseur, I would have to. I finally got a chance to actually live the dream, so to speak, when I got called into Italy.

My adopted dog Lady/Killer (another story for another time, folks) really didn't want me to go (I'm pretty sure he was simply jealous because he wanted to come along, too, after hearing about gelato) and made his feelings abundantly clear whilst rubbing his hair into just about every piece of clothing I was taking with me.

I told him I wished he could come, but I doubted he'd be very comfortable in the livestock compartment and I couldn't very well bring him in the cabin with me. No one else would appreciate his uncanny intelligence and wit. Especially seeing as how most people choose to believe animals (well, dogs and cats, anyway) can't talk. They'd all think they were hallucinating or something.

So I told him that I'd do my very best to either express mail some (very expensive) gelato, or I'd learn the tricks and make it myself when I got home.

He still wasn't happy, but he knew I had to go for my job. He couldn't very well keep food on my table. Despite his hunting prowess.

I stepped off the plane to a rainy day in Venice. It was a sort of sultry afternoon. Maybe not so sultry, really. I was quite jet-lagged and figured I should find my hotel as quickly as possible. Then I proceeded to sleep for almost 24 hours straight.

The dream that woke me up?

That's right. Tasting gelato.

Forget the mark I was there to find. In that moment, my mark was actually a lovely cup of gelato and I intended to assassinate it straightaway.

It was even better than I'd imagined. And it was gone much sooner than I thought. It was an odd feeling to suddenly look down into the cup and find there was no more of the rich, chocolatey goodness.

I'd just have to get another.

Unfortunately before I was able to, I spotted my real mark across the street. And just as unfortunately, she was with a girl who appeared to be her daughter. I couldn't just waltz up and demand that she hand over the iPod or die, could I?

Frankly, I didn't want to know what was so important on that stupid little glorified mp3 player, but that was neither here nor there and it didn't get me closer to snatching it. Who knew whether she actually carried it around with her? She looked kind of old to have something so trendy.

They were walking over to the little stand where I'd gotten my dream dessert. I ordered another and hoped I could strike up an engaging conversation in which I would carefully bring up the subject of iPods and try ever-so-gracefully to get my fake one and her real one jumbled up. The less worry and bloodshed, the better, in my eyes.

As they approached, the young girl became somewhat agitated. I, however, felt only the calm and peace that could come from a second, wicked cup of indulgent gelato. I eyed the pair of women with ease.

However, when they got right to the stand, the girl's face fell. Apparently she swore I was Sandra Bullock, one of her favorite actresses. I told her that I was flattered, sorry to disappoint and could I buy her a cup of gelato to make up for it?

It's not difficult to impress teenage girls, really. They make it seem like it is, but it's really not. Gelato in Italy and gabbing about the latest in iPod technology (which information I struggled to cram into my brain before I left the States). What a perfect afternoon.

And I got to hold THE iPod. The young girl, Danielle, was ecstatic to show me all the nifty things she could do with it, despite the disapproving stares and tsks from her mother, Patrice.

So, really, Danielle was the mark, not her mother.

Boy I hoped this would be a clean job.

I was delighted when they invited me to dinner with them, though I surreptitiously glanced back at the gelato stand as I walked away to get ready for an elegant evening. I hoped they'd have the beautiful ice cream at whatever restaurant we went to.

I'd like to say the evening passed by in a blur, but it didn't. I was acutely aware of the iPod sitting so close to me in Danielle's purse. Her mother kept looking at me suspiciously, like she knew what I was all about. Maybe she did. She was one of those people who make good mothers. All experienced in guilt-tripping and making one feel as though you've done something horribly wrong even if you haven't. Except that I sort of had done something wrong. Or I was doing something. Patrice seemed to know that.

I was skilled in keeping the edge out of my voice. I kept the chatter light, though I couldn't help steering the conversation to the iPod as much as possible, which wasn't that difficult since Danielle was inordinately proud of hers.

I just wanted the job to be done with so I could skip away to Rome asap. The thought of gelato kept me sane through the inane gibberish that Danielle started spouting off. My stomach was in knots and my brain was fried from all the like's, totally's, and really-really's that tore around the conversation.

Finally-finally, I saw my chance.

Even through the glare Patrice shot me when I got up with Danielle to visit the ladies', I was sure it was the moment I'd been waiting for. I got my fake iPod ready to go. I knew exactly where Danielle put hers for safe-keeping in her purse. I wished on Santa Claus that nothing would go wrong, but I couldn't help feeling on edge as we made our way to the back of the fine establishment.

And then Danielle asked me oh-so-politely to hold her purse while she used the facilities. I clutched the bag. It was zippered shut. I panicked. Danielle would hear if I unzipped it. I silently prayed to the toilet gods that someone else would flush before she finished up.

But there was no one else in the bathroom.

I'd have to endure more valley-girl conversation for who-knew-how-long before I'd get another shot. I cursed under my breath and glowered at the zippered purse.

Until...

Danielle asked me very politely if I would be a doll and toss her a tampon from her purse.

When we got back from our journey to the bathroom, we were chatting like old friends. Suddenly, I felt I would actually miss the teen language from Danielle, even though I'd only endured it for a short time. Patrice still glared at me, but I smiled as well as I could and tried to offer polite conversation.

About ten minutes later, though, I saw the opportunity to sneak away and I had to take it. I excused myself when I saw a cart of gelato being rolled by. Danielle giggled as I deigned to chase after it into the other room.

I didn't go back. I kept walking right out the door and down the street as silently as my black, wispy evening gown would let me. My stilletto shoes clicked mutely on the pavement and I flagged down a gondolier.

Floating away, I smiled. No bloodshed.

Halfway to my hotel, I pulled out the iPod and sighed, though I was sorely tempted to throw it in the water.

I took a train to Rome the next day and did my best to learn the secrets to making great gelato.

assassindiaries — Mon, 07 Jan 2008 22:43:12 CST

I'm not one to try and get in touch with my softer side. Generally, my softer side just gets me into trouble and, as an assassin/spy, I just can't tempt the universe like that.

I'd done that recently and, much too late, realized what a mess I'd gotten myself into with a Lego-loving werewolf, a phone, and an ill-timed job at a mental institution. Needless to say, events happened and my softer side saw what happens when it gets to come out and play.

So when my dog, Lady/Killer, told me he thought it would be good for me to join in a local scrapbooking club, I nearly fell out of my chair laughing.

What would that do for me? I asked him.

Because, honestly, I saw no point in putting memories on paper in a cutsy stay-at-home mom sort of way. I had better things to do.

Not to mention the fact that most of my memories were protected by law and confidentiality agreements.

However, my objections came too soon. Just a few moments after Lady/Killer made his suggestion, I received a job in my doorflap.

The president of the local chapter of The Official Scrap Club held in her possession a pair of magic golden scissors. My job was to do whatever it took to steal them from her and return them to my employer. In the envelope with the job and instructions, the first half of my fee stared up at me.

I could shake my spiky self for a little while, couldn't I? How bad could it be to be cute and cuddly for a night or two?

At further prompting from Lady/Killer, I decided to go for it. I'd take the few pictures that I had of my werewolf, along with transcripts of various instant message conversations we had (oh, yes, I have them all well-documented still), and some specialty paper I'd gotten over in Egypt, and go to the silly scrapbook meeting.

Ten minutes in and I wanted to take the magic scissors and jam them in the ScrapQueen's eyeballs... After I'd used them to cut out her tongue.

She chattered on and on about her stupid baby boy who somehow managed to always do the cutest things. I mean, babies aren't always cute are they? Ugh. The giggling women in the club almost put me in sugar shock. Is it possible that all of their babies were cute all of the time?

After a while, though, I realized that the women were all trying to out-baby-cute everyone else. There was a vicious undercurrent of jealousy and a need for attention. I hadn't realized that homemakers could be so... devious.

Maybe these were my kind of people after all.

When SoccerMom wanted a particular scrap of paper, BalletMom would come up with a logical reason why she needed it instead, making SoccerMom feel guilty - although when someone willingly gave up a piece for someone else, it made them look good and kind, which apparently goes hand in hand with cute babies.

In a funny way, I felt accepted as part of the group when KarateMom sneakily stole my Lego page idea for her stupid son, who hadn't even begun teething yet and only liked to knaw on the Legos.

The conniving bitches were great fun to be around, I decided.

They seemed relieved that I didn't have any babies with whom their own had to compete.

I only had an almost lover that made up a few pictures and conversations. Surprisingly, no one tried to one-up me on the tragic love connection, though HomemakerBarbieMom offered me one of her famous (so they tell me) double chocolate brownies.

It wasn't long before even the ScrapQueen wasn't getting on my nerves. Because, despite the backstabbing, gossiping, underhanded undertone of the womens' connection, there was also the obvious display of camaraderie.

You just don't get that sort of friendship from a dog.

Or the vampire next door.

And then...

The ScrapQueen took out her magic golden scissors.

After spending the time with those women, part of me wanted to leave things be just so I could find out what kind of magic the scissors held. In two hours time, I'd found a new passion - scrapbooking. Magic scissors would definitely come in handy... Unless their main function was something like cutting off the cash and prizes of men. Although that could be useful too...

Anyway, it didn't matter. The ScrapQueen brandished the scissors for a couple of minutes, turning out the most perfect circles and squares I'd ever seen. She never let the things out of her sight once she brought them out.

I admit, I was mesmerized. And a little confused. How was I going to confiscate the damn things? I couldn't see how I'd possibly get lucky with this one.

The meeting lasted for another hour, though AlcoholicMom wished we could have stayed longer. Her babies, although cute, were driving her to drink because she never got time away from them. I would have offered to take her out to the local bar, but I had my mind on more important things - magic scissors.

I offered to stay and help clean up after everyone else had left. The ScrapQueen thanked me for the offer, but she said it wouldn't take her long at all. I had a feeling that those magic scissors would be doing most of the cleaning.

I picked up my few pages and started heading towards the door.

The ScrapQueen stopped me and told me that she knew what I was after.

I turned back to her, hoping that she might help me out and just give me the scissors. No such luck.

Stealing the scissors from the group would cut the fabric of friendship that held them all together leading to depression, murder, suicide and feeding liver to their babies. I had to admit that none of that sounded very good at all. I didn't blame her for not wanting to hand them over to me, but I had a job to do and I needed the money. Not to mention the fact that I could be killed for not doing my job.

The ScrapQueen just shook her head when I explained my position. She told me that the person who hired me must have been the Empress of Scrap, the head of the Club Organization. The woman had been jealous of the Queen for a long time and wanted to undermine her power.

I never knew housewives were so wicked.

I couldn't take the scissors, I knew that. But what could I do?

Then, like the glory of a well-scrapped picture, the ScrapQueen took out of her purse an identical pair of golden scissors. She assured me that they had enough magic to pass for the real ones, but nothing detrimental to the lives of the innocent conniving bitches in the local Club.

I was glad because I really did like those women and I wanted to keep going to meetings. It would make a nice change and a nice, safe place for my softer side to come out and play. And I could actually talk about my tragic love life without worrying about getting insulted by (Lady/Killer) anyone. A nice change...

I thanked the ScrapQueen and promised to return soon.

I knew that, eventually, my luck would run out and I'd have to do what an assassin does, but for now, I was happy to take the fake magic golden scissors and head back home.

assassindiaries — Mon, 07 Jan 2008 22:35:46 CST

I didn’t think twice when they told me what they wanted.

Not in a million years would I take that job. I wouldn’t get away without getting struck by one of those damn arrows. I never could.

The ladies were all dressed in black – which I assume they thought was perfect for a low-key meeting. (Which, in reality, is the perfect way to look suspicious… Four women all dressed in black? They’re either all witches or they’re up to something. Or both.) I was wearing my normal attire for an evening out. Jeans, white blouse, and ruby red snakeskin stiletto boots.

Hey, the best place to hide is out in the open where they least expect you to be.

I met them at a coffee shop in Athens where the waiter was tall, dark and handsome, with the added benefit that the only English word he knew was ‘lego’ and I assume he meant the toys and not that he wanted someone to let him go. He was inordinately proud that he knew that word, too. Apparently (from the little Greek I knew) some tourist had stopped by and showed him how to build Athena’s temple out of legos.

I tipped him well.

Anyway, the four ladies kept looking around like they thought they were being watched by Aphrodite, herself. I knew that Aphrodite was actually visiting my neighbor (the vampire who kept snowmen in his freezer) and that she was likely very busy at the moment. I didn’t have to tell the women that, though. I figured I’d keep them on their toes.

It was a good thirty minutes before they finally got down to what they wanted from me and it was another ten before I stopped laughing enough to even consider what they were offering.

No one attempts to assassinate Cupid and gets away with their pride, dignity and self-respect. And no one comes away without being stupidly in love with love for the rest of their lives. I wasn’t about to go up against those odds.

Not until they showed me a picture of my latest tragic crush, that is.

I knew that Cupid was behind all my disastrous one-sided love affairs and I felt it was high time for him to pay for the humiliation he’d put me through. I studied each of the poor, jaded girls in front of me and I seriously considered their plan. Then, of course, I discarded it and made up my own.

I wouldn’t be able to assassinate the annoying little cherub-man, but perhaps I could somehow humiliate him so he’d leave me and my new clients alone. No matter what, it was worth a shot.

I’d be the first to have revenge on Cupid.

I said goodbye to the women and made my way up to Athena’s temple, where I’d stashed a few supplies. I almost ran into some homeless people but I bypassed them by sticking in the shadows of the temple. It wouldn’t do to have anyone see where I was. Cupid would not be happy once I did what I set out to do and I didn’t need him chasing me down before I was ready for him.

I laid my trap carefully.

Cupid can’t resist a hopeless case (hence the number of times I was stuck with useless arrows) so I decided to set one up for him using my Handsome Greek Lego-Lover and his ex-girlfriend as bait. I’d wait for Cupid to show up to skewer the girl and I’d steal an arrow, skewering him instead.

Perfect plan.

I waited.

The HGL-L sat with his ex for a while and they kept up some strained conversation whilst I hid behind a gauzy, pink curtain. The owner of the coffee shop had a thing for Valentine’s Day. Luckily, I could use the decorations to my advantage.

I heard the door open and saw Cupid saunter in like he owned the world that day (which, he did, really, since he thrived on that schmoopy stuff and it, in turn, was created by him – a vicious cycle, to be sure). He gazed around the room, studying each pathetically goopy couple making lovey-dovey eyes at one another. (Personally, I just felt sick to my stomach the whole time, but hey, whatever. I just had a job to do and then I’d be on my way back to Russia.) Then he spied my HGL-L and his ex and I knew Cupid would take the bait.

There’s no avoiding a lovesick guy and the object of his addiction, who clearly doesn’t lovesick him back.

Cupid pulled out his bow and arrow and set the quiver of arrows on the ground within perfect reaching distance of me. I crept quietly out from behind the curtain and slid an arrow up and out of the quiver, holding it gingerly with the tip away from me. The last thing I needed was to poke myself with the damned thing.

I barely breathed.

The idea was to get Cupid right as he was looking at my HGL-L and that would be that (for a while – Cupid’s love potion doesn’t last forever, but it would be long enough to achieve the desired humiliation and cause Cupid to realize what a heel he was). I’d steal all the arrows and he’d beg to get them back ASAP and then he’d give in to what I wanted.

I grabbed the quiver.

I aimed the arrow.

I stood up. I stepped forward, holding the arrow out.

I stuck it in his side right as he turned to see me standing there.

I tried to stop the arrow once I noted the direction of his eyes. I tried to let go and duck – but it was too late. The arrow was dissipating and a look of love and lust glazed over Cupid’s eyes as he looked right at me.

I ran out of the coffee shop as fast as I could. But Cupid is faster than I am, I hate to say.

I ran all the way back to Athena’s temple, clutching the quiver full of love-poisoned arrows and Cupid kept pace with me. I tried to dodge him, but the thing about gods and demi-gods is that they can see farther and differently than everyone else. I had no chance.

I was out of breath and I had a stitch in my side, cramping like hell as I stopped outside the temple. He started shouting love poetry at me and he somehow conjured a harp so he could sing my praises. I blushed several times after he told me what his love would make him do to me – and I was not easily shocked by much (goes with the assassin/spy territory).

I spent the night trying to avoid him and he spent the night spouting schmoop. After walking for a while, I finally just sat down and endured the awful chatter of love. It made it more bearable once I started snapping each and every arrow in two and as the night wore on and I got sleepier, the effects of the arrow started wearing off. Cupid still couldn’t help but declare his undying love for me, but he was glaring and scowling as I broke his arrows.

Not that the quiver didn’t just keep refilling itself – but it annoyed Cupid to see his life’s work taken for granted in such a way.

It gave me some satisfaction.

By dawn, the love poems and songs were getting more and more vicious and there were long pauses in the romance diatribe. He started trying to get the quiver back from me, but I held out until the end.

My head hurt. My feet hurt. My ears hurt. I just wanted him to shut up. But I wouldn’t give him back his quiver until he swore that he would leave me and my clients alone forever.

He stamped his feet and turned bright red, but in the end, he acquiesced. He yelled at me a lot and told me that even though he loved me until his dying day, he hated me and wanted me to die.

The after-effects of the arrow are sometimes really unpleasant.

Valentine’s Day officially ended with sun-up and Cupid agreed to my demands. He said he’d be happy if he never saw me again. It was cruel and unusual punishment to endure the drivel he had to spew out at me all night.

I told him it wasn’t exactly a picnic for me, either.

He signed a contract that forbade him from coming near me or my clients for the period of 100 years and before I could even say the last cynical sarcastic remark I had prepared, Cupid had cursed me with finding the love of my life and still not being able to have him until that 100 years were over.

I shrugged and walked away, satisfied that I wouldn’t be chased by the Love Demon for quite some time.

It was the best of Valentine’s Days, it was the worst of Valentine’s Days.

All I know is: I got paid and I got through another LoveFest.

1

New Year's Day

21

Greg Laswell@ Nectar Lounge, Seattle, WA

23
Jack Penate@ Union Pool, Brooklyn

30
Editors@ Avalon Theatre, SLC, UT

31
Matt Nathanson @ Recher Theatre: Towson, MD

assassindiaries — Mon, 07 Jan 2008 22:26:01 CST

Sure its not the best line of work. Killing people can rarely be considered good work. Granted, there have been several times when ridding the world of someone was actually a good idea, but I don't get those kinds of people. I think it's mostly because I'm not a very good assassin.

But they'd given me this assignment. Some guy they said was subverting the ways of justice or some shit like that. Really, they were just trying to justify their own need to control the human population. Of course, it didn't matter what I thought. It only mattered that I hadn't had a job in a month and I have bills to pay, too.

I didn't think it would matter so much to me who it was. I knew I could keep my professional life and business life separate. I fought for justice, twisted though it might be.

So put my hair back in French braids and I donned my chic assassins garb. Black leather pants. Black leather bustier and vest. Black, Prada stiletto boots. Killer.

No, really. They frickin kill my feet. But they're perfect for this because they don't leave much of a print behind. So I wear them when I'm working. Blood has a tendency to get everywhere and I can't be stepping all over in it whilst wearing heavy boots or sneakers.

Anyway, I get ready and head out, grabbing a handful of chocolate covered mint double-stuff Oreos to munch on. My favorites. The way they crunch but leave a melty, minty flavor... bliss. One of my blogfriends had recently written a funny blog about Oreos and it seriously put me in the mood.

For Oreos, sickos. In the mood for Oreos.

Yeah So I walked down the street, paying close attention to everything around me. An assassin always has to be alert, you know. It's hard to not to be alert when youre wearing leather pants, a leather bra and stiletto boots.

My Dagger of Death was tucked in a strap on my pants. I had a silver stiletto pinned in my hair. I'd stashed a small knife in my bustier, though how I managed that, I still have no idea. There wasn't much room for anything besides my cell phone there in my cleavage. But it's fun to tell people I have a knife in my bra. Guys are mysteriously turned on by this.

Well, I reach my destination in full cover of dark. The shreds of the moon are covered by clouds. But I could still see. I was told my mark would be exiting his place of employment a little before midnight. Sure enough, shortly after I arrived, he emerged and locked the door behind him.

I started forward, then stopped.

It couldn't be... No. No... But it was! It was The Rocketman. A very good blogfriend of mine. They'd sent me to assassinate someone they knew I couldn't possibly assassinate!

I walked closer to him, watching behind my back. They had to know. They had to be watching me. What could I do? I had no alternative. It was either take him out or die myself. I moved silently towards him, which was almost impossible in leather pants, let me tell you.

Regardless of how quiet I was, though, it was only a matter of time before he turned around and saw me. There was a moment before recognition hit him, then he seemed happy to see me.

But let's face it, super-sexy chick in black leather and stiletto boots? What guy wouldn't be turned on at least a little, ball and chain or not? So, of course he was happy to see me.

I shook my head and sighed. I couldn't do it. I just couldn't assassinate someone I knew and who so obviously admired me so much. I had few enough admirers as it was. One less didn't seem like a good thing.

We spoke for a few minutes. I told him why I was there. He didn't take the news too well. We argued a little, him talking about some government conspiracy having something to do with Oreo cookies, and what he posted on MySpace. I told him to leave as quickly as possible, but he wasn't quick enough.

Neither was I, for that matter, though I'm the one who escaped with my life still intact. It happened before I could do anything. Something small and green rushed past me and knocked The Rocketman down. I was having a hard time figuring out exactly who or what it was, but the bitch was quick and I panicked. I took off down the alley, darting to the shadows to hide. The last thing I heard my blogfriend say was that his death must be avenged.

I'm not so sure that I'm the one to avenge it, since I'm now running and hiding for my own life. They sent that other assassin in because they were proving I couldn't do my job. Which was true.

I'd killed a grand total of... zero.

Now my mission is clear. I must fight the forces of darkness and avenge the wrongful death of my blogfriend.

But first, I have to get rid of these stiletto boots.