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 |  "All books are either dreams or swords." |
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"All books are either dreams or swords. You can cut, or you can drug, with words." ~Amy Lowell   These are my thoughts on my life and my writing, and how both seem to mix together in an odd confluence of events. I also thought this would be a good place to talk about things I've read both in books and on WDC. Combining all of my addictions all in one place. I warn you now that this will probably make no sense whatsoever and will often times leave you confused. Welcome to my world.  "The soul, secure in her existence, smiles at the drawn dagger and defies its point. The stars shall fade away, the sun himself grow dim with age and nature sink in years, but thou shall flourish in immortal youth, unhurt amid the war of elements, the wreck of matter and the crush of worlds." ~ Joesph Addison The journey continues:
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The Anaheim Angels beat the Boston Red Sox in a 5-0 shutout yesterday.  The playoff game was probably the last one I'll see this season. It was truly amazing to be and experience something that hasn't happened in over twenty-three years. The crowd was wild, the stadium seats covered in red, cheering at the top of their lungs, standing on their feet whenever the plays got close and pitcher took down another player. The thing about this game is the fact that I went with my father. There are men in the world who come home from war with stories of their haunting past or police officers with tales of the one that got away. They pass them down to their kids, telling them in odd moments when the trigger for the memory is activating. The loss back in 1986 to the Red Sox is my father's war story. Since I was a kid he'd told me about the night the Angels gave up their lead in the devastation of the last inning to the Sox, losing the World Series. He reminisced about the black and white television he watched it on, the pain of seeing his favorite team in the world succumb to such tragedy, fueling a new-found hate for Boston. "If only," he say. The pitcher of that game, Danny Moore (I think), took his life after that game. "The game has causalities." Last night was a vindication not only for my dad, and the entire Angels' fan base, but for a pitcher by the name of John Lackey. This is his third attempt at beating Boston during a playoff game, each time before the Sox just getting out from under him to bring the loss. It wasn't that he wasn't good - he simply wasn't enough to get ahead. This has plagued him for a while, but to comeback with a shutout on the first game is fucking amazing! The applause and ovation afterward was like an inspirational movie - I spotted a few tears from fans, even felt the "chill" of the moment myself. All in all, I think the Angels have a shot at winning the title. Especially if they can keep up the heat the way they did last night. Its surprising how beautiful the game truly is. There are components that inspire intricate individualistic intentions as well as all players moving like a well-oiled machine. Baseball is like a dance. It takes time and patience, but once everything moves together you see something spectacular. I would wax on more about the awesomeness of baseball, yet, sadly, time does not permit me at this time. Still, it was fucking awesome to be there in the flesh to see history. Now if they could only keep it up... |
| Main Entry: blitz Pronunciation: \ˈblits\ Function: noun Date: circa 1939 1 a : blitzkrieg 1 b (1) : an intensive aerial military campaign (2) : air raid 2 a : an intensive campaign or attack : a sudden overwhelming bombardment <an advertising blitz> b : a rush of the passer by a defensive linebacker, back, or end in football My completely awesome friend and mentor Gothic Angel gone  perform an awardicon blitz on my portfolio yesterday! I received five awesome ribbons for my five main folders, each color-oriented to the element the folder is connected with. I'm so ecstatic its freakin' ridiculous. My grin is so wide it would scare small children.Gothic is the best mentor in the world! As a side note, my little brother lost two of his bottom teeth in the past three days. He called me this evening to tell me the other one came out. Zack has an odd fascination with the holes the teeth leave behind. Boys will be boys, lol. What gets me is that the "tooth-fairy" left the kid 10 bucks for the first tooth, so I can only imagine there will be 10 more dollars under his pillow tonight. Ten bucks! When I was his age I got fifty cents for my teeth (a dollar for the two front ones) and I was one of the lucky ones. My theory is my step-mother didn't have change. Because if that kid get 10 bucks for each tooth, Zack can put himself through college by the times he's finishes popping out his grin. At least I get a "when I was your age" story to guilt-trip him later in life with.  |
| I am currently writing from the desk in my hotel room on my last night in Bakersfield. I'm here an extra day actually. The hotel and room are great so I don't mind being here for a while longer. There are just odd moments of loneliness that seem to attack every once in a while when things seem to get too quiet or still. Yesterday, as technically today is Monday, was quite interesting. I hung out with the munchkins and my sister Jennifer and my father in my hotel room for a chuck, which was nice to just relax. We went to see "Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs". It was hilarious, especially for an animated film. Things turned however when I was left to my own devices at around 11 o'clock. First, I want to go slightly off topic to explain a weirdness I possess. My guy has a wonderful voice. If I could curl up with his voice and fall asleep, I would. There's something about the timbre that makes me feel safe, something of which I haven't felt since I was about four years old. No one has the same effect on me. Even before we began dating, I loved to listen to him talk and relax. Its like my personal brand of catnip, lol. That being said, I called him once I was alone and settled back for some time together. Until I got the news that it might be our last conversation. Phone problems have always plagued us from broken speakers to strange buzzing sounds. I think in our almost 17 months together we've had five phones between us. Now there's a problem with his contract. It could be months before I hear his lovely voice again. Surprisingly, I did the girly-girl thing - I cried a bit. If you knew me well you'd know I hate crying, and despite some waterworks since we've been a couple, I rarely shed a tear. To me, misguided or not, crying is a sign of weakness. My eldest brother taught me that giving in to tears is like giving an enemy a power to lord over you. He had good intentions, really. Still, the tears came, and I find it hard to get them to stop. Saying goodbye was hard, tore at me a bit. So here I am in a random hotel room being the girly-girl my brother always warned me about. And my nose is stuffy. Lovely. |
| This is only to be sporadic, so if you can't follow this don't feel bad. Today I dislocated a rib and my left leg from thigh to knee is killing me. I have no idea way. Soooo, I'm off on a trip again tomorrow. This time tomorrow night I will be in cow-smelling, semi-quiet valley of Bakersfield. I'll my Zack Attack, which is worth the pain-in-the-ass trip on the bus. Swear to God there are weird people out there, and not in the intriguing type of way. Still, you're always in for a treat when it comes to Los Angeles. I signed up two weeks ago for "The Balance of Chaos Contest"  . The story is sitting in my head, a mythology piece gone weird. The problem is I can't seem to get it out on paper, or more importantly, on the computer. Its due on Saturday. If I don't get this done I'll feel like a complete failure. Especially since its RIGHT THERE in my head. As mentioned earlier I also signed up for NaNoWriMo. A moment of insanity. To curb this insanity I signed up for "October Novel Prep Challenge" to help me shift out my novel. Novel. That term scares the crap out of me. This should be good. The "15 for 15 Contest --- Closed" helped get into the habit of writing everyday. "October Novel Prep Challenge" hopefully will provide the structure I need to make a pretty good first novel.Reviews are stacking up everywhere! I got to get my fingers to the keyboard and attack those reviews. They will be done and soon! Yep, pain is a making me nutty. I'm off for now. Will write again in B-town. |
| This blog is one-year-old today. Hurray! To recap on some of the old things that are still moving strong since the beginning of this blog: Still In School: I will be in college for many years to come. But for all that I complain about I love it. I love learning new things. I love sitting in a class and absorbing information from my professors. Each has their own unique background and worries, and yet each decides to dump their frustrations on young, bright-minded students. There's nowhere in the world you can get the same level of connectivity than in an university classroom...at least that I've experienced in my few years.  Still With My Guy: We've been together for almost a year and a half now and things are going swimmingly. No matter how jacked up life can get we can still get together and hash out our frustrations. We make each other laugh. I have two goofy nicknames for him, which I use just to bug the crap out of him. Love is grand and we still got it!Still Short: Unfortunately, I am still part of the munchkin brigade. This gives me some anxiety still, though the nightmares have gone away (just kidding). No, really. I'm short but I can live it. There are some definite perks to being on the smaller side. Still Procrastinate: Well, that was to be expected. *snicker* Now to talk about potential for new things to appear in the blog over the next few months: NaNoWriMo: Somewhere during the beginning of this month I got the bright (insane) idea to join NaNoWriMo. See, what happen was, I went to the official website and made the mistake of signing up for the challenge. This was stupid on my part. As I am taking five courses this semester that means five loooonnnggg term papers to write. During the month of November. Somehow my brain decided that I can also handle 50,000 words in a month - something I have never accomplished in my life. More Trips: As my life has become more adult-like, my father has requested my presence more in Bakersfield. That means more bus trips, more interesting stories from Los Angeles. I love my family in B-town, but family issues make these trips complicated. An older brother in jail and a step-mother who loves a dog more than me makes for happy times. Still, I get to see my little brother and sister. Plus, hockey. Nothing like sports to bring the family together. New Computer: A computer from China will be arriving at my door tomorrow morning (technically today). My father, after many stern moments, decided to get me a new laptop after ditching the idea to give me one of his old ones. I dig old laptops - I dig hand-me-downs. This new laptop is not something I require or even asked for. But I'm happy to receive it as it will allow me to use my computer more often as I currently share on. Procrastinate Less: Psych! So there ya go. Some old. Some new. All good times. |
| I'm a fickle bitch. I've decided to take a break from Qaddafi. I know, I know. We've just met and the connection was intense for a moment. Its just...I just don't feel the love anymore. There's just so many mixed signals. First he's wants a full commitment and wants to take control of our relationship. But then, in a drop of the hat, he completely changes on me! Now, he's thinking throwing out our whole relationship and starting over. I'm done for now. There's just so much going on...he and I are on a break. (Note: Just for those who didn't read a few posts ago, this is a rant about an Op-Ed I've been assigned to do for my IR class. Mostly, this was meant for laughs, haha.) |
| Today I played devil's advocate to a dictator... ...will continue later - my mind's out on a run to get a stash of holy water. |
| This is my one hundredth post in this blog. In approximately five days it will also be one year old. Throughout the week I've been thinking of what to write here as it is a momentous occasion. Here's what I came up with...blah. So, given my lack of giving out inspiration to the masses, I mark this moment with a quote: |
| I'm in love with the television show Merlin. Yeah, I know, completely cheesy, but I love me some of the cheese. The graphics are horrible; the plot for each episode is less than genius. There's just something about the whole thing that makes me want to keep watching. The tales of King Arthur and the knights of the Round Table are ones I grew up reading again and again. As I grew up I branched out a bit from the traditional to more of the non-traditional and different interpretations. I have copies of a lot of them. This makes me a bit of a dork...I have come to terms with it. The sad part about watching Merlin is that its shot and played in Britain. I have to search and haunt BBC knock-offs. There is a level of love here that's just sad. If there are a couple of jokes you wish to make, go for it. I get such crap from my guy its not even funny. He thinks it hilarious to mock me about this. He think it hilarious to mock me about anything. So feel free to add to it. Really...I don't mind...much. Watched the first episode of the second season. Again, not the thing of genius, but I definitely got my fill of the cheese. |
| I've lost my mind - I think somewhere along I-95. There's been a lot going through my brain for quite some time. I've never been able to shut the damn thing off. Recently, however, I thought it would be beneficial to let some the craziness out. My bright idea - enter "15 for 15 Contest --- Closed" .Here's my reasoning why. There are dozens of people who have done this and love doing it. It has been said to have a wonderful effect of getting those who don't write everyday into the habit of doing it. Plus, the fifteen minute limitation doesn't make such a daunting task. The hitch - I have a ton of homework. I have to fill out a stack of work for my Psych class on Monday to determine my path for my further education. I have my first heavy exam on Tuesday classifying abnormal behavior as well as three chapters worth of notes for My Cross Cultural Psych class due. Plus, I have an Op-Ed due for my International Relations class talking about the strategic movements and security opinions from the POV of Libya. Libya Personally I believe my mind is out to get me. Slowly, ever so slowly, its driving me mad with things I need to do for supposedly "my own well being". Because, you see, it knows me too well. It knows that I will not back out from Leger's contest because I'm tried of not finishing things here on WDC. I'm going to do it and everything else on my to-do list. Plus the museum with my mom since she's pretty down and blue at the moment. Some talk time with my guy. Oh, and, dinner with my brother and his family on Sunday. Family time is important. In between everything else, some sleep. Maybe eating. A shower would be nice. And get some reviews done. Damn it. |
| Okay, so yesterday, wasn't the best of days. There was massive amounts of drama happening, which I won't place here because of the people involved and the right to privacy. However, what I will say is this - a new person has been added to my "Testicle Removal With A Dull Knife" List. The whole process seemed to stretch over the past forty-eight hours, ending in a culmination of tears, wine, and horrible info-mericals. Mostly, I'm drained as all hell. There is a level of tired that can be achieved without actually falling asleep. I've laid on my bed, the room pitch-black, my two fans swirling the hot air in an attempt to bring on a breeze, every bone in my body aching, and...nada. Not one moment of sleep to be had. WTH? If I could redo this day, I would. If there were a button I could push to start yesterday over with a clean slate, my fingers would be dancing across that puppy in a heartbeat. So much pain. So much aching. So much shit. I watched a heart break tonight, and have no way of quieting my soul. |
| I have officially started my first procrastination session of the Fall semester. Nothing to smile about, I know, but there are things we are born to do and procrastination happens to be one of mine. There have been many a tale told about my escapades of this certain trait. My brothers (when all were speaking to me) find it amusing. My mother, ever the pragmatist, finds it completely unnerving. My love finds it cute (somewhere, in the back of his mind, I believe he thinks of me as a little bunny or other cute little creature, which is slightly disturbing but funny all at the same time). Me, personally, I find it gets everything where its suppose to go. Its hard to describe the feelings of a rush during a deadline. Creatively, I get my best stuff when pushed to the limit. At least...I did. Now, as I grow older, I find that the rush simply isn't there anymore. I don't think my need to procrastinate will fade anytime soon, but the want to feel the rush really isn't all that thrilling. However, as I sit in front of my laptop, haven't had cracked open my Poli-Sci book in a few hours, I feel the beginnings of the new academic year. Wonderfully bitter coffee is currently burning its way down my throat as we speak. I haven't slept a solid night in a couple of weeks. My mind is racing and losing focus all at the same time. Higher Education. Isn't it grand?  |
***Warning: An Extreme, Explicit Rant*** Today I watched President Obama deliver his speech to the nation about Health Care. I can say I was filled with immense hope and pride watching him up on the podium. My mom was moved to tears as she heard the potential he spoke of for our nation. To me, he cleared up a lot of the things people have been griping about over the past few months. He stated his position in no uncertain terms of what he plans for the Health Care reform. He called not only to reason, but to the morality of the issue, which is there are people who walking a high wire with no net or a net so tattered they might as well protect themselves with wishes and prayers. What gets to me is the people so freakin' fearful or foolish that they've shut themselves out from hearing anything other than their paranoid propaganda. I walked onto campus this evening hearing the negative aspects of the speech instead of the positive. The school paper's opposition piece drove me up the wall with the word "SOCIALISM" plastered on the paper columns, reminding me eerily of the McCarthy Era. Even some of the things here on WDC...crap, people are so damn ignorant! The thing that gets to me the most is the fact that people try to push the idea that the system isn't broken. Are you blind or simply not willing to look outside the picturesque sphere in which you live you near perfect life? Millions - not a couple of dudes on the street corner - millions of people are without health insurance. Not because they're young and want the risk or that they're illegal (don't get me started on that bullshit) or that they're too lazy to even to try. Many can't afford to pay out of pocket to get covered or can't because of my favorite phrase in the world "Pre-Existing Conditions". Here's a story for you: My mother, a woman who has worked since she was seventeen, can't get health insurance. Why? Because she's been diagnosed with two debilitating, genetic diseases. Now, she's paid her taxes faithfully for decades, paying into a Health Care system that refuses to take care of her as she gets older. No insurance will touch her, even though she's willing to pay the premiums. For decades she's lived in fear of when her diseases might claim her life; not fear of her own death but the money it will cost if she goes into the hospital for treatment and how my brothers and I might have to pay the price. Now - pretty please - tell me the system isn't broken. There are those who are worried that any reform will weaken their current coverage. You're covered. The reform will actually save you money because, if more people are able to get health insurance, people like me and my mother will be covered if we're in an accident or have an emergency, reducing your taxes. Yes, that's right, you save tax money! What the reform does for people with insurance already is to make sure they have protection against premiums hikes and small business owners who wish to protect their employees. It also - this made me stand up and cheer - will make it illegal for insurance companies to drop or stop treatment for those are gravely ill because, you guessed it, "Pre-existing Conditions" are discovered in their pasts. You know, things like ear infections or acne. People will stop having to worry about their loved ones dying because a small case of athlete's foot wasn't on their original medical chart. Some have said this isn't a priority issue. Shit, people are dying, but who cares about that little bit of fluff, right? Every time some one mentions that I think of all the people I've known who've lost their lives to inadequate health insurance and fell through one of the cracks or can't get health insurance. I think of all the people who had the dumb fucking bad luck of horrible genetics and got dropped from their insurance like a rotten potato. Hell, did anyone stand to reason that many of the people under the age of twenty-five don't believe in health insurance because of their experiences and others experiences where the insurance companies did jack shit? I'd bet all the money in my pockets that people who don't think this is a big deal have ever had to go without the security of health insurance. Have never had the dilemma of whether they should go to see the doctor about the lump on their breast and pay the cost of the "free" clinic or make a car payment for the month or put food on the table for their kids. To make a distinction of whether your life has a high enough monetary value to seek treatment to keep living and bare the high costs. Never mind that the people without coverage work everyday of their lives to make a living and haven't touched a cent of Welfare or government assistance to help them along. The fact that the plan they thought they had won't pay for the transplant needed to save their spouse's life because of some hidden clause in the system that won't pay for it. They're about to die, but since there isn't anything wrong with Health Care, why don't you sit down with the poor bastards and tell them why they have to die even if there's a cure to save them in the next room. Explain to the parents of the dying daughter or son why the Health Care system is just peachy and should be left alone because their case is only one of about 5 million others going on right now (not including those without insurance which equals roughly 46 million). They're in the minority. They need to stay quiet and suffer in silence as their loved one dies while the majority goes on their merry way. Then, once more with feeling as another preventable death occurs, tell me there isn't one damn thing wrong with the system. That their loved one isn't worth it. I inherited medical conditions passed down from generations before me. I didn't do anything to cause them, just got a bad hand when it came to certain parts of my DNA. For these somewhat minor medical conditions I'm out of the running for medical insurance as the system stands now. These conditions could grow into major problems if my mother's diseases are passed on to me, something only time will tell. If Health Care doesn't change, I will get no help down the line, but with this reform I could possibly see a future without the burden my mother and millions of others face today. So, pretty fucking please, tell me to my face that I and others like me are simply not worth the effort. That we shouldn't have the same right to health insurance as you do. Last, and certainly not least, whether you voted for him or not, address the man with respect. You may not agree with him. You may even think he's incompetent or ruining the country. Doesn't matter. Call him Mr. President or President Obama with whatever expletive you wish to use. The presidency is not a person - its an office that leads our nation. I couldn't stand President Bush and barely tolerated President Clinton, but I still called them both president when speaking about how much the former was running America into the ground and the latter was a slimy ass wipe who couldn't keep his fly zipped. Why? Because the office of the presidency will be there long after the person elected has left. Oh, and if you didn't vote at all, shut the fuck up. Thank you. ***End Rant*** |
| Lately my story ideas have been running on the darker side of things. The darkness of the materials isn't a problem per se. I've written darker pieces before, and often get better reception from others with those pieces than my lighter ones. I guess the biggest conflict I'm facing is that they're all dark. Not just slightly sinister either, but down right pitch-black in nature. For the life of me I have no idea why the hell this is happening. I've been trying to write more and looking through different contest prompts to see what's out there. I can take even the most benign prompt and make it completely fucked it. Again, why? My rational mind is so bewildered that I haven't written any of it down. Just for sanity's sake though I think I'll have to. The ironic part about all of this is that I created an item just for this purpose. "That Certain Something" was a spur-of-the-moment, "it'd be a really good idea if you purge your madness" idea. I haven't touched it yet though. Possibly too chicken shit to see what comes out. Still, its better than leaving it in my head, right?But mostly, there's this song that keeps running through my consciousness every time my brain stops for a moment to think - more a set of lyrics really. The refrain repeats over and over throughout the song. Its driving me nuts. Till the siren comes calling, calling... It's driving me evil, evil... "Siren Song" - Bat For Lashes Maybe I should listen to something pop songs *tries not to gag* for a while. |
| I am currently typing on the hotel computer at nearly 1:30 in the morning. A bunch of semi-drunk family members a busting up in the hall, preparing for something in the conference room. There's a sickening sweet smell of beer lingering in the air as doors keep slamming shut all along the hallway. In the distance country music is playing off of someone's radio. Ah, there's no place like home. Most of my life I've moved up and down California. I've hit every major area of the state - the back hills, the urban cities, the cookie-cutter land of suburbia, and the rolling fields of farm land. There's really no place for me to call a hometown, but the closet thing to it is Bakersfield. Much has changed since I moved away for the last time about seven years ago. There are times I look around and wonder where everything is. Then, there are times I remember the streets I walked with my friends during the summer time, using the change we found in the couch cushions to pay for slushees down at the corner market. Or the junior high school from hell that nearly killed...literally (long story). There are so many memories I have tied to this place. It is a graveyard of past mistakes, heartbreak, and humiliation. Yet, I keep coming back. I travel back out of love for my brother, for my sisters, and even for my father. This place that could have eaten me alive, for some odd reason, I come back to it hoping I won't feel the same sense of pain. Most of the time I can not revisit those places in the back of my mind. Its when I leave that everything floods back. I don't know why I'm writing this. There's some many other things I can write about since my sudden trip Friday. But as I sit in front of this strange, unfamiliar keyboard I find myself pouring out this small river of pain that dwells inside me. Maybe, one day, I'll figure out what the hell it all means. |
| If my memory is working today I believe it was good old Dick Clark that threw out the line that music is the soundtrack of our lives. This is true for me, has been since before I came out of the womb. My mother loves to reminisce about how she used to play music while my brothers and I were in utero, but it was me who seemed to like to party it up whenever the tunes got interesting. Since then I listen to a plethora of artists, bands, genres, composers, and anything else you can throw in there. What I find surprising is when my characters seem to do the same thing. The more I write, the more they take on their own musical tastes, some of which are not necessarily mine. It makes for intriguing writing. For example, I'm writing/messing with a story that came to me a couple of days ago while reading a kick ass book by Holly Black. Since I haven't "adopted" the concept yet, I figured this would be a perfect opportunity to hack at a piece longer than a 1000 words. Anywho, my character Hollis is a mix of Snowden, We Fell To Earth, Jimi Hendrix, and Tori Amos. What the other characters are, I have no idea yet. Usually, I give supporting character at least one song to call their own. Seems the fair thing to do.  Yet, my character Billie in a completely different novel loves all music as she's a wannabe composer. Again, intriguing. While Ashima (Yes, another separate character. Sue me.) will be based almost entirely in the work of Bat For Lashes. What is comforting to know is that many of my favorite authors make soundtracks to their books as well. Jenny Crusie, an awesome writer of comedy, says that each of her novels takes on a tone which creates its own soundtrack. She even talks about one day might having a novel idea to fit some of the music she likes, taking what happens to me in reverse. So, Mr. Clark, you're right. Just don't rub it in. |
| I was in a bit of a fender bender today. No damage physically to me or my mother. The back of Many Miles (my family's battle-scarred warrior Ford Escort) out a bit of ding, making the trunk hard to open. It goes along with many other smaller incidents that have happened over the past twelve years. That car is a trooper. Mentally - there's a bit of a dark cloud overhead. It was one of those accidents where, when it happened, there was nothing anyone could do but let it happen. The driver behind us took all the blame and the transaction of exchanging information was easy, no hassle. Still, the mind has a hard time letting go even if the incident is small. All in all, this should be an easy enough accident to get over. My guy was a bit worried, which made me feel a little bad. The distance between makes reassurances of a physical nature difficult. And he has a hard time believing I'm fine when I tend to underplay any type of injury. What can I say - I'm a bit of a dork. My main worry is for my mom who was driving at the time. She saw the crash coming before I did. Shock set in soon after. Its going to take her a while to let go of this, although I keep reassuring her that she has the reflexes of a cat. The accident could have been a lot worse had she not been on her game. But, true to form, my mom saved the day. Its funny though. These things you can never really anticipate, but when it doe finally happen, your mind scrambles. Or maybe, that's just me. |
| At this very moment I am completely skeeved out. Its to the point where I believe my skin is actually going to peel away from my muscular structure and crawl away. Most times this reaction has more to do with shock than actual content. Unfortunately, content is all I have at this moment and it is definitely real. Case and point, it has burned itself to my retinas. And I really, really wish I hadn't. Let me float the scenario. I was doing a bit of research for a short story I'm thinking about writing. The music is booming in my ears and I'm scrolling an intriguing article about the origins of ancient Greek mythology, when I come across a few links at the end for further reading. I'm in a pretty good mood setting the scene in my head on how things are going to play out, and think to myself - what the hell, it could be interesting. To be on the safe side I slide my cursor over and check to see if the link is legit. The link seemed to be safe, so I click. Very, very bad move. Probably one of the most disturbing scenes I've ever seen shot popped up on my screen. I'm both extremely disgusted and mortified at the same. Quickly, I exit the screen and do my best to keep myself from vomiting. After witnessing whatever the hell I just witnessed I feel dirty. Jesus. What the fuck is wrong with people? I can only imagine some poor schmuck, or even worse, a kid accidentally coming across the screen of complete nastiness. Yeech! Excuse me while I go scrub my eyes out. |
| A fitting title for the day. This week and a half of time off hasn't been exactly what I had hoped it would be. I got some reading into the works which has been nice. But my sleep cycle is so fucked that I'm surprised I'm not completely bat shit. I've been popping Melatonin (a natural sleep aid) like they're freaking M&Ms. At best I can sleep a couple hours at a time, and those hours are so crappy that its not even funny. And the funny thing is I try everything to knock myself out. I've tried warm milk, soothing music, chamomile tea, counting sheep, meditating, blacking out my windows to mimic night...you get the picture. Funny thing is almost all writers I know suffer from some sleeping issue. I'm a insomniac like the rest of them. One day I'm going to crash. My body or my brain is just going to burst. Still, my docs don't want to put me on any type of sleeping aid. I'm cool with that. Addiction to sleeping pills is the last thing I need. Although a full night of sleep would be awesome one of these days. But as I sit here typing some sleep would be awesome. My first class of the semester is in a few hours. I'm crashing my first class! A milestone in anyone's academic career. It would be nice to have some sleep under my belt before I do it. Unfortunately, I doubt that it will happen. It is close to eight in the morning and I have yet to capture any shut eye. This is going to be an interesting first experience.  In the end it doesn't really amount to any type of hill of beans. Crash or crash, my day of hitting the down below isn't happening today. Possibly tomorrow. Possibly next week. Possibly by the time I'm fifty. No matter what, I'm still kicking. |
I've created my first survey! (Technically its my second, but the first was for Helping Hearts, so that doesn't count. Technically.)
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lol Catch ya later friend.
