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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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| Life was never guaranteed to be easily. Hell - life wasn't guaranteed to be many things. Maybe it just by the skin of our teeth and the grace of the Divine Creator that we as a human race have made it as far as we have for stupidity is far too a common an affliction in this day and age. I was shooting for some funny anecdotes for this entry. Maybe a little haha's to make my one reader smile for just a few seconds, but I find I am out of the funny for the moment. In it's place is a sense of deep tiredness and uncertainty. The people closest to me seem to be going through a deep whirlpool of turmoil that leaks itself onto me. I don't mind being a shoulder or an ear. I just wish I could be of more help to them in their time of need. More and more in this past week I have found people I love dealing with the problems of addiction, hospitalization, layoffs, and more. What I ask in this early morning hour is - when will it all stop? When will there be a moment of peace on this Earth for everyone to take a deep breath and not worry about anything for a while? When will it all go away? I've neglected things to deal with life outside of WDC. The tranquility of this place has lost some of its peace. I want this to be a sanctuary again. I want, so very much, for everything to be okay for once. That hasn't happened in a very long time. And I can't help shake of feeling of: oh joy, oh joy, its Monday! |
| I come from a long line of hockey fans. Don't get me wrong, we love baseball just as much as the next guys (Go Angels!), but hockey is where the veins in the forehead get prominent play during the year. We take it seriously (kind of), maybe me more so than many folks. There's just something about the speed, the movement, the intensity, that seems to get to me and thousands of our Americans, Canadians, Swedes, Russians... My team, if you haven't figured it out already, is the Anaheim Ducks. They play with strength (sometimes too much), speed, and luck - my kind of team. I feel the Ducks truly came around after they lost the "Mighty" in their name, making them someone to look out for with the other big contenders like Chicago, San Jose, Michigan, the Rangers, and such. It takes a lot to overcome a freakin' movie franchise. The best thing about the team though is their current line of players. I can't say enough about the unity amongst the team. The Niedermayer Brothers, Chris Pronger, Ryan Getzlaf, Corey Perry, George Parros, Bobby Ryan, Jean-Sebastien (Jiggy) Giguere, Jonas Hiller, and my personal favorite - Teemu Selanne. When these guys get on the ice, they are a sight to see with connectivity and movement. They are not the best scoring team in the world, but they make up for it in defense and strength. I am proud to be a Ducks fan. (insert quacking here) However, my family doesn't necessarily feel the same way. We all have teams we love, which often conflicts with others. For example, my father is a hopeless Los Angeles Kings fan. The Kings, in all of their glory, have not once won the Stanley Cup since their inception in 1967. The closest they have come to winning was in 1992-1993 season where they lost to Montreal. Still, his faith is steadfast that one of these days the Kings will perhaps qualify beyond the post season. But the biggest conflict between family members though is between me and my mom. My mother hails from the Great Lakes state of Michigan, and has been an avid Red Wings fan for decades. We once went to a Ducks vs. Red Wings game up in Anaheim a couple of years back. In our respective jerseys, we happen to get seats in the Red Wings section where a bunch of Michiganers had made a pilgrimage to watch them play. Within seconds her accent was back as they were talking about back home and how the Wings were playing that year, their large signs at the ready for when the puck hit the ice. On principle, they wouldn't even speak to me - she wouldn't even speak to me - because I was the enemy! The Ducks kicked their booties all over the ice that night - go me! So, a friendly, familial rivalry has continued ever since. Each time the Ducks and Wings play a series together we put 10 bucks up for grabs to see who wins. I have never lost a game we've wagered on.  And there's a space in my pocket just waiting for the new ten dollar bill to fill.BTW, Ducks are winning 2-1 in the Semi-Finals! {e:evilcackle} |
| It is said that at the height of the "Space Race", the US spent millions of dollars on creating a pen that could be used by astronauts in space while experiencing zero gravity. The process took over a year, but the Space Pen was finally put into use to write upside down, under water, and at extreme temperatures. The Russians, however, simply used a pencil. I find this happens often, and Americans don't have the sole claim on this notion either. Too often we look so far ahead to advance ourselves in superiority that we miss the key to everything. Take the "Swine Flu" for example. The people needed to know about the flu to arm themselves - no one thought that by naming it the "Swine Flu" that pork futures would take a huge hit, bringing down that part of the economy. Not to mention that the H1N1 flu has nothing to do with pigs. Go figure. Having the morning and afternoon to reflect on life while trying to keep my stomach from heaving from a mild bug going around, I came to the realization that we work ourselves to the ground trying to invent the wheel all over again. It is said that there are no new ideas out there (see, I made this about writing after all  ) just creative ways to package old ones. Maybe that's true. Maybe every idea has been written, painted, explored, or created before. But do we stop ourselves from trying anyway? **If anyone comments on this, I'll give you a gift. I would really like a discussion on this.  |
| Today I found out that a professor of mine suddenly died of cancer last week. Professor Rosalinde Wilcox had taught at the college since for numerous years, and had brought to each of her classes a true sense of enthusiasm for art. Each subject, each lecture, enclosed an intriguing story behind it and an experience from her past we could draw on to remember information. Her life of study was inspiration, and the absence of her grace from this world is a loss for many. For me, the news of her death came at quite a shock as I had been planning on emailing her this evening after my classes were over. Professor Wilcox was a teacher I will always remember as engaging, not just as an instructor but as a person who got to know each of her student. She was a woman I admired for her strength of character, and her depth of knowledge. She was a teacher you went to class to hear speak. In this past week a raven has been following me around. They're not uncommon in California, but a single raven during a season where there are few captures ones attention. In the mythology around the world, including the Americas which I studied under Professor Wilcox, the raven is a sign of impending death. Although I don't always believe in signs, when I learned of her passing I immediately went to her teachings on the subject - more of a side note in a multitude of facts. Even if it was a coincidence, I think she would had gotten a kick out of the irony. I write this as my own personal memorial to Professor Wilcox. To remember that life is precious, and life can quickly fly by before we get a chance to truly explore its possibilities. One the key principles behind her teachings was that the memory of life lives on long after we leave this Earth. In pottery, in ruins, in statues, and in writing we can see what life once was, and celebrate that we are here to pass on that gift. In honor of her, this is my shard of pottery I leave in her memory for others to find. She was a one-of-the-kind woman and professor. She will be greatly missed. |
| Weird title, I know, but the song played by The Hombres is hilarious and catchy. I'm in a hilarious, catchy type of mood hence the song. One thing I've learned today is never leave WDC for a few days during sickness or you'll never catch up. Somehow the universe aligned for all the auctions I've donated packages to to end today. There's a stack of reviews I need to get through, awards to hand out, and cNote shops to make. The ironic part about this is that I volunteer for the two programs that help people in auction package jams, and they're full up on orders. If I wanted to buy these out I'd have to put all the people on a wait list. Everyone needs a theme song now and then. Imagine Rocky without Eye Of The Tiger - the horror. So, in light of all the deadlines in my life coming to a close I've adopted Let It All Hang Out as my mantra for the rest of the week. This might become a repeated thing, so you are all forewarned. Buenos Noches, amigos. I've got to head out for finals tomorrow. (spoken): "A preachment, dear friends, you are about to receive on John Barleycorn, nicotine, and the temptations of Eve" No parkin' by the sewer sign Hot dog, my razor's broke Water drippin' up the spout But I don't care, let it all hang out Hangin' from a pine tree by my knees Sun is shinin' through the shade Nobody knows what it's all about, It's too much, man, let it all hang out Saw a man walkin' upside down My T.V.'s on the blink Made Galileo look like a Boy Scout Sorry 'bout that, let it all hang out Sleep all day, drive all night Brain my numb, can't stop now For sure ain't no doubt Keep an open mind, let it all hang out It's rainin' inside a big brown moon How does that mess you baby up, leg Eatin' a Reuben sandwich with sauerkraut Don't stop now, baby, let it all hang out Let it all hang out "Let It Out (Let It All Hang Out)" - The Hombres |
| The hardest part about this entry is the fact that I feel like a drive-by blogger. Most of the entries I've made don't even cause for the scroll down option, which is just a down right shame. The worst part however is the fact that I'm trying overly hard to be funny...I do that when I'm not feeling like the perkiest person in the world. My grandfather is in the hospital. There, spilled it out like ripping off a band-aid. He went into surgery on Monday and come out okay although it was more extensive then the doctors had anticipated. This isn't his first brush with bad health, but my grandpa, he's a trooper. I wouldn't be surprised if he outlived the rest of the world's population on his idealism and charming ways. I blame the dreaded sore throat/current cold on why this hit me weird. I went a little weird when I was told this weekend. Then a great sense of denial, which lead to a whole burst of energy that fried itself about five minutes ago. And even worse (yep, it get's better) I went all girly on my guy tonight after a small thing. I hate doing that. Truly, deeply. In approximately two hours I'm going to get ready for class. Who knew that ceramics would be the class to throw me for a loop. But its a good thing, I get to work with my hands and let my mind not dwell on bad things for a while. So, yeah, I'm getting back into the groove of things. Baby steps as Bob says. |
I'm still alive.  There's a boatload on things going on - But I'll be back... |
| Symptoms: 101.5 Fever Throat - feels like I swallowed razorblades Weak as a babe Conclusion: Had a doctor's appt. a month in the making...they canceled on me today saying I could swing by in May. Damn. |
| So the bad days, if you read my last entry, have turned into backwards days. There was just something about today that just wasn't right. It's like wearing you shirt inside out and not noticing until you've already left the house. Or putting on a pair of socks only to realize they're two different colors. Like bad days, it still messes with the gray matter, but instead of the mental/emotional scramble its more like listening to "A Day In The Life" by the Beatles fifteen times in a row...not that I've done that. One of the good things about backwards days is that its not all bad. There is a small potential for something great to have happen as well. For example, I found out that I aced my term paper that I nearly killed myself on. Quite proud actually. My professor really enjoyed it. Now all I need to do is to translate it into a presentation. Should be good. Bad to backwards...could be worse. |
| Like laughing and STDs, bad days are catching. <------ (bad attempt at humor) Everywhere I turn there's someone, somewhere having a bad day. And by a bad day I don't mean can't-find-a-parking-space, the-darn-elevator-won't-work type of day. I mean the type of day that will stick in the back of your mind for days, if not years, to come. The type of bad day that changes everything you've ever known. I don't know what it is about today (technically yesterday) but I can tell you that I want it to stop. The people I care for, the people I love, heck, the people I can't stand much are hurting and there's nothing that can stop it except praying for the sunrise and that tomorrow (technically today) to be better. My day, personally, could have been worse. I'm laced up with band-aids on my fingers at the moment, but I still have my fingers so there's to glancing at the brighter side of life. In looking back, if I had stayed in bed like my body and mind were wishing me to, today might have been different. Then again, as I circle my wagons, bad days are catching...even if you are still in bed. There's definitely more to this topic, but my body is giving out on me. Exploration of bad days will have to wait until the 'morrow. |
| Well, I'm back home and slightly less sane for it. I love my family, would do almost anything for them, but when you're juggling six sibling under one roof at a time it can be difficult and brain-numbing. An interesting fact about me is that I have five brothers and three sisters. If you go in alignment with my mother's biological children I'm the youngest. If you go in alignment with my father's biological children I'm the eldest. And if you threw steps into the mix I'd be dead middle. Freud and Jung would have a field day with me. Sanity as I've stated before can be overrated. I made this trip on the "insistent suggestion" of my father. There are tricks to dealing with family, and I think every family has it's own way of dealing. My family, depending on which branch you speak of, hashes out everything in their unique ways. For example, my mom and elder brothers are of the stoic clan, which is the bane of many people's existence. We are some of the most tight-lipped people when it comes to pain or anger it's ridiculous. I've been exploring my emotional boundaries with my guy. In my mom's family our main motto is "Suck It Up". Severe a limb? Suck it up. Brokenhearted? Suck it up. With my guy that's not so easy because for the first time it feels dishonest. By holding back from him, I'm keeping vital information from him which is wrong. Weirdness to discover I can't do what I usually do with him. I'm pretty sure that's for the betterment of everyone... As for my father's side, well, we're just nuts. There's mountains of expectation. Of legacy. Of "debating". And depending on which member, a grand scale of manipulation. You have to be extremely strong of mind to survive that part of the family. Lesser people have been crushed under the suave heel of their cold, calculated determination. Boggles the mind sometimes how single-issue focused they can become. All of this is written in retrospect of what happens when I switch from one mindset to the next. Seriously, it messes with the gray matter. Switching from one mind to the other takes a toll on the body, and I'm starting to get a head cold... Ah, the joys of the familial love. |
| April Fool's Day. I feel the weirdness already, and I'm bracing myself the inevitable. But if the mess with technology keeps going on as it is, who needs pranks when catastrophe is right around the corner. More and more people I know are losing their computers, cell phones, iPods, or anything else remotely electronic. Heck, I even managed to kill my lamp and headphones in a space of three hours the other day. It is just plain sad. There will be more to this later on today as my brain just fried itself. 'Night. |
| Soooo... My little world is unraveling at the seams in nice, tiny sections, ending in a small pile of threads at the tips of my feet. In moments like this you can only look down and stare with "huh?" written all over your face. And like a elegantly prepared stew, all the ingredients better known as emotions take a while to boil together, mixing until all the heat seems to overflow from the top. This is the part where the "huh" turns into a scream. I haven't screamed yet, but the feeling is there at the base of lungs. What's been building has been under the burner for close to a week now. Harsh in execution, sure. But you have to admire the simplicity of the situation and the rightness of the timing. My emotional skin is still raw and the little girl inside me is still hiding in the bathtub, behind the shower curtain (long story). Still, it is time to take control, become proactive, right the course, and all that jazz. I'm not necessarily overjoyed at the prospect, but I know it is the right thing to do for the sake of all involved. Personally, I don't much care for sanity at the moment. Being rational and calm and understanding doesn't seem to have the same effect I'm searching. And, yet...the practical rational part of my personality is in full swing. Much of this is due to my best friend and love. He doesn't try to placate me, he simply runs with my thoughts and finds the funny/odd/weirdness in the situation to make me reach center again. Awesome man, my guy. In the end the world has to change, even mine, especially when I don't want it to. I'm happy to say I was comfortable with my life, but things need to change before the world explodes instead of unravels. Picture a leg swelling to a point where the doctor cuts into the skin to release the pressure so it doesn't burst. Both painful processes, but one saves the leg while the other leaves on tatters of what was. Can you feel the love? |
| I have a mid-term in less than four hours. There's a process I go through to do well. I study while I'm in class and the information is given out. I go over the material so it sticks to the brain. And after class, while I'm waiting for my ride home, I create a story to go along with the information. They've been pretty good too. *brushes imaginary lint off shoulder* The big thing is not to cram the day before. It screws me over. I go over notes and the study guide (if there is one) right before I go to bed, but that's it. If I cram too much the night before my mind gets flooded and I tank on test day. Its because of the tunnel vision I get. For example, right now there's a song currently on permanent rotation in my head - "Deep, Red Bells" by Neko Case. Not sure why or the meaning, but its there. Playing around in my head. Good luck to me however for I like the song. I've had some mishaps with Celine during the whole Titanic fiasco...*shudders to think* Anyway, this is me during the time of the mid-terms. Multiply this by about a thousand and you get me during finals. This year shouldn't be too bad, but you never know. Coffee gets hooked up to me like an IV. Ah, the good times. I can feel them coming. |
| Ever so swiftly can things change from morning to evening. A revelation came to me last night in the only way it seems to - through the bitter words of someone I love dearly. So I have decided to move forward and take all the blows with a smile. I don't know any other way to deal. There's not much for me to write, at least eloquently, so I've taken the lyrics of a song close to me now to describe my thoughts and feelings. Technically, it is stealing. But I like to think of it as highlighting great musical lyrics. I will be the answer At the end of the line I will be there for you While you take the time In the burning of uncertainty I will be your solid ground I will hold the balance If you can't look down If it takes my whole life I won't break, I won't bend It will all be worth it Worth it in the end ‘Cause I can only tell you what I know That I need you in my life And when the stars have all gone out You'll still be burning so bright Cast me gently Into morning For the night has been unkind Take me to a A place so holy That I can wash this from my mind The memory of choosing not to fight If it takes my whole life I won't break, I won't bend It will all be worth it Worth it in the end ‘Cause I can only tell you what I know That I need you in my life And when the stars have all burned out You'll still be burning so bright Cast me gently Into morning For the night has been unkind +"Answer" - Sarah McLachlan+ |
| Have you ever written something that you absolutely hate? I haven't until today. My growing loathing feelings towards this piece is approaching something catastrophic. If I haven't written this piece of meandering drivel electronically, I would have set it on fire and watched with glee as it burned. Yes, it really is that bad. Worse, I entered the piece of shit into a contest and can't get rid of it until it's reviewed. I'm almost willing to delete it anyway, but I submitted my name to contest, signing up for the full five weeks. Backing out because I despise what I've written makes me feel like I've broken a promise and turned coward. So, like a good little soldier, I going to stick out until the bitter end. The reviews I've been getting of this eyesore of my existence don't having me feeling any better about it either. I haven't felt so inept, inexperience, and worthless in a long time. Its almost like living with my father again. What's worse is the underlining sense of pity there seemed to be. Straight, harsh criticism I can handle. Pity just makes me see red. Weirdly enough vindication seems to be the thing I'm looking for most. After all is said and done, I'm going to tear the festering thing to shreds and make something better. I'm going to make something I can show off and feel proud. I going to create the poem like it was suppose to be made. Until then I'm going to curse the blinding disgrace of a poem with everything I have. |
| Water has always been a part of my life. My mother likes to reminisce with strangers and family alike about my earliest experiences with water. It was one of the few things that calmed me down when I was cranky. Still is. There is something about the feel of water against my skin or the sound of waves crashing and rain falling from the sky that brings all chaos to a standstill for me. Recently, my insomnia has taken a weird turn at the corner of Strangeville. I simply can't sleep anymore except in two hour bursts once a day, and the sleep I do achieve is less than restful. I don't mind. If I can keep my wits about me, my body functioning properly, and my sarcasm on full alert then I'm cool. And when the body starts to fatigue while the mind races a mile a minute I just hop into the shower and let my mind off the leash. In this last visit to the shower (about twenty minutes ago) I started contemplating what I'm going to do next here on WDC. My whirlwind weekend with being accepted in the Rising Star Program and becoming a Preferred Author still has me in a state of shock. But I realized that I want to expand my writing horizons in the next few months. I want to push myself past the comfort zone. Sure, its safe where I am right now, but nothing can truly happen if you stand on the sidelines forever. So, as the cool water poured down my head, I started to plan. The biggest thing I want to tackle is the novella/short story project I've had rattling in my brain for over a year now. In total there is far more novella projects going on, but I figure I'd start with one then work my way through the others. I need a starting point, and I need it soon. The deadline for the first piece done is by the end of the month. With luck, lots and lots of luck, I can have a very rough draft done by my WDC account birthday. Washing from head to toe, I ran the tidbits of my character through my brain like a movie. The project is more a collection of short stories based around one central character. It'll span one year in her life facing different, difficult, everyday problems. But I want each short to be a stand alone, and relate to her without having to go back to previous stories to figure out what the hell is going on. I'm shooting for funny-realistic-gut wrenching themes instead of the usual stuff I've been reading. I closed my eyes and let the water run over me. I had the skeleton of my plan. Now all I need is the meat, which will take mucho time...something I don't necessarily have a lot of. My family is on the brink of something like always. My classes are reaching their crescendos soon with four papers looming in my future. My life and love are approaching critical points. Something, eventually, will have to give. But not right now for the waters have soothed me. And I've got a plan.  |
Hope springs eternal in the human breast; Man never Is, but always To be blest: The soul, uneasy and confin'd from home, Rests and expatiates in a life to come. ~Alexander Pope Good intentions -- horrible results. More times than not good intentions has a tendency to create havoc. Or start war. But, and here's the kicker, I still have good intentions anyway. Today started my Spring Break. Go me...kind of. I plan to use this time playing catch-up with all the things piling up on my mental to-do list. Campfire additions, reviews, cNote creating, and writing. Too often all things fall away to weirdness. I have plans. And by God, they will get done by Hell or high water. This is a preemptive blog leading to another later celebrating the Irish of today. Just keep in mind - hope springs eternal...if we let it. |
| ...I miss my mind the most. IT told me a couple of days ago that it was going on a coffee break. I haven't seen it since. There goes to show ya that you can't trust your mind with any measure of freedom. This is post No. 40. Unfortunately, I truly have nothing for you. You as in the one lone person floating aimlessly out there in the WDC atmosphere who reads this on occasion. I appreciate your sporadic support, and know that I will give you something soon. Its just that the empty space in my head leaves me with nothing to tell you. Mea Culpa. Adios. |
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