Comments on 9/22/88 Journal entry

Re MARIAN: "...Also, very tactless. She’s a user." Wow. Such frikkin contradictory images. And a little harsh. I was apparently not at all concerned be who was going to be reading this.

SIG “…the implications…” maybe she just didn’t feel like talking, maybe she was ticked that I was trying to turn friendship into something more… yeesh, Jason… “Take her on as a friend…” Poor choice of words, sounds like I’m being magnanimous and deigning to allow her to be my friend, under a strict burden, when all I meant was that I felt hurt by the turnaround in how she was acting towards me.

Leia Mais…

Comments on my 9/17 1988 Journal entry

Comments (italicized) - what I was thinking while I was typing in the latest travel journal posting:

"It’s a definite cry for help, and, as usual, I think I’ll try to be the life preserver." Magnanimous of me, eh?


"...reminding me of (I hate to say it) a Pillsbury dough lady." I am an ass.


"It always has something to do with the situation, though this could get him into barsha trouble." "Barsha” means “a lot”


After the enrty about Avi: I know I talked about promiscuity a lot, but in my defense, I wasn’t judging… just observing. Sex is a good thing! Hell, I even tried to recognize when I was being chauvinistic back then. I was then, just as I am today, that noting about sex should be shameful. Except, you know, having it :P.

"...showed me how to give 'putas' to two girls at once. She smokes, but not much." “putas”? huh? I know it isn’t the Spanish word…

"Quebecian, so French is her main language." “quebecian”? Yeesh.


"By the way, “putas” is to tuck in, sing a song, or tell a story & kiss your kids goodnight." Ooooooh.

Leia Mais…

Angst of a teen

There's a lot of whining in the Mauritania Blog, aapparently. And I wasn't so good at holding onto money, apparently. Lots of insecurities showing through.

Also, either I was trying to be bitingly funny or I just didn't use the word "heathens" correctly.

Leia Mais…

I am an IDIOT

Seriously, I want to edit or at least make comments about my journal from when I was in Tunisia, but I don't want to mar the "record". I haven't been doing much other writing, just inputting the journal, inputting my old writings, and writing about my kids... but I thiink I'm going to use this as a place to vent about my idiot 18 year old, self-important, overly-hormonal self.

I was full of self-pretention, apparently. I thought I was being good, kind and helpful, but while reading some of these entries, I fell like I was kind snobbish & stuck up - not to mention seriously after a girlfriend. Let me quote:

8/22/88 "Michelle talks. And Talks. Doesn’t quite know when to stop or know exactly what kind of input to contribute to a conversation."

"I somehow ended up leading the conversation on the way to the Post. Sig was quiet at the time, feeling out the situation, speaking only when spoken to. Michelle was saying many things, mostly irrelevant. Scott talked a little more than Sig, but I was doing all the relevant questions and talking. God, I felt needed. Brad was right about me. He told me I make friends easily and 'everyone' knows who I am in 'any, group. It feels good to bring people closer together and closer to themselves."

8/27/88 "I seriously wish I had someone to talk to, a person who understands what I’m saying. Most of the other AFSers would, but some wouldn’t. Amy seems too superficial and Michelle, well, she’s Michelle."


9/5/88 "I guess I am now the 'leader' -> spokesperson of the whole group, I always ask the questions and answer the q’s asked. I’m also the class clown & taskmaster general of game time."

"J. is my co-leader, but we really don’t know how we got or jobs. Ali tells me (us sometimes) what to do, where to tell the others to go, etc. Bought us cokes, ate dinner with us."

"POLAR BEAR!! What power. The entire place is trying to figure it out."

9/6/88 "We ate & made a 'Breakfast, Lunch & Dinner Club' with Ali as the “head honcho”. We get cold water, the best meats, etc. It’s great!"


As for hormones, besides pining over one person a LOT (at least in these first few entries, we have things such as (though to be fair, I didn't realize that Europpean women were much less conservative than those in the US):

9/5/88 "What a View.
"AVI (from Switzerland [?] -> no, Greenland) is one of the 4 girls who volunteered to stay in with the guys’ dorm room (there weren’t enuff beds in the girls’).
"Anyway, it’s 1 AM, she’s just wearing a skimpy top; AND –almost-see-through panties. She just got off her bed (across from mine) & turned around. She bent over to look for something, and… shit.
"Needless to say, she’s not bad looking.
"Sweeeeeeet Dreeeeeeeams."

Sigh. If I need to rant about my younger PITA self, I'll use this blog.

Leia Mais…

Oy

It's been far too long already since I've written. My self indulgence isn't getting indulged, and I need to figure out where to either get the willpower to do it or the time in the day - I'm not sure which it requires more of. I've managed to write about my kids, which is good, and get some of my journal entries entered, but that's about it. Nothing really new emanating from my brain. I've been having a bunch of wild dreams, but can't for the life of me remember them to write 'em down. Well, except for one where all the hair on the top of my head had fallen out, leaving just a halo/ half halo. This didn't bother me, the horror of my dream was that I looked like my father.

Go figure.

I need to eek some more writing time.

Leia Mais…

Blog-attack

Yes, technically "Cardiac Arrest" Arrest is not a cause of death, but the COD version is "Sudden Cardiac Death."

It seems like a non-sequitur, but really it's been somethingthat's been bouncing around my head lately. Blame work.

I am currently writing 4 blogs. well, sort of 4 blogs... two are things that I am entering from my past - one is a story site, the other a site that has my journal enrties (holy hell, was I an idiot 18 year old... I've only written a couple of posts and I already feel like I need to write letters of apology to at least three people (Michelle, Scott, and Sigrid, I'm looking at you). I was apparently self-imortant and narssicisti as well. I know, prolly redundant but still. the only thing I can offer in my defense is to say that I was trying to break out of the mold that I'd been poured into while growing up in Albany - we all had grown up together and all looked at each other in certain ways. I had changed, but I felt like the peole that I was around hadn't really changed their view of me... oh nevermind, I'm babbling.

And it's, uh, not narcissistic at ALL to have four blogs. Nope. Nu-uh.

At least it get's me writing something again. besides the past stuff, I've got this one - the writing about writing and one kinda joiurnal for my kids. I love 'em to death, and want them to see how I saw them one day.

Writing progress:

1.5 pages of non-fiction about my kids.

Leia Mais…

“The Twelve Days of Sightlife”

Hey, a little writing time at Sightlife. Katie, Patrick & I came up with:

“The Twelve Days of Sightlife”

On the first day of Sightlife, my donor sent to me
A cornea so that I can see.

On the second day of Sightlife, my donor sent to me
Two statline calls and a cornea so that I can see.

On the third day of Sightlife, my donor sent to me
Three Cell drop-outs, two statline calls And a cornea so that I can see.

On the fourth day of Sightlife, my donor sent to me
Four calling docs, three Cell drop-outs, two statline calls And a cornea so that I can see.

On the fifth day of Sightlife, my donor sent to me
Five golden donors!
Four calling docs, three Cell drop-outs, two statline calls And a cornea so that I can see.

On the sixth day of Sightlife, my donor gave to me
Six sloppy writings,
Five golden donors!
Four calling docs, three Cell drop-outs, two statline calls And a cornea so that I can see.

On the seventh day of Sightlife, my donor gave to me
Seven late packages, six sloppy writings,
Five golden donors!
Four calling docs, three Cell drop-outs, two statline calls And a cornea so that I can see.

On the eighth day of Sightlife, my donor gave to me
Eight empty gas tanks, seven late packages, six sloppy writings,
Five golden donors!
Four calling docs, three Cell drop-outs, two statline calls And a cornea so that I can see.

On the ninth day of Sightlife, my donor gave to me
Nine poor med soc-es, eight empty gas tanks, seven late packages, six sloppy writings,
Five golden donors!
Four calling docs, three Cell drop-outs, two statline calls And a cornea so that I can see.

On the tenth day of Sightlife, my donor gave to me
Ten Hep C Abs, nine poor med soc-es, eight empty gas tanks,
seven late packages, six sloppy writings,
Five golden donors!
Fou'r calling docs, three Cell drop-outs, two statline calls And a cornea so that I can see.

On the eleventh day of Sightlife, my donor gave to me
Eleven confirmed MRSAs, ten Hep C Abs, nine poor med soc-es, eight empty gas tanks,
seven late packages,Six sloppy writings,
Five golden donors!
Four calling docs, three Cell drop-outs, two statline calls And a cornea so that I can see.

On the twelfth day of Sightlife, my donor gave to me
Twelve bouts of sepsis, eleven confirmed MRSAs, ten Hep C Abs, nine poor med soc-es,
eight empty gas tanks, seven late packages, six sloppy writings,
Five golden donors!
Four calling docs, three Cell drop-outs, two statline calls
And a cornea so that I can see.

Leia Mais…

This has been a rough week, writing-wise. Work has been extremely busy (lot's of people dying & needing to have next of kin talked to about donating tissues), coupled with a jam-packed home life, there hasn't been much time to do a lot of anything. This is just another excuse, I know, but at least I'm trying to write right now, damnit! I'm Gumby, damnit!

Updating my other site with my past works is coming along as well. I doubt that anyone actually reads these things, but if they do, they'll find mostly crap from a long, long time ago. I think I'm gonna start a site of my journal entries, too, from the way back maching, where peole actually wrote things with a quill and parchment, or something like that.

Writing progress:
Nothing new except for this blog post

Leia Mais…

RZFH

Cautionary tales: What sort of cautionary tale has not been addressed? Over-reliance on technology? Under reliance on technology? Too much human-computer interface? Too little human computer interface? Robot zombies From Hell?

That last one isn’t really a cautionary tale. It just seems to be a funny title. I wonder how that would work… the “…From Hell” part is easy; you could go with Hell hell, eg, Devil, underworld, Hades etc. Or you could go with an actual geographical location, like Hell, MI. As for a robot zombie… I supposed it would have to be a robot that had gained sentience, then was disconnected/shut down, then turn back down after a memory wipe or somesuch… if it was a robot with a human brain (I guess like the Cybermen), it’d be more of a cyborg…

Bah, enough of that line of thought. I’m sure that I could whip up some pulp sci fi with that … even make it a series. “Robot Zombies From hell” then “Robot Vampires From Hell” then “Robot Aliens From Hell”... wait, maybe I am onto something.
I’ll mull that over… that could actually be something awesome. Intentional Cheese.

Update: A quick Google search shows that there are 5 pages that have used the phrase “Robot Zombies From Hell”. Something to think about.

Writing progress:

Nothing new except for this blog post

Leia Mais…

Fat Sunday

Thanksgiving came and went with very little writing. Lots of food – lots and lots of food, for just the four of us – but not many words. There’s me, my wife, my 5 year old and our year and a half toddler… I made way too much, but it was worth it. As a vegetarian, I went the Tofurky route (it’s better than anyone thinks it is; I should know cause I’m the world’s worst vegetarian… I’d be a donutarain if they’d let me). But by far my favorite thing was a recipie I stumble across on the intarweb; Two-Ingredient Pumpkin Cake.. . Can of Pumpkin and Yellow cake mix. Bake in a medium pan for 28 minutes at 350 – it’s tasty, especially with the glaze (1.5 c. powdered sugar, 3 T apple cider, 1 t pumpkin pie spice, mx well).

But this blog really isn’t about the food. It’s about the words, and the journey to writing. It’s about discipline, I guess, the discipline to write, while not every day, at least 5 days a week. I suppose that it could be about recipes, as it can be about anything that I want it to be. If writing about recipes help me to figure out how to write the Next Great American Novel, or lead me to a place that helps me define a cautionary tale for a sci-fi piece, or even just gives me a good joke, then I’ll write down recipes.

While I did not do MUCH writing, I did do SOME writing, and some drawing as well. I got an idea for a funny kids’ book, mostly funny for the adults rather than the kids, but I think, especially with the right artistic twist, it would be funny for kids, too. It requires me jumping back and forth between kid mindset and adult.. the kid part really isn’t hard for me, it’s the adults I have a hard time relating to. I wrote about 15 pages, but with an average of 2 paragraphs peer page, it really isn't that much.

As for the title of this post... I've eaten waaaaaay too much this weekend.

Writing Progress:
15 Pages, childrens genre

Leia Mais…