Recidivus

Mon, 18 Feb 2008 18:19:08 GMT

With the amount of work and other things I have to do, I feel recently less like I was run over by a bus than I was run over by a bus, resurrected, and then trampled. Very tired. Drowning in lots of garbage that has come up in lots of areas of life all at once.

Therefore, when I say 'don't bug me,' I mean it. Don't. You'll only piss me off. I've reached the point where I want to hear nothing and I mean absolutely nothing.

That is all.

Owwie

Mon, 04 Feb 2008 16:44:39 GMT

The day's barely started and already it's kinda crappy. My wrist popped last night when I went to get out of the shower and it still aches despite the fact I wasn't using it at all before. Work was an absolute nightmare yesterday. I see no point to the Superbowl, never have, and yesterday just confirms to me that people around me have no lives outside of sports, the end.

I think on most matters, unless someone catches me on AIM and makes contact totally necessary, I'm going to be a complete hermit for awhile. Thanks all for understanding.

Lost

Sun, 27 Jan 2008 16:46:17 GMT

As predicted, lost the contest. I guess I should have known there was no hope when third place won because 'it had a crazy plot.' Isn't that why stories shouldn't win? WTF? It looks like either you had to know the person running the contest or come up with something popular among the young teenagers to win. Disgusting.

No more contests. No more writing for the time being unless it's for fun.

Yes, this is my journal. I'm allowed to rant in it. Nothing further to add in terms of life itself. Most posts concerning that aren't very exciting anyway.

Well....

Fri, 11 Jan 2008 07:05:57 GMT

I don't even have a career in writing and I already feel like a washed up hack whose days of doing anything even remotely good are over.

What's up with that? I thought it only got this depressing after you actually published something.

And in other news:

Losing this contest too. Oh yes indeed. Go me.

Ah..

Wed, 09 Jan 2008 19:37:52 GMT

...To say I have no need for most people would be putting it mildly. Humanity, I despair. If you as a whole find 'holidays' like Valentine's Day justifiable, I weep for you. I'm already seeing decorations. They burn my eyes. I have no need of them, single or otherwise.

From this moment forth, romantic companionship is as nothing to me. I have my cats. I don't need adherent, desperate or clingy man-children as in the past. Real men, the sort that stick with me through thick and thin and don't change their minds about whether they love me based on the color socks I'm wearing or anything as equally stupid, are welcome. The rest of you can die in a corner alone.

Man-children, hell has a special place for you. People like you have screwed up my sense of what being in love is like, and for my friends as well.

Bastards.

Mwahaha

Wed, 02 Jan 2008 05:02:52 GMT

Four incarnations later, and the contest entry is done. Complete and utter crap in that I really one day need to edit/revise it and it's completely not my best work by any means, but it's submitted. There are 38 entries total. Thirty-'effin'-eight. Wow man, just, wow.

I don't have a snowball's chance in a pressure cooker, but at least I made a deadline and can compete in something. My entry, started last night, was about 24 pages long total. Wonky spacing for 'net reading aside, I'm sure if it was done in a standard way it'd be closer to maybe..18 pages?

Head hurts, but I feel accomplished. Yay.

Festive New Year

Sun, 30 Dec 2007 18:55:13 GMT

I'm off to a party tomorrow night with some friends. Will also be pulling the mad rush to finish my contest entry and hoping against hope to get it done as of midnight the first (when the person running it is accepting the absolute last entries). I won't be around much until after New Year's, after which I plan on being the laziest human being I can aspire to be. I've really broken my ass over the past few months, have undergone a lot of crap, and can honestly say to myself that I've friggin' earned it, dammit.

Happy New Year, folks.

I love/can pretty well tolerate most of you.

The rest of you can drink battery acid.

Have a good day.

Ugh...

Mon, 24 Dec 2007 00:31:51 GMT

Took a quiz after a horrific day at work.

The results were:

Your Score: Independent Soul.

You scored -18 Extroversion, -7 Sensitivity, and -4 Openness!

You are calm and logical, but not unemotional. You are an introvert, at heart, preferring to read alone than be subjected to the crush and noise of a big party or bar. You have a few friends and family, whose presence you welcome - to a point. Even they can wear on your nerves eventually, and you need to retreat back into your personal space for a while so you can recharge. Your energy comes in bursts, after which you need a long nap or a couple of evenings at home to recuperate.

You are comfortable with yourself, and reasonably confident. You want the friendship and goodwill of others, but you are not willing to sacrifice your principles in order to get it. If your close friends need something that you can provide, however, you will be the first to offer it.

You are a good and sympathetic listener, and are aware of your friend's emotional states. With your very close friends, you will open up, but rarely - you don't like to burden people with your problems. At the same time, though, you are honest and are not willing to alter the truth for the sake of convenience. Among strangers you are reserved, and may resort to making jokes to disguise your true feelings.

While you are not afraid of conflict, you do not seek it, either. When you are hurt or insulted, you feel that you have a choice to make. You can choose to take the up on it and defend yourself, or you can let it pass. Your decision may depend on how well you know the person, how personally you take the insult, or simply what mood you are in that day. Your friends may not always know how you are going to react, for that reason. Whatever you reaction, though, you will be logical, rational and unnervingly accurate: a measured strike.

Your daemon's form would represent your calm, introverted nature, your cool logic, and your impatience with crowds of people. He or she would probably whisper ironic comments in your ear, give logical advice and try to hide his or her soft side from everyone, even you.

Suggested forms:
Peregrine Falcon, Snowy Owl, Snow Leopard, Siberian Tiger.

Link: The Golden Compass Daemon Test written by wolfcaroling on OkCupid Free Online Dating, home of the The Dating Persona Test
View My Profile(wolfcaroling)

Other than that, nothing I feel like discussing is going on.

So---

Wed, 12 Dec 2007 15:48:44 GMT

--Back to not sleeping well again as a result of unnecessary stress. Fun.

Had to share...

Tue, 04 Dec 2007 20:42:20 GMT

http://www.editorandpublisher.com/eandp/news/article_display.jsp?vnu_content_id=1003657196

Click. Read. Please be advised that the drinking of liquid while reading isn't recommended.

After reading this, I became of the firm opinion that Ann Coulter could do with being spayed. Or, alternatively, getting a good old fashioned lobotomy with a rusty grapefruit spoon.

Mon, 03 Dec 2007 04:36:02 GMT

I have determined that short of a miracle, I'm not getting the damn story done in time for December 31st. Have therefore given up on doing it as a contest entry. Is yet to be seen whether or not I give up on the story in its entirety.

Mwahahaha

Fri, 30 Nov 2007 03:08:08 GMT

Who did a little over 8,000 words today?

Me. Yeah baby.

(I know this has become little more than a progress log. Apologies to those looking to read actual content; such updates will be resuming soon).

Aim for the moon---

Wed, 28 Nov 2007 15:38:42 GMT

Yesterday wasn't as productive as I'd have liked it to be--I was awoken early to my mother whining over how she couldn't get to her e-mail so I had to help with that. Just for occassions like that, my parents are getting The Idiot's Guide to Computers for Christmas.

Got writing done, but it was only 6,500 words and not the 8,000 I was hoping for. Part two to this thing is going to be long, but once it's done part three provides a little of a time skip to alleviate the pressure of 'must portray everything in detail,' that I've been feeling. With about a month to go, I have two (hopefully shorter) parts to complete, one of which I've already started somewhat and have more written down on in a notebook. All I have to do is not fail at doing this. If I don't make the contest I think I'll finish it and put it up somewhere to be read anyway, but aside from some very minor editing I won't be bothering any more with it. I spent a good portion of yesterday stressing out about how I won't be making the deadline, but if I don't, I don't. I'll be very disappointed and angry at my own laziness and lack of time (I realize now just how much time I waste at that job), but something needs to come of this piece even if it's not a contest entry.

Tonight after my 7 hour shift of extreme boredom, I plan on doing more writing. How much I'm not sure, but something.

I also got a very short commission to take after the holidays for some extra cash. Told the buyer I can't do anything extremely long or involved since I have other projects, but it seems they're willing to take me up on it anyway. Heh, now I know how it feels to work every day with little to no break whatsoever. It's not fun in the least but in some ways has its own rewards.

Largely, aside from an overwhelming drive to write, I've felt numb or stressed. I have no other concerns in the world about anything else except for this writing.

The tea I have coming should take care of the stress.

It won't be pretty but...

Sun, 25 Nov 2007 15:23:53 GMT

Have been writing my rear end off when I get home from work at night, hence my absence from communication of late. I've been trying to make a pretty good pace with the words for this story--even on nights where I'm exhausted already from the job I try for at least 2,000 words. On my days off where I get the day to myself without fear of constant interruption I try for anywhere between 8-10,000 words. Sounds extreme, but as the expression goes, 'if you want something badly enough, you have to really work for it.' Or something.

It doesn't help that my muse (or whatever most artists/writers call their source of OMGMUSTMAKETEHART) is a slave-driver. Throughout the course of getting morons shrimp it's poking and prodding and whispering sly things into my mind's ear. It makes me want to write but by the time I get home and get the lap top on, part of me is really beat and just doesn't want to do it. I have to force myself. Not a lot of fun, but if you're hoping to one day get good at anything, it requires doing a lot you don't really want to do all the time.

Speaking of the job, I've finally got a replacement hired. She's starting the week after next and will probably require a few weeks' training, so I won't be getting out of seafood right off the bat. After I leave, I'm not entirely sure what I'll be doing, but I want to try something new. I'm pretty sure they're going to try to stick me back up front on registers, though. Uck. Friggin' hellhole.

By now the initial parts to each section of story I'm writing have gotten pretty large, so it requires me breaking those parts into chapters before I post (if I finish in time to post, that is). I started the ending and have the more important bits written down on looseleaf for transcribing into Word when I get to that section. I'm going to shoot to give myself at least a day to edit before submitting it.

For now though, I've been working early both yesterday and will be doing so again today because my manager had off yesterday and is leaving early today. Need to get the hell away from retail. After the holidays and this contest, will concentrate more on book work so I can take school math entrance test and getting back in there. Right now must also do more holiday shopping as well and get more scotch tape to wrap things with.

Work ramble

Thu, 22 Nov 2007 00:16:40 GMT

I look at most people who come into my store and wish great plague upon them. It's tiring, all said and done, since there are many people who frequent a grocery store. The closer to the holidays, the more people come in for gift-wrap and the knick-knacks you find on the shelves. Or maybe, worse yet, we're having an in-store special on slaughtered cow, fowl and fish.

That's when all the real lunatics come out. I've determined in my two years of retail experience there must be a magical time of The Sale, a frenzy the like of which can be best explained when watching Stephen King's 'The Shining' on a full moon. The Little Old Ladies, motorized scooters and bad perfume, come out for the 50% off deals. The Foreign People From God-Knows-What-Country are all looking for $1.99. Heaven forfend if what you have on sale isn't marked down $1.99 just for them. You will be asked why it's not $1.99. When you try to explain with your best hand gestures why not, it results in you becoming the Bad Salesperson.

My boss is always on the lookout for the Bad Salesperson. Anyone and everyone is a prime target. He is R. Lee and you are Private Pyle. But, he has one thing the fictional drill sergeant never did--he is chock full of false charisma, bad hair gel and smarmy charm.

With these things in mind, you'll understand why I ask God daily why He didn't give me the divine ability to smite the stupid.

"I want the salmon that was in the flyer for $2.99 a pound!"

The scream doesn't get a preamble. No 'hello,' no 'good evening' and I've been told to jump off the Golden Gate with more charm and warmth. I look to the phone and the built-in clock (five minutes slow, of course) tells me it's past six PM. For an hour, I've been staring at the insipid nutcracker they have stationed on the customer service desk across the store. That frozen smile that proclaims die you bastards in conjunction with a beady-eyed glare that has all the trustworthiness of an inner city street hoodlum. It knows something I don't, I'm sure of it. The Christmas songs are all on, piped in from a godforsaken place in California where the corporate office is located, and blinking lights are up all over the store.

I wish I was born an epileptic right about now.

As it is, I make myself smile and walk over to the counter. "I'm sorry, ma'am, that salmon just sold out an hour ago." Should have been here on time, wench.

I can accept the Lord didn't make all of His creatures beautiful. What I can't accept is when someone takes what God makes and makes it uglier inside and out.

My eyes are assaulted by a 5'2 peroxide blonde. In December, she's opted to wear spandex bottoms with a sweater. This 'sweater' leaves about as much to the imagination than a bikini designed by Hugh Hefner. Did she not weigh a good 180 pounds, I'm sure someone out there might have found that beguiling. By now the smile is entirely fake and the palms are more than a little sweaty inside their latex prisons. My mind immediately calls her Petunia. As in, the animated pig.

"What do you mean it sold out?" Petunia stares up at me with one good eye while the lazy one drifts left to probe dimensions unknown. I can feel an eye-twitch beginning, but other than that, nothing breaks the veneer of obscene calm I've thrown up to disguise my innermost loathing. The smile becomes sweeter--only children's cartoons can hope to outdo me now.

"The last piece was sold about an hour ago." I dare not suffix this with a 'ma'am.' Doing this only tells them they have the power in this conversation and I'm not about to let go of my hold on that. Store policy be damned.

"Well!" You'd have thought someone just told her that her lottery winnings went to the Charity for Decent Clothing While in Public. "I expected better from a store like this. I come here every week to do my shopping. Ever since I moved here from Florida, I---"

Dear God, it's come without warning. The Epic Tale of My Life as Told by the Customer. In most cases, all we'd need to do is set it to music and have the words be in Italian so it could be the stuff of great tragedy. I switch tactics and my head begins to nod like a cheap bobble-head's. It's become something of an instinct these past two years. The stream of words eventually stop. I'm not sure she's registered that I'm not really listening.

A manicured fingernail jabs the glass. Michaelangelo painted something similar to the pose once, I believe it was Man reaching for God. Well, lady, in this case the glass is in the way. Fail.

"Okay, since you don't have my salmon, I want tilapia instead. Four nice pieces."

Snark bubbles to the surface. No, sorry, all I have today are the crappy pieces of tilapia, you missed the good ones.

I take four and set them on the scale. She leans in to eye them, goes to pick one up and hold it between her thumb and forefinger. Damn, I think, one more piece of perfectly good product I now need to burn unless she buys it. The ever-present Smile of Retail has now become predatory, more the bearing of teeth as she scrutinizes it. C'mon, lady, quarter after six here, need walkies by seven...

"Don't you have any bigger pieces?"

"They're all cut by a supplier. I don't do them here. They're all the same size."

Another indignant look, as though I've taken away her birthday. "I guess I can take those." And then those piggy eyes see the crab legs on sale. "And I need six of those."

No, you need air to breathe. You need a diet. The snark is ever-present. You don't need crab legs. But I go to procure six with patience that would make Saint Francis proud and put them in their bag to be weighed up.

"No, no, I don't want those. I need these." Again, finger meets the glass and I have to put back what I have already to duck into the case for six specific crab legs. These suckers have spines like needles, thicker than a rose's. All I have are latex gloves.

Through the glass, I can hear Petunia jab with an 'Excuse me, excuse me, that one, that one!' Perhaps she should have considered doing this earlier, like when God was giving out the brains. I get the six and weigh them, print the tag. Already her hand is extended, waiting. I envision for just a second getting another of those legs and using it like a baseball bat to the side of her skull. What I say is,

"Is there anything else I can get you?" Always have to be the good little grocery tool. Somewhere up front, the Boss is gelling his hair and waiting for something he can do to earn his pay. Yelling at an employee for being nasty to and/or assaulting a customer is the perfect chance.

"No." Cold, flat, as she drops her things in her cart and starts to strut off. Ah, well, maybe she's meeting Porky somewhere.

"Have a good night, then." And may you choke on it all.

The nutcracker is staring at me from across the store again. Something in its eyes changes in the blinking lights, those monuments to false cheer, this Christmas they've erected in Hell.

"Excuse me, excuse me, miss, miss!"

Never call me 'miss' if you value your limbs. I look across the counter to see an old man, clearly deaf as a post.

"Yes?" I all but shout across the chasm between his common sense and mine.

"That salmon you had for $2.99 is gone!"

The observational skills, the genius! My eyes chance a meeting with the nutcracker again. That smile has grown.

45 minutes to go.

I paste on my smile.

I think...

Tue, 20 Nov 2007 01:29:26 GMT

....I'll be going to sleep for the next several days until this freaking cold passes, work be damned. The end.

Dear Boss,

I understand your frustration when I say I'm calling out sick. Really, I do. There's nothing worse than not having a closer for a department that doesn't get business.

But for the sake of your own reference, when you answer the phone and I tell you I'm sick and won't be making it in, the socially acceptable response isn't to sigh as though someone's told you a dog's vomited in your shoe. There's also no real call to say, 'Didn't you already ask off for the holidays or something, come on,' like I'm faking being sick in order to get a day off. As any other boss I've worked with knows, I show up on time every day and don't call out unless I really am not doing well or something else major come up. I'm not the sort of employee who calls out sick every other week, so kindly stop treating me as such.

In future, please refrain from being accusatory in conversations. It doesn't really make you look good and most people who work with you have said on more than one occasion they can't stand your guts. Have yourself a lovely day, and here's to hoping you eventually learn some social graces.

Yours,

The (Genuinely) Ill Seafood Clerk

Wahoo

Sun, 18 Nov 2007 15:55:23 GMT

So story writing continues, as well as small preoccupations that are ultimately of no consequence keeping me busy, i.e., the job. Open letter to certain individuals concerning an incident that happened about a week ago at the job:

Dear Drunk Guy,

Yes, I asked you if you'd like help because if you'll notice, I'm wearing the classic grocery tool uniform, meaning it's my friggin' job to ask you. This doesn't mean I like you, and certainly not that I'd like to date you. You're 45, reek of booze, and have known me for two minutes. In fact, you called me 'sir' when you first saw me, making me wonder if you cared what gender I was at all. Why yes, now that you specifically have asked me, I've been happily married for all of five seconds. To someone non-existent ~~since I've given up on finding anyone worth my time~~, but you don't need to know that. Now, if you were in your late twenties/early thirties perhaps, hot, and not drunk, you might get a date if you're extremely lucky, but today is not your day and tomorrow isn't looking too good either.

GTFO of my store, kthx. May alcohol cause permanent damage to your liver. Dumbass.

Yours,

Aggravated Seafood Clerk

Halfway done part two of story. I think. Should be ultimately done by the end of the month and have already begun to jot down how the ending scenes should go so I can just copy/paste when I reach the very end before going back to edit. By now I no longer care that some plot elements are cheap; I never claimed I was Stephen King or making the Great American Novel. In the end, I just ask people to take it for the poorly written piece of crap it's going to be, and if they like it, fine, if not, there are many copies of Anne Rice's Jesus Christ the Lord out of Egypt for you all to read. Actually, I've been by turns too stressed/depressed to care too much about anything of merit recently, so I'm slogging through life one day at a time and hoping a freak fire made by Providence claims my workplace. Just updating so people know I'm indeed not dead, although it's likely the holidays will be the death of me.

Now off to work. Glee.

Been pretty preoccupied

Thu, 08 Nov 2007 16:50:38 GMT

Copied from another journal.

The past couple weeks have been filled mostly with writing my contest entry for the end of December. So far this has been proving a challenge in many unforeseen ways, such as the flash drive crash of last week and the fact that the sucker is proving a lot longer than I thought it was going to be.

Ten thousand words, I told myself before I started. That's it, that's all you're going to limit yourself to. You have too many things to do with work, other writing and the holidays. Well, ladies and gentlemen, the cliche 'the best plans of mice and men so often go astray,' was made for occasions like this. Part one alone is roughly twenty-five thousand words now and climbing. Thankfully, today is hopefully going to be the day where I put that one to bed and get started on part two. When I have days off I try for nine thousand words in a sitting. But since this is going to have a projected four parts, I'm going to need to start taking nights after I get home from work to get this done, too.

As far as editing goes, I won't have much time for it, so chances are it's going to be roughly done when I do manage to finish. I think as long as I get the story done and people get the main gist of it, I'll be happy.

This does mean I'll be absent from AIM for a bit as well as other 'live' forms of communication. I will still be around to check e-mail and other such things, so if you need something or would like to say hello, drop me a note on here, or an e-mail if you know the address. =P

And goody, work is going to be more and more a pain in the neck until the holidays are over. I'm getting to loathe the holidays as a whole because of that place. Ugh.

I've been thinking of getting my parents a used laptop so they can do their own typing/web-surfing without using my stuff or asking me. When we upgraded to Verizon we got a wireless modem that the installer guy told us could access the internet from anywhere in the house providing the computer we were using had the wireless ability. Now that I'm looking at some of these things, I see some have 'wireless capability' and some have Wi-Fi. I'm not sure if there's a difference or even if the wireless modem I have can support those things if I buy the laptop, or if I need to go through Verizon and get another card or something specifically so I can connect to their service. Once I have that ironed out, I'll see what I can do as far as making a purchase.

Halloween pictures have arrived and they're, well. The effect is missed when you don't see it in person. At best they need resizing and some shrinking down. I only have a few of them and they're mostly goofy. I didn't get time to pose and my friend got bored after taking like, three. They won't be going up here, so e-mails are necessary if you're that morbidly curious.

Man, I hope I finish this story in time... *Bites fingernails*

Curse technology

Fri, 02 Nov 2007 01:46:31 GMT

Lots of profanity under cut.

I was working on my contest entry and like an idiot, only saved it to my flash drive rather than my hard drive. The thing crashed or something and screwed up the last save I attempted. I tried to restart Word after it auto-saved the file, but now it's not coming up as in the flash drive at all when I know for a fucking fact I saved it on the flash drive. It was there this afternoon. I tried to open it through Word, but it says it can't find the file. Right before it gave me the error message somewhere along the lines of, 'Save failed. Word will autosave the document. Hitting yes now may make it incompatible with other programs and blah blah blah...' I noticed that it had changed itself into a file name that started with 'WP'-something or other. My assumption right now is that the motherfucker presumes itself deleted and is hidden somewhere with the prefix for a deleted file like the piece of shit that it is. My question would be how I find it so I can properly save it, since it's just gone from the flash drive and when I go to access the file under its old name it says it's not available. How the fuck can that be?

If worst comes to worst, I delete the half finished file from my C drive (since once something like this happens to me, it ruins it for me and I can't go back and make it how it was anyway) and quit the contest the writing was supposed to be for. If, however, anyone has any suggestions outside of the obvious, I'd be willing to hear it/try anything.

The reason I'm so fucking pissed off is because this is 9,000 some words down the shitter if I can't get it back. 9-motherfucking-000.

Now if you'll all excuse me, I'll be busily damning my flash drive to the depths of bloody, pus-spewing, demon infested, God-forgotten hell and trying to keep my sanity.

Edit: After using a freeware program called Piriform Recuva on the drive, it can pull up the temp files as well as the actual file itself, but once I recover it, it's apparently blank and I have no idea how to open the temp files since there's no apparent program I can use to view them. Suppose I'm pretty fucked as far as this contest goes...

Halloween pictures

Thu, 01 Nov 2007 02:42:42 GMT

...Will be forthcoming as soon as I get the files from a friend's camera. Might be of poor quality, but please comment here if you'd like to see.

Views and whatnot

Mon, 22 Oct 2007 17:03:52 GMT

A message board I go to asked how I view life. Ha. Hahaha. But no, srsly.

I view life in a more or less cynical way. I won't lie and make it out to be that I'm a happy ray of sunshine who skips along, blissfully unaware. The world, and therefore life, is what you make of it, true, but it's also heavily influenced by other people along the way. I have things I'm thankful for, people that I love. Those are positive things that I wouldn't trade for anything. But then there's always the bad side of things too to take into consideration. I can't speak for someone else, but I'm the sort that tries to take in every experience as a whole, trying to balance both positive and negative things before deciding if the overall experience was positive and beneficial or not.

Some of this could be that I don't have a lot of people I feel I can safely rely on--people have proven themselves too selfish time and time again for me to be that trusting. Outside of my own family, I have a handful of people I like and trust. I'm friendly to a lot of people, but they're not going to become my best friends overnight. Yes, I know that comes across as bitter and somewhat of a downer--but as I said, I'm not going to sit there and make it into something sugary in order to be accommodating.

There's a difference between ignorance and stupidity. Ignorance is not knowing something and being open to being shown another way. Stupidity is when someone is shown that way (or ways), time and time again, and chooses to ignore it, making the same mistakes that hurt themselves and others every time. Maybe my working in retail has something to do with it, but really, I think if people as a whole were a little more self aware--and especially more aware of others--we wouldn't have a lot of the problems we face as a world nowadays. Someday, if I can, I'd like to show people it's not all about them and whatever specific thing they value to the detriment of what other people value.

I've learned to work for everything I have, because my family's not exactly rich. I've also learned that once you have someone or something you value, hold onto it with everything you have, because there's always going to be someone or something that's going to try and make that difficult for/take it away from you. If you give up on something/someone you love because the road's gotten difficult, then you are stupid, no two ways.

More story stuff

Fri, 19 Oct 2007 16:15:50 GMT

Yesterday was relaxing enough to the point where I could sit down and write, which is something that hasn't been happening regularly for a couple of weeks thanks to various factors. First it was my friend's birthday drawing which took up lots of time, and then there was general apathy or angst concerning the story I was set to work on. Characterization, I love. There's nothing better in the world to me as capturing an imitation of a person so vividly that they bring their parts of the story home to an audience. Plotting and figuring out the small details, however, is something I wish I could sometimes do without. There are the larger ideas ('Bobby gets eaten by a shark') and ('Bobby's girlfriend April finds his man-parts in her shark salad later that day.') Now, how to get from point A to point B when there are small gaps in between the main points of action? For me that's always been the sticking point. Or rather, 'the rub' as Hamlet might have called it. The amount of notes for the smaller details to some stories I have alone can make a novel.

I got about maybe halfway through the first part of my contest entry before I hit a stopping point to sit and plan more things out. At this point in the venture, I'd call it about 20% done. Not quite a quarter since I have the rest to work out on that section, but enough so most readers can pick up on the gist of things. I'm using some cliches here, which normally would bother the hell out of me but for the fact that the contest itself was set up to be somewhat cliche in the first place. I'm just rolling with the punches on this one, not making too much of an effort to be overly original or anything. Hopefully it'll still be a good read in spite of that.

Halloween plans are underway. A friend and I have been discussing what days I can ~~weasel my way out of~~ ask off from work, and the make-up has been purchased. Black lipstick and nail polish, fake blood, and some white make-up for the face. I'm going in to work today to buy some hair gel to keep my hair back out of my face. I'm going for that 'fresh out of the shower and recently combed my hair back' look. I'm not sure what I'm shooting for in terms of overall effect. Maybe some vampire-ish thing. 'I vant to suck your blood.' Ha. My friend, who is a painter, said she'd like to do another model shoot, wherein all her friends/anyone within camera range is posed for photos she uses as references when she draws and paints. I never come out too well in photos, but in the off chance that I do, some may be posted around a few places if I should feel like it. That last phrase being the key operative one.

Must also study math during the week and make sure I have the addition and reduction of fractions and mixed numbers down pat. My grandmother should be calling again soon to get together again and I hate rehashing past lessons.

I'm vacillating between continuing the story tonight when I get home from work and passing out as soon as I'm dressed for bed. If my mind can shut down, that is, which, for various reasons, it's been having trouble doing over the past few days. These have translated into dreams and thoughts that are driving me mad and not all in a positive sense. If only I could be like some people and not have any pressing worries at all...

Story stuff and other things

Mon, 15 Oct 2007 15:11:37 GMT

So I've figured out most of what I'd like to happen in the story I'm entering in that contest I was talking about earlier. I believe I've wracked up about three pages of detailed notes on basic plot happenings, but as with everything I write, it'll probably get away from me and more'll need to be added. I have slightly over two months to complete this. It sounds a simple enough task, but with the holidays coming and other things hanging over my head, it might not be as clear-cut as all of that. I'm limiting myself to about 10,000 words, maybe 15,000 if things get a mind of their own and beg for expansion, but I'm not allowing this to become another epic since I have a couple of those sitting and waiting for me already. I can post a link here for people to follow once it's done if people would like to read it. Wish me luck with it though, I'll be needing it.

Work says they're looking for someone to fill my spot in the seafood department, but I have a feeling most people they ask'll say no. The meat department had someone else quit the other day and their manager'll probably be quitting soon too, so that's more for everyone else to do to make ends meet. Not a good situation.

My grandmother came over the other day and began to help me study for the math placement test I'll hopefully be taking sometime before December. Registration for my classes is in the beginning of December for the winter courses. If I'm not registered by then (although I hope to be), I'll at least have that damn test out of the way so when I go to register I won't have to make a trek to the school and request to see a counselor because they 'flagged' my account, meaning I can't do anything without the school's approval. Registration included. Urgh.

Also I got some drawing/coloring done for a friend's birthday gift. While late for her birthday, I did get it finished after a few weeks of killing my hands and colored pencils. Now I need to invest in a good electrical sharpener. Used to have one, but the motor eventually crapped out, and the manual one downstairs works well, but I'd have to schlep a whole set of pencils down there to get to it. Guess I have to see what good ol' Staples offers.

And, thankfully, I have off tomorrow. It's been less than a week since my last day off and for some reason it feels like an eternity. Will probably be spending the day doing laundry and making sure my room is clean for being painted, but other than that, probably not much. Boring life has I. XD

Edit: And because I'm a loser in the meme-respect (and others too, but we won't get into that. I know some of you are currently smirking, shut up):

Your Score: Sylar

You scored 33 Idealism, 58 Nonconformity, 45 Nerdiness

How can you stop what's coming... when you don't know anything about power?
Congratulation, you're Sylar, the artist formerly known as Gabriel Gray! You are a seriously nerdy person with an enormous desire to be different, and to be recognized for it. As long as you don't go eating brains, this doesn't have to be a bad thing at all. You're ambitious, intelligent, tenacious, and unique.

Your best quality: Panache
Your worst quality: An obsessive desire for recognition and power

Link: The Heroes Personality Test written by freedomdegrees on OkCupid Free Online Dating, home of the The Dating Persona Test

So yeah

Wed, 10 Oct 2007 15:35:41 GMT

It's my birthday today. Last night went out with some friends to eat and wanted to crawl under the table and expire when the waitstaff brought out chocolate cake (with a lit candle no less) and sang 'happy birthday' in Italian because one of my friends just had to tell them the occasion. Stayed out a little longer, got home late, and slept in. Oh, and no work today to sweeten the deal, so I'm out doing what I want when I want. :)

Contest

Mon, 01 Oct 2007 16:51:16 GMT

Last night (or I should say, early this morning) the results of a contest I entered over the summer came in. Lots of entries, lots of competition. Then there came the category I entered: general fanfic. Yes, I do still write fanfic once in awhile although the majority of what I'm focusing on is original stuff. Sometimes it's nice to have a break. Since no one else entered fanfic (there were a few fanarts though) I got second place by default. Now, I'm not unhappy with the fact that I got money out of the deal, $15 to spend on Amazon or wherever when I get it is going to be really nice, but the lack of competition kind of bugged me. That's why, once the 5-day a week schedule kicks in, I've found another contest to enter and I'm going for it, consequences be damned. I want some competition and if I make it, cool, if I don't, there'll be other opportunities.

['Blanket you' in effect for below.]

I guess I finally got tired of second guessing myself. I have plenty of other people to do that for me. I got tired of hearing "you're too timid," or "you deserve to be put down/used/whatever because you're shy." Because I'm shy doesn't mean you can treat me like dirt. Because I might not speak up on something doesn't mean I don't have feelings regarding the issue. I used to try to be nice about people being inconsiderate or just rude on purpose, but those days have ended. I've finally decided it's time to reach out for what I want no matter what it takes to get it. I've had people doubt me, wash their hands of me because I'm not what they want when they think I should be or be doing something. My stand is this: If you want me to be something other than what I am, why associate with me? You obviously don't like me for who I am, otherwise you wouldn't feel the need to 'improve' me. I've had more than one person try this garbage and to them I say: deal with me for who I am. Or don't deal with me. Your choice. Think before you talk, and especially think before you act. I don't have the patience for people anymore.

That was a rant I've been meaning to air for awhile now. There's nothing wrong with a person who's shy. They're not defective. I don't know why people tend to see them that way. It's made me quite bitter, and the closer someone wants to get, the more I don't trust them. I don't like being that way, but most people who have burnt their hands on the proverbial stove don't go reaching again in a hurry.

Off to work in awhile, wherein the head boss will hand me his screwed up, idealistic schedule that has me coming in when I can't be there and closing about an hour to an hour and a half too late because he thinks it'll drum up more business. What he doesn't know is, we charge too much because corporate says so, so we're not getting business after 6 PM anymore. It's always been that way. End of story. Talking to him does no good, since he talks over people and will only really listen when *his* bosses in HR come down to the store to tell him his asinine behavior isn't going to fly. I've been a bundle of nerves mostly because of this job for too long and with my department manager being replaced, it's only going to be worse. After the holidays, even if I get into a car accident to get there, I'm looking for another job. Enough's enough of the BS.