Kaboom Kaboom!!!!

Oh I hate corporations. They suck the life out of everything fun in the world. They lie. They cheat. They steal. One in particular has raised my ire and is now on my hit list. To these people everything that comes out of Japan is their property. First they buy it and then they censure it (think of someone passing off the tv edit of your favorite movie as the original), brutalizing the ingenious works of imagination that so many people love to watch. Stupid Funamation, I was watching Darker than Black and now I have no idea how I can finish the series (in Japanese with subs).

Ok rant over. It's Sunday and finally my work week has ended. From now until 2pm Tuesday I am free. My plans are many and most will remain just that, plans. Tonight is an off night for everything except reading. I'm hoping to finish Reaper's Gale. With that epic finished, probably on a cliff-hanger as usual, I can start...something. Not sure yet what but it'll come to me. Maybe I'll watch some more Noien. What else is there to do on a lazy Sunday afternoon?

Pick Me Pick Me

Hmmm, I have a quandry. To others it many seem small, perhaps even petty but to me it is HUGE. I'm in a club. It's a fun club, one I like very much. It's kind of hard for me to find people I can talk to with no bad episodes of paralyzing fear stabbing me in the head. Yay for the club. But the day when we meet has changed to a day I work. So do I try to change my schedule, perhaps even put to use my 'innocent eyes' in order to switch days or do I just suck it up and try to find another club. Oh yeah, 'innocent eyes' have already come out and are locked and loaded. (That cat from Shrek's got nothing on me.)

It is a beautiful day. Painters would look at today and be stunned by it's beauty, so much so that they would be unable to do it even a fraction of justice. It is a blanket outside stare at the clouds until twilight kind of day. I sit in my tin box and look out at it, pace through it and hope that I can at least enjoy the morning me and Jup had outside while the brownies were baking.

Did you ever want to scream and cry at the unjustice of something? The shout until you were hoarse that you were innocent? I kind of want to do that now, just to see what the people in the parking lot would do. A social experiment if you will. Ugh, I must have been Attila the Hun in another life to be stuck in a metal box at the end of a parking lot on a day such as this. So there's only one thing left to do. Round up my horde and take over the world! Ye Hah! (Hmm I now have the strangest image of Attila in a ten gallon hat with spurs and a lasso.)

Bad Habits Die Hard

I don't know why but I am far more active and awake at night. This is illogical considering how much I like sleep. I always feel clearer when the sun's down. I want to walk, drive, play with the dog (who is by then usually fast asleep and disgruntled about being woken up cause I had the brain function to find the ball he hid). It is right now 1201am and I want to do something...anything that doesn't involve being in my house. It drives me crazy. Sometimes (to the utter horror of my co-workers) I do take Jup for late night/early morning forays. Not often, usually we're back in the house by 1030-1130. But the night is usually too perfect and beautiful to waste.

One of my favorite memories of my place since I've moved in was when Brother was living here. He would many nights light up the fire place in the back yard and stay out there till bedtime. Once when it was still burning strong I collected a blanket, two flashlights and my book and stayed out there reading under the trees until it was just a glowing smoldering pile of coals. Never have I ever had such a serene time.

Tonight, however, I shall resist the temptation of the beauty outside my door. Instead I will stay in and do laundry. Between that and reading I'll have something to do to fill my time. WoW doesn't hold my attention tonight. Writing seems too involved. I must save my energy for tomorrow.

What momentous occasion could make me not want to work on my stories? Those wonderful dark holes that light up my life...

Training at work. Oh joy. This time I can't even play with real fire. Now we get fake fire. Screw it. I see flames while on duty a call to the WFD and my job is done. Take away my fun and see how productive I am. (Ok, rant over)

A fly or a bus?

Oh the agony. I have inspiration. Heck I've been hording it for days like a crack head. Now my poor neglected NaNoWriMo has been calling to me, (actually it was closer to screaming). Pivitol scenes are finally being made clear and now all I need to do is write them down. Enter the short story. Yes for about two weeks these were all I wrote. It was fun, new and strange seeing as how I don't have a great deal of experience or talent with the form. They still need to be finished as well. And...well...I promised a friend he could read one, three weeks ago. I've already read his poem and now it's time for me to pony up. And I am this close to pulling a vanishing act.

Logically I should finish a story (at this point I just want something semi coherent that has a beginning, middle and end) and then plug away at my NaNoWriMo to my hearts content. I should probably give it a name too cause come November I'll have another NaNoWriMo and that would get confusing. Anyways, I don't want to be logical.

I want to clean my house...a great sentiment surely but the damn thing's already clean.

Today is Father's Day. Woot! Happy Dad's Day to all (especially mine). So the party was at my house and well, it was a mess. A big one. By mess I mean disorganized, mostly my books. Piles of books everywhere. I considered having the house rebuilt before they got there big. Think of the Windex commercial where the guy wakes up from the sunlight, thinking it's not his house and runs into the door, yeah that's where I am. I'm stepping around imaginary piles of books. Woot for muscle memory!

The party was great fun. Little Brother is by far one of the funniest people I know and he has that special talent that Dad and Sister have. Quick Wit. It's great to watch them bounce off each other. He gave me a great line to use when I get in trouble with my boss. (I get paid from the neck down, though knowing my boss his thoughts will stray somewhere south of stripper/hooker). When we are all together we spend at least 70% of the time laughing and tonight was no exception. Laughter, egg rolls, cake, it was a great Sunday.

And my mind explodes

As a reader I find myself involved in the same basic plots over and over again. I accept this and find beauty in the words, the images and the emotions they invoke. Reading is for me a type of meditation...most of the time. Then there are rockets that seem to come out of left field. Shadow of the Wind, Across the Nightingale Floor, The Lovely Bones, The Silmarilion, My Sister's Keeper, Kushiel's Dart, Beowulf, Lamb. They made me laugh, cry and think far beyond what I wanted for dinner.

Another book has joined their ranks. The Malazan Book of the Fallen. Comprised of ten separate books (7 of which are now in print) it is by far the most mind blowing epic I have ever encountered. There are characters that have made me bawl tears, others that I don't trust, some that I even would like to kill personally and a few who I continuously cheer for no matter what they do.

Steven Erikson is a genius. I love these things, they're like crack to me. So why, in all the holy heavens can I not finish the newest one? I have excuses, alot of them. I can even come up with a couple of good lies too. But the truth shall be revealed.



I got epics.



Oh Yeah :)

My world of words is slowly morphing into a world of pixels. Perhaps I am just catching up to the 21st century. Maybe I can finally, definitely declare myself to be an American otaku. Is it possible that by watching too many videos on my laptop that I've permanently hurt my brain so badly that is can no longer comprehend intricate plot details unless they are laid out in visual form? Meh, probably not.

I think I've just hit a whole new level of laziness. Ask Jup, he'll tell you. Last night was the first time in something like 8 days he got a real walk. Poor thing was panting out of breath before we even turned around to go home. But he loved it and so did I.

There is a distinctly serene quality to my neighborhood at night. The trees are merely deep shadows, so dark that they stand out against the sky. In the city I can't see all the stars but the ones that are there sparkle enough that the occasional street lamp cannot dampen them. It's so quiet at night, even the peat bog seems to be asleep. Of course this all hinges on me staying awake long enough to get us out there. But damn is it beautiful.

All that I can be

I have lately been giving my situation a great deal of thought. What situation is this you may ask? My priorities. I have, in RL (to use a gamer term) an inexplicable fear of failure. This makes me a perfectionist. My stories are never done because they are never good enough. When I was younger and able to play ice hockey this led me to the heights that I climbed and made me push myself until I was pretty damn good.

I live, every day, in Real Life and I would not have it any other way. I work, I write, I try to learn how to cook better, (my new experiment is white chocolate/peanut butter brownies...the guys at work can't wait) and I learn new things. Japanese is coming along nicely. I can already pick up words and phrases from the shows I watch. But I still hate to fail.

There is another life. One in which I am free of this fear. World of Warcraft. To those who scoff at it's obvious D&D origins I say well, yeah. To those who berate it as a waste of time I say turn off that stupid television. It is a magnificent place. There I am a hunter named Kelsomar. I have no fear there. On my own with my pets Taberth, Komodo and Katen I travel continents in search of adventure, new sights, and new foes. Many days I join up with my favorite couple Ailis and Nyloc, a druid and a paladin of great renown. In a great moment of pride and geekness I will publicly state that I can and have topped the damage meters (a pretty tough thing for a non common specced hunter to do).

In this life I have goals as well. Slowly but surely a small middle aged dwarf is making her way through the ranks of the priesthood. One day she will be a feared shadow keeper. Two young shamans wait in the wings, one who will call upon the powers of the earth and nature, who will control with great skill the power of lightning itself. The other will be a healer, a custodian of the lives of her companions and who will be happy to do so. And far off in the distance, rarely played but never forgotten is a warrior, a gnome who will one day be a champion.

What caused all this introspection and self proclamation? Well, I lost power for a day and was irked by my refrigerator that didn't turn back on. Grrrrr. I had to kick it. I threatened to dump it and called the lame ass company from whence it came. Grrrr. All that lovely ice cream gone, ruined. Ask the guys at work. I love my ice cream. ;)

Moving to Greenland

Yes! No more heat! No more bugs! No more creepy snakes skulking around my back yard! No, wait, that's in Ireland. Meh, close enough.

Sadly, this is but a dream. A dream I comfort myself with as the sun tries to kill me. 95 degrees, that is not right in any realm or sphere of life. Maybe in some parts of the world but not here. (I am angry with the heat for many reasons, mostly for the fact it gave my dog heat stroke).

But with the heat comes the classic American sound of the ice cream truck. As a child one of those popping around was a rare thing due to the stoners who lived up the street declaring war on the battered old truck and assaulting it and the driver with rocks and who knows what else. Justifiably he didn't come around much. But now there is one who's route takes them right past my house. I listen, I watch it drive by and usually I'm eating ice cream I bought on sale at the market while doing so. Maybe I'm just getting back at the coward from my youth who would never stop to take my money even after I ran to him.

With the house (excluding the kitchen) at a less than perfect 81 degrees (apparently I don't live in a house I live in an oven that some foodie giant just turned on to make super fois gras) I am already planning my escape as tomorrow could reach as high as 96 not counting the heat index. I feel bad about it but I am leaving my ducklings to the mercy of the heat with only one woefully small AC to protect them. But where to go? I'm tempted to settle down at my favorite cannolli shop but I doubt I'd leave the same pants size I arrive with. Borders is always a good choice but one that will definately hit my bank account. The library is nice but it's hard to write there and I am definately hoping for some inspiration tomorrow. My NaNoWriMo story is calling my name loudly. And if I stay here I'm going to want to make bread.

OK, yes it's random, but it's true. For the past day I have wanted to make bread with a passion that I usually reserve for my books and sleeping. And this isn't any bread, this is artisan bread. The really good wheat oaty breads that I love and rarely buy. I want to mix and experiment with all that bready goodness. There's just one problem...it's too hot to bake anything. I only made tacos for dinner because the stove is right next to the AC. Otherwise it would have been ice cream. (Yes I am that much of a baby)

So we return to my dream and fantasies of Greenland. In my world it is a place of mythic temperatures and glorious sunsets all without the moment being ruined by passing out from heat stroke.

All in a name

It occurs to me that the name of this blog may seem kind of random. It isn't. Inspiration is something that as a writer gets me high. When it shows up I couldn't have a better day. Today was one of those days. As for plums, they are my favorite fruit and a companion of sorts during the summer. On nice days when the humidity isn't high enough to kill me, I will go to the fruit market, get a few plums and maybe a nectarine or apple and head to my bench. I have laid claim to this bench that over looks the lake and will sit there reading, writing, napping and eating. This is my zen time and one that I miss greatly during the winter months. Inspiration and plums are two very small but important parts of my life that seem to sum me up in one phrase. My friends know that me, my bench, and ripe fruit are sure to be found at the park on a warm, (or even chilly) day. On those other days I guess I can be found here.

Forest Gump doesn't like me............

Today is Monday. That means I have to do all the work I say I'll do on the weekend then just never get to. I cook, I clean, I watch the history of John Dillinger. But there is one chore from which I am banned. One chore that I watch every week with a sad, longing smile on my face. Yes people, I wish I could mow my lawn.

Really, I 'm not crazy. Promise. I can bribe you :)

We have a circa 1960's riding lawn mower, stick shift and grouchy motor included. (No cup holder though). Now I am probably one of the more accident prone people on the planet and with my long track record of ER visits the family has decided that I am to stay away from the Gumpmobile at all times unless supervised.

It looks fun! I want to do it and make pictures in the grass. Donuts! Diamonds! Strange safari animals! Oh well, at least someone gets to have fun.