It's been too long!

A significant amount has happened since I last wrote.  Suffice it (for now) to say that things are changing in my life and just when I think I know what's going to happen, something else does entirely.  But all I can do is "keep trucking".

To the future, I'm looking for an apartment and (possibly) a roommate.  And of course, a job.  I budgeted out what I would need.  If I worked 40 hours a week at at least minimum wage, I'd make enough after groceries and such to afford rent up to 400-500.  600 if I don't ever want to have any spending money, which of course, isn't the case.

But before all that, there's still a month left in this semester.  And a lot to get done at that.  And all I can do is take it one thing at a time.

Insomnia The Third

Chemically Induced insomnia.  The culprit?  A delicious, caffeine infused smoothie from Smoothie King. Watching How I Met Your Mother seems to be doing the trick.  Not that it puts me to sleep...It doesn't...it's an amazing show.  But watching the screen is making my eyes tired.  I know...not an incredibly ponderous blog post but I just wanted to make an update.

Thanks.

Friday, 1:59pm...The next day.

So to be fair, that was a fairly short post and rather an making another one, I thought I'd just edit the one I already created.  Besides it's really the same story.

The smoothie is still kicking.  I decided that though I could keep watching TV shows, I did need to sleep eventually so I finally went to bed around quarter to five and then woke up five hours later not feeling very rested.  I would have slept longer but I had work in a half hour, a shift which I had been late to once and too early to twice and I didn't want to mess it up again.  I was feeling groggy but when I got to work the caffeine that was still in my system picked up where it left off when I went to sleep.  I still feel groggy but I'm tired too.  It's similar to when you're really tired and you start getting punchy from a second wind?  It's sort of like that except I don't feel like I have that second wind.  I feel really sleepy but I'm acting like I'm energetic.  Alright so that sound the same, but I promise you it's different.

The good thing that I got from all of this is that I know what I can get when I'm going to need to stay up for long hours.  See, I consumed that smoothie between the hours of 3 and 5 (it was a medium).  And instead of feeling the effects from the caffeine and the sugar with in the following hour or so, it was as though the caffeine was slowly released into my blood stream continuously even now, nearly 22 hours later.

This smoothie has great power, to be used only in extreme circumstances. Because, in the words of Uncle Ben Parker with great power comes great responsibility.

Your's In Writing

Starting something I can't fini...

I think part of the problem with writing for me is I'm afraid of starting something I can't finish.  I'll get going on something, lit by some unseen fire, and then the fire dies out before I'm anywhere near the end of the story.  Maybe I should just write "To be continued" at the end of whatever it is was writing once the fuel for the fire runs out.  I'd get some doozy cliffhangers out it, let me tell you.

Maybe this is the case in life too - starting something I can't finish.  I could never tell a girl how I felt.  Maybe it was because I knew what to say, but I didn't know what to say after that.

"Hey, I like you..."

I know some people think that that's all you really need to say but there's so much more to it than that.  There's the response.  What will it be?  Hey, I like you to?  No, sorry.  I don't see you that way."  The worst is some variation of, "I value our friendship too much."  That's not really an appropriate response.  You value our friendship too much for me to like you?  Or for you to like me?  No.  It's one thing if the person saying it really means it.  I don't have a problem with that.  But to say it, make me think you mean it, and then not even make an attempt to be friends with me afterwards......come on now.

After the response, there's the awkward time figuring out what to do next.  I don't care if it's mutual interest or not.  You know it's awkward either way.  "So, should we date then?"  "So, can we still be friends?"  So, what should we do now?"  Capital AWKWARD.

Sorry.  Tangent.  Back to writing.

So anyways, I have two books with good starts, but that's all they are: starts.  And one of them all the credit and half the writing goes to a friend for that particular story even getting started.  I have all these ideas, but I never have any full ideas, only parts.  Or I'll have a great idea or maybe a conversation will play out in my head, and by the time a get somewhere where I can write it down, only half of it is left.  And only half of that gets written down.

I'm sure this is something every writer goes through at some point.  And I do have plenty that is finished.  But they're all assignments that I've done in the past.  Nothing that I've started on my own has ever gotten completion.  Even now, I'm having trouble finding an end for this rant of mine.  I guess this will do.

Two Zero One Two

My resolution last year and, incidentally, my default resolution when I can't think of any, was to not make any resolutions.  This year, I actually made one.  I resolved to start the morning out by doing pushups.  The wood floor in my room at home isn't too pushup friendly so I decided to wait on starting my resolution until a got back to school.  Then I didn't really feel like it when I got here so I told my self I'd start the first day of school.  And I did.  First day went well.  Ten pushups.  And now, six days later, I haven't done a single one.  Does that mean I should give up?  Toss the resolution in the circular file cabinet?  No!  I will keep trying at it.

All Inspiration & No Planning

Last night my parents and I went to the new Sherlock Holmes movie.  I don’t know why the critics gave it such a bad review.  It was quite excellent.  My parents had a couple of problems with it and I agreed with one of them but they were small instances and overall they thought it was very good as well.

The movie inspired me to work on a Sherlock Holmes story I began writing a while back.  I haven’t started yet but I’d like to.  It’s a lot of fun writing in that Victorian/Conan Doyle style.  It’s something that’s already been established that you don’t have to invent.  That’s probably one of the reasons so many people write fan-fiction, besides that fact that they are a fan of a certain show.  I think it’s easier writing for an established character(s) than it is to make up a new character on your own.

I know in writing classes and books about writing, you are encouraged to do character profiles before you dive into writing a book or a story.  Create your character before you write a story about him or her.  But you still don’t necessarily know every little nuance and quirk from that profile that you’ve created and you still have to make some things up as you go.

But even with previously created characters, you still have to come up with a story line.  And I’m aware that part of writing (and likewise part of the creative process) is imagination and invention.  It’s just that I have a tendency to begin writing something and just fly by the seat of my pants…every time.  I rarely plan things out and I know some people are good at this and probably do this all the time.  I just do it because I can’t help myself. A small spark of inspiration and then I run with it.  And I run and run and before I know it I’m lost in the woods and have no idea how to find my way out.  All I can do is either stay there or move forward a few feet at a time.  Either way, it gets slow real fast.

Maybe I ran too far with that analogy like I do with some of my story ideas…

Belated Poetry

I can't believe I never ended up posting these after I was done.  Here are the poems that I wrote for EN 215 in September of 2010.  The first two use the "every other line" rhyming convention.  The third is of the more experimental variety.  It kind of has a beatnik feel to it.  Anyways, without further adieu...MY POEMS! 

Past

Sitting all alone on this cool September eve,

Thinking oh so fondly of my past.

Going back in time to days of Ol’ when plans were new,

And the innocence of youth was still in tact;

When dreams were still a brewing waiting idly in their pots

For days to come when plans would hatch or maybe they would not.

Though all that didn’t matter way back then when we were young

We only cared for play, for the sticking out of tongues

But oh how I know better now as sad as that may be

The truth has settled in my brain at last.

Sitting here all by myself this cool September eve,

Thinking oh so fondly of my past.

The Music All Around

Hear the music all around

Like wind beneath your feet.

It whistles and toots and hums and pounds,

A symphony complete.

The Clarinets and Oboes

Are the whistlers of the group.

They tend to warm the soul

As do the Piccolos and Flutes.

Violins are in there also

Playing out their role

Bows gliding up and down their strings

Striking sweet melodic chords.

The Trumpets, Saxes and Trombones

All join to do their part,

Playing out the harmony

Which leads us to the heart.

Percussion is the heartbeat

That keeps the tune alive

The heartbeat of the sound

Of things and people going by

It’s in the steps and stomps from feet

Of people walking past

Or in the flutter of a flag

Up high upon its mast.

Hear the music all around

It’s everywhere you go

All you have to do is listen,

To the heartbeat of your soul.

Time Fleeting In Plenty

The time is ticking by

Seconds tick, tick, tock.

Minutes follow after,

Not as often but still many

Hours seem to be the longest.

After hours it’s still longer yet, except it goes by faster

Days pass as though only hours have taken place

Weeks are the more devious of characters

They seem long but then they’re gone.

Months are similar in nature

Only slightly more conniving

And then years come, the worst of all,

So many months and weeks and days

All those things wrapped into one

Each going by at their own rate

But then a year has gone by

Until years have passed

Until there is no more time. 

Journaling

It seems journaling has paid off.  About a month ago, I had enough time to put my pencil to paper for recreational purposes.  I'd had a busy schedule, words that I'm still repeating and fear I may continue for the rest of my life.  At any rate, I had a moment to write but didn't have access to the internet so I wrote in my notebook:

10/13/11

I've been cajoled into attending a high school volleyball game at Marquette by my girlfriend who is volunteering there with Norther's club team.  Let it be known that I've only ever attended one other volleyball game (no longer true).  Sporting events are noisy things but specially a girls volleyball game in high school.  While the two teams are playing, the next game's teams are sitting on the sidelines in a cheering competition with each other that, in addition to the fans chatter, the buzzer, and the ref's whistle, is a cacophony of noise.


Watching this game, or half watching as I am simultaneously writing this makes me wish I had gone to games at my own high school.  I would hear about them but never attend.  And the sporting events that I did attend outside of being in band, I spent most of talking to my friends.  Still, I wish I would have experienced it...if for no other reason to say that I had done it.  That I had experienced high school.  That I lived.

It's amazing how much shorter that looks after I've typed it up.