best remembrance day blog post....


http://www.mentalfloss.com/blogs/archives/40324


thanks dave and emma

Helmet and rifle, pack and overcoat
Marched through a forest. Somewhere up ahead
Guns thudded. Like the circle of a throat
The night on every side was turning red.

They halted and they dug. They sank like moles
Into the clammy earth between the trees.
And soon the sentries, standing in their holes,
Felt the first snow. Their feet began to freeze.

At dawn the first shell landed with a crack.
Then shells and bullets swept the icy woods.
This lasted many days. The snow was black.
The corpses stiffened in their scarlet hoods.

Most clearly of that battle I remember
The tiredness in eyes, how hands looked thin
Around a cigarette, and the bright ember
Would pulse with all the life there was within.

--Louis Simpson

Current Mood: contemplative

( I'm not obsessed. I'm...focused. Yeah, that's it. )

Current Mood: geeky

Just a few good ways to say "Thank you" on Veterans Day:

Current Mood: contemplative

Remember that episode of The Cosby Show in which the Huxtables visited Stevie Wonder in his recording studio, and he asked Theo what he was most likely to say at a party, and Theo replied, "Jammin' on the One!", and without even bothering to ask Theo what that even meant or why anyone on the planet would ever say something like that, Stevie went and made a stuttering rap song out of it on his synthesizer?

Well, there's a monthly improv jam named after it.

It's one of Toronto's foremost open improv jams, and it's back this Friday, November 13. This week's show will feature a performance by comedy troupe We're From Here, and some comic spoken word. This will be followed by an improv session in which anybody in the audience can take part.

That's at 14 Elm Street (near Dundas/Yonge), third floor (you have to ring a silly doorbell to get in), doors 7:30 p.m., no cover.

One of the things I do always, and especially when I get depressed, is to ponder my blessings. I believe that no matter how dire things get, there are blessings, and it is my job to seek them out.

Fortune smiles upon me in my middle age. I often jest about my spine of steel, but my real backbone takes the shape of these three young women, my beautiful trinity of evil:

Now with bonus Crap We Rented from Netflix and Red Box!

The Box started out great - creepy setting (the 70s), creepy dude (Frank Langella is great at creepy - after all, he went out with Whoopi Goldberg), creepy prop (even though it's just a red button on a wooden box, it's bound to have people thinking about whether they'd push it or not - a good way to pull folks into the story). Unfortunately, about 40-45 minutes in, it takes off in several random directions. At first you might think that means that the ending is bound to reveal that What's Going On is huge and complicated in its scope. But you'd be wrong. Or hell, you might be right, but you'll never know, because the movie never lets you in on the big secret. It's as if it's JUST SO COOL that the filmmakers decided they weren't going to share after all. Also, the music was extremely distracting, booming loud and dramatic over otherwise quiet scenes of...people walking.

As if that wasn't bad enough, we watched The Taking of Pelham 123 when we got home. For all the similarity it bears to the original, they could have just given it another name. Not that that would have made it a better movie. Denzel Washington and John Travolta appeared to be acting in two completely different films. I use the word "acting" loosely when it comes to Travolta's portrayal of villains in general, because mostly it involves crunching up his chin and laughing inappropriately.

Didn't make it all the way through Drag Me to Hell. I love Sam Raimi. He's done some genius work - even when it was slathered in cheese. But this thing is a real piece of shit.

We also got another couple episodes of True Blood, which hasn't improved any. It's still like bad porn without the fine acting. Rutina Wesley continues to have the worst southern accent I have ever heard, and as a character, Tara is so obnoxious that I'm tempted to fast forward through any scene that involves her. However, Alexander Skarsgard can come bite me anytime. (*flails at cinnabari* - have you heard of this thing?)

Current Mood: disappointed

I am in day 2 of a 5-day training course.

I have come to the conclusion that my brain is not well-designed for focusing on a single subject for 8 hours in a row. I can feel myself going cross-eyed by lunch time.

People, I am sunk in the mire. I thought I'd better post something just to let the loved ones know that I am, in fact, alive. I'm just not kicking. It pains me to admit that the seasonal depression has me and in a big way. We hates it, hobbits, we do. The lovely Dis has gone far beyond any call of duty in his attempts to cheer me up, he is steadfast and kind and forgiving and I know that together we'll get me out of this funk at some point. I suggested rearranging some rooms in the house in order to shake my psychology up a bit. Dis frowned, but he even agreed to that if it will help. Good man.

In the meantime, I am working very slowly. Some of you know how this goes. Depression of any sort destroys one's motivation and makes it difficult to find the value in anything one might do. I can only offer my apologies to all of you working with me, and thank you for your patience as I crawl my way out of this pit.

I'll make a happy post next, I swear it. I don't like to put my negativity out there on the nets, there is enough of that as it is. I just thought those who care should know what's up.

xxx

I've been really bad about posting updates here. I've gotten used to the quick and lazy style of Facebook updates, alas. LiveJournal takes more effort. So here, in no particular order, are some updates.

-I'm currently 3/4 of the way through stealthmuffin's next novel MS. It's definitely a worthy successor to the first two books in the series, and it's been an incredibly quick read. I think I'll be able to finish it tomorrow, at which point, I'll be able to clear my head and switch back over to my own stuff. I really want to get this revision of Chameleon off of my plate, as hopeless as I think it is to try to sell it. Getting rid of it will be a huge weight off of my shoulders. And if my agent likes it and starts shopping it around, it'll be nice to have a piece in circulation that I'm not particularly attached to (unlike Machine, which every major SF publisher has already turned down, save one). Then I'll finally be able to turn to something else. Probably shorts, I think. I could really use a nice short or two under my belt. Hell, I might even try to revise the derivative piece of crap I had the writing group look at a couple of months ago.

- Speaking of shorts, I got a lovely piece of fan mail from Janis Ian today about "Captive Girl." Holy fucking shit -- a Grammy-winning singer/songwriter sent me fan mail. And speaking of writing new shorts, it's time to finally write a story that tops "Captive Girl," because as much as I appreciate all the attention that it's gotten and is still continuing to get, I'd really like to not feel like a lyric from "How Do You Sleep?" -- you know, the one that goes: "The only thing you done was yesterday, And since you're gone you're just another day." I can hear Lennon croon that line in my ear every time I get a new bit of praise for that old story.

- I've finally seen photos of my performance from the show up in Haverhill a couple of weekends ago, and I need to work on my game face. I thought I was projecting that I was feeling confident and pleased with myself, but in every picture, my expression is completely blank. Well, it's a step up from projecting fear, I suppose.

- In upcoming performance news, Kate and I are dancing this upcoming Sunday at Raks Spooki in Arlington. The line-up really kicks ass. I'm still flabbergasted we'll be up there alongside all those other amazing dancers. Kate and I taped our rehearsal on Sunday, and we're both very happy with how the dance is looking, so while I'm nervous for Sunday, I'm not anxious, if that makes any sense. I must remember the lesson of the game face for Sunday! Yes, we're allowed to look blank and haunted in our first dance, but damn it, I am going to project enjoyment for the second one!

- And we're also beginning to choreograph our dance for the December Za-Beth show. My hope is to be done with the rough draft choreo by this Saturday. It'll do us some good to do speed choreography, followed by speed-learning. We've tended to take months on choreo in the past, and if we're going to get anywhere as dancers, we really need to speed that up.

I think that's it.

Okay, that* was terrifying.

...and awesome.

ETA: Ha!  I fell in with a couple of folks during/after the basic safety class and they were all, "Climb with us tonight!  Join our Google group for additional future climbing!"  So I did, and glanced at a recent thread, and it turns out that I have apparently accidentally happened upon the very same group with which abyssinia4077 's friend--who had agreed to let me tag along on Thursday--climbs.  The world is teeny-tiny.  If this further turns out to be the same group as the davis_square climbers, I will laugh and laugh and laugh.

* Climbing.  On a proper wall.  For the first time since...2005?

Why is it that I'm still bothered by finding out that someone I had no chance with is dating someone else??  I should know better

Why have I not learned this lesson??

At first I saw this and thought, "Heh, what a goober". But then I thought, "Hmm...the goober surrounded by ladies", lol.

Finally got to see Rogue, which is, as it turns out, pretty good. I'm kind of sucker for movies wherein ginormous things with ginormous teeth chase people around and eat them. ( A couple screencaps...(NSFW - yaaaay! and spoilers - boooo!) )

Current Mood: naughty

My head hurts.

I am drunkz0r.

I go to bed now.

The morning we left to go look for Wayne I was utterly unrepentantly drunk.

( Chapter Seven. I go now & make myself a sandwich )

I don't have pets that need feeding. I don't have plants that need watering. Yet somehow I feel like my house misses me when I'm gone for a long time. It's nothing concrete - maybe it's just he extra layer of dust or the fact that the silence has developed legs and started walking around and cussing. But coming home after an extended absence still feels likes like a relief, like something was holding it's breath.

( chapter six. forget how much to drink )