Or at least bad timing. I’m one of those creatives whose brain doesn’t shut off. I drive to work, I develop characters. I’m working on my staff’s schedules at work, I mentally run through 17-18 different permutations of an encounter that I’ve planned for my characters that I highly doubt they’ll even attempt. I watch tv, I tune out and start rewriting the plot. I go to bed, I wake up at 3 in the morning with the cheesiest pun of a title for an episode of my star wars campaign that I have to remember.
And there’s the rub. 90% of the time, these ideas pounce on me at the wrong time. Or in the wrong place. You’d think that by now, I’d have learned to carry a notebook with me. Nope. I did that for awhile, then kept leaving the notes around. Yes, I even had one of those silly little digital recorders with me in the car for awhile. Couldn’t stand talking to the thing. Like most people, I hate the sound of my own voice. Plus I found that the batteries were always dead when I actually did try to use the thing.
I’ve called myself and left voicemail. I’ve scribbled notes on napkins in restaurants. Most of the time I just let the thought rattle around in my head until pen finds paper, or fingers find keys. A lot of times these days, I even will just text random burbles to friends without context or anything more than the briefest explanation.
Thankfully, the couple of friends that I end up usually sending things to are creative enough to understand and humour me as I go daft in my old age.
Can’t stop… Clowns will eat me.
Oh, and in case you were wondering about the gloriously bad pun title for my Star Wars campaign…
I’m excited. I managed to get tickets to a speaking event with my all time favourite author. The one, the only, the infinitely estimable Neil Gaiman. It’s my birthday present to myself. I can’t wait!
I’m way more excited for this than knowing that both David Tennant and Matt Smith will be at the comic con this weekend. I’m a huge Doctor Who fan but even that pales in comparison to The Neil.
I’ve never drank deeply from the kool-aid offered by the cult of celebrity. I understand that they’re just people and while I respect their work and it’s contribution to my imagination, I just feels off to me to idolize them.
All that being said, I am definitely doing just that with Neil and I have with other authors. I remember meeting Guy Gavriel Kay just after he released Ysobel and was practically dumbstruck trying to articulate the profound effect his works had on me. I dont really have an explanation. I guess I’ll always be a bigger book nerd than tv nerd.
Well, I just looked at my stats and as of this post, I’m sitting with more posts in the past three months than I have written in the past 9 years prior to that.
I’m somewhat proud of myself for this. I may not be posting daily, or even weekly, but I am posting and actually making time to write a post and to formulate ones in my head. In fact I know I had a post I wanted to write instead of this one, but I’ll be damned if I can remember what it was.
I am aware that not many people are reading this any more (an average daily visitor count of 2-3 tops) but this doesn’t overly bother me. I didn’t do this originally for other people’s entertainment. I did it as an outlet for my own creativity and as a personal catharsis. If you care to come along for the ride, you’re more than welcome. If not, it’s no big deal either.
I’ve noticed that a lot of my more recent posts (this one included) tend to be somewhat more introspective than those I posted in the past. I don’t really have a solid answer as to why that is. Maybe it’s fatherhood. Maybe it’s the state of the world these days. Maybe it’s age. It’s certainly not wisdom (that’s a dump stat).
I can’t say why, but I’m not going to stop. The muse says write, and I write. If the words tumble out of my brain and turn introspective, I’m not going to say otherwise. I’m just the vessel. Along for the ride. Let’s see where we go.
My two girls started the new school year this week. Grade 7 for the eldest, grade 4 for the youngest. Like all parents who look at their kids at this moment as they head off to school or board the bus, I too got a dose of “Holy shit, my children have grown so much!”.
Time is a subtle bastard. He sneaks up on you when you least expect it and bumps you just hard enough to jostle your comfy rose coloured glasses off and as you look around in a daze, you catch a glimpse of reality in the harsh light of day and see your children, not as you always see them: as your little girls, but as the young women they are quickly becoming.
It can throw you for a pretty big loop because you’re not expecting it. One moment, you’re holding this tiny infant in your arms, bursting with love and the next they’re giving you the universal teenage brush-off to signify how uncool you are: “Whatever, dad.”
Thankfully the eldest hasn’t fully crossed to the dark side yet and five minutes later she’s back to “I love you daddy. Can we play Little Big Planet together?” One of these days though, I’ll blink and even that will be just a memory. Ahh, Time, you bastard. I hate you just a little bit in times like this, but at the same time, without that subtle jostling, I wouldn’t see the beauty right in front of me and cherish the moments I do have.
No. You shut up! I’m not crying. You’re crying….
Errr. Anyways. I’m just going to sit in the corner here clinging vainly to the false hope that they’ll always be my little girls. At least until the next time Time comes along and knocks me spinning…
So, Tam and the girls went down to the states for a week to visit her mom on her birthday. Due to blackout restrictions at my work, I wasn’t able to make it.
While I was sad to not be going and enjoying some quality fam-jam time, the introverted nerdy recluse that lurks in the core of my being secretly reveled in a week without the wife or kids.
My week of bachelor life however started off to mixed results. I woke up on the Saturday and managed to pull a stupid: I locked myself out of the house. I knew I’d done it the second I closed the door behind me. Yay for having to climb in my kids bedroom window. Double yay for not having the neighbours call the cops on me.
Thankfully, the afternoon turned out somewhat better. Managed to have a few of the guys over and we played board games for most of the evening. Not something that I regularly get a chance to do, and the fact that we all had piles of shame we needed to work through was incentive. I would have liked to get through more, but we’re not as young as we used to be.
The rest of the week passed somewhat uneventfully. I mostly just worked and came home to an empty house. Too empty to be honest. When I’ve been alone in the past, I’ve thought nothing of it. It’s part of the background. This time though, there was definitely silence. Sure, the cats were racing about being shitheads, but the lack of people in the house was definitely noticable and once I noticed, it became somewhat disconcerting.
You know that feeling you get when you’re alone and your mind starts playing tricks on you and your imagination goes into overdrive? Yeah? Picture that amplified over a whole week. I’m not ashamed to admit that I slept with a light on. It didn’t help the silence, but as I’m a hardcore Doctor Who nerd nothing really does…
Ultimately, I came to the conclusion that as much as I’m a nerdy introvert, having a connection to the world is a necessity. The noise and chaos of my life has become part of who I am and without it, I don’t feel normal. Who knew?!?!
Growing up I was shy, quiet and very reserved. These days, I’d be labeled an introvert but back when I was growing up I was a considered a nerd and had very few friends. I’d tried Hockey but it wasn’t for me. I’d tried Cubs and it wasn’t for me. I’d tried soccer and I liked it but I wasn’t amazing at it. While I was never picked on or harassed like the extreme end of the nerd spectrum, I wasn’t ever part of the cool kids cliques either. I was a blip on the school radar and that was it. Which made me very happy. I enjoyed the invisibility (though the slew of 80s teen movies had me secretly dreaming to be the hero of my own story). I survived by telling stories inside my head and hanging with the few friends I did have.
My mind was a far better place than this drab reality that we currently subscribe to. My cousin had turned me on to Tolkien and Lewis and they fueled my early imagination. Narnia and Middle Earth were my homes away from home, along with Treasure Island and a thousand other fantasies. My imagination roamed these worlds created by others and dreamt of something more. Then, in the summer of ’84, I met a kid named Brian Henderson and everything changed. Continue reading “In The Beginning…”
In an effort to retain my sanity while my store goes into liquidation I’m going to compile a list of all the memorable douchebags that treat myself or my staff without any human decency and I will post them here for your enjoyment.
Cleaning out the pipes and tweaking the intertubes. Don’t mind the mess.
In other words. I had to reinstall WordPress on the backend of the blog because it wouldn’t manually update and it ended up breaking a few things. I will be working on it over the next little while to restore a semblance of functionality but there is no real timeline at this point. Stay tuned.
Who knows, I may even start posting more again. *gasp*
I shall refrain from excessively commenting on my lack of posts. It’s become too repetitive really. The TL;DR version is: Computer broke and life happened. Moving on.
Bringing you up to speed from my last post to this one is as simple as this: Healing from gall bladder surgery took about a month to be truly back to my old self. I got fed up with Mark’s as they weren’t giving me the promotion that I’d been trying for. Got a new job at Target as of this past February as a Hardlines Team Leader and have been loving it ever since. Kids are growing like weeds. Wife is as hot as ever (despite her belief to the contrary). About the only thing that hasn’t gone overly well is that as an unwanted and somewhat inconvenient after effect of my gall bladder surgery back in September, I have some possibly damaged vocal cords that make me sound like I have a permanent case of laryngitis. Think of Christian Bale’s Batman. That is essentially how my voice sounds on a regular basis, except that I can’t project over any distance with my voice. Other people have described it as I sound like Patti & Selma from The Simpsons. I’m going to go with Batman… He’s far cooler.
While it doesn’t hurt, it is definitely damned inconvenient, especially when you work in a retail environment that sort of requires constant conversation.
On the plus side, I recently got around to having a doctor look at it and the guess is that there is a lesion of some sort on it and now I’m waiting to see a specialist soon to properly diagnose and treat. I know some of you are wondering, why the hell I didn’t get it seen sooner than this if my surgery was last September. Simply put, I got lazy and the aforementioned “life” happened. It didn’t hurt and I kept thinking that it would heal on its own. It hasn’t and I finally got around to doing something about it.
And that brings you up to speed on my life for the time being. Now carry on with your lives and I’ll carry on with mine.
If you do come back, I will promise to have fixed all the dead and dying links on the sidebar… Meh, who am I kidding, They’ll get done when they get done… aka eventually.