Outline complete

Well, it took a couple weeks and 34 pages, but I've finally finished outlining my new book. I'm guestimating, without major deviations from the outline, that I'll have around a 450 page book when I'm finished writing. That's in a word document. I may have to cut the fucker in half for actual books, but I'm not worrying about that now. Now it's time to start writing. This should be fun.

WTF

Ok, so I couldn't post this earlier because I actually had to like work today, but here it is late. I was driving along, off to Between Books, when I found this guy standing on the side of the road with his pickup truck. Problem? His pickup truck was missing a wheel. I mean like totally missing. Not like he was driving along and the wheel disintigrated, but like the wheel, plus hubcap, plus the rim, all entirely missing. How in the holy hell does this happen? I mean, what possible scenario could there be that you're driving down Naamans road and your wheel is just gone? It didn't even fucking roll away! I looked around! It was just fucking gone! On the way back to work I saw a police officer on the scene. The cop looked just as confused as me! I'm very confused still. WHERE THE FUCK DID THAT GUY'S WHEEL GO?

So that was my day driving to buy books. How was your day? :)

Props to Gangles

I should have mentioned this earlier, but 'member how I sucked at learning the wisdom of Gangles? Turns out he's better at getting things through my head than I thought, since my Sifu told me I went from a D+ to a C+ in a week. That's progress motherfuckers. So Gangles: next drink is on me!

ok, I think this is funny

Name of my new book: Those Who Hunt Wizards.
Name of my outline: Those Who Hunt Outlines.

Lack of updates...

The reason I have not been doing any updating here lately is because of my new obsession: I am outlining my next book and I'm really getting involved in it. Obviously this is taking most of my writing energy and putting it in one place, but such is life. I'm sure I'll blog more when things happen in my life that I want to blog about, but for now, I'm writing teh bookxor. Stay tuned.

Continuing the trend... creepy

Tonight was interesting on many levels. For one, I drank scotch all night, so there's a good starting point. Second, even though I thought I would not, I got to see tall dark and sexy this evening, dressed to the mother fucking nines, which was nice, since he's had the plague for like weeks now. And, as it was a party, I was social for hours for the second damn night in a row! And enjoyed it. Weird.

But wait! It gets better. I had a vague worry that perhaps xgf might show up to this party, and though it seemed very unlikely, I really didn't want to have to deal with such a situation. Instead of xgf, I ran into a totally different ex-girlfriend. Normally, me + any ex-girlfriend = discomfort galore. This time? I ended up chatting with her and her boyfriend for most of the evening. Granted, I didn't spend as much time meeting new people as talking to people I already knew, but still, it's more social than I'm used to, so I'm obviously getting better. Obviously even to me at this point.

Now it's 3AM and I really probably shouldn't have just played Mercenaries for half an hour, but somehow I just couldn't leave the seven of clubs well enough alone. So as I slip into my chemically induced coma (perhaps the seventh time I've used that phrase today), at least I can happily remember putting bullet holes in everyone but my goddamn target. Woo!

Me? Social? No! Really?

Yep, I just got back from going to one of my work buddy's happy hours. Not two months ago the idea of going out to a happy hour without my partner in crime from work would have terrified me. Tonight? I just went out and hung out and had a good time. I didn't quite get convinced to head to Kahuna with some of them, but close. I'm not quite that social yet. I think I will be though. Tomorrow, a party I am going to with exactly one person I'm sure I know in attendence, should be an interesting party indeed. I'm taking with me SLASHER, a freaking sweet card game, though I doubt I'll get to play it. I will, however, make bad jokes, hit on women I don't know, and generally have a good time, or such is my plan. This is the advantage of my lovely new drugs: I can finally do things that I've wished I could do forever. Who knows? Maybe I'll even throw my own party and invite people I barely know! I have a house and all, perhaps parties are more fun in your own domicile. We shale see.

happy birthday to my good friend Mom

Mom, who is not my mother you fuckers, told me that I was one hell of a catch. Mom, again, not my mother, is perhaps the hottest woman I know personally. That makes me feel good. Very good. Rawr.

The old and the new are like oil and water somtimes...

I'm sure now that I've totally frustrated Gangles, he's just going to want to smack me next time I ask him a question, but that's ok. I'm an irritating student. Problem is, I am a second degree black belt. I have more than a decade's worth of knowledge. It is ingrained in my movements, my thoughts, and it just does not mix with the style of teaching in school I am at. Can I learn the forms? Yeah, fast, easy, and I love to. But can I learn the application? Not even slightly. I can do what I'm taught, but some things apparently can't be taught to me. It's something of an old dog new tricks scenario, but more than that, it's an entire adjustment of attitude.

In my karate school, new students with knew knowledge were told to not only continue to use their knowledge, but feel free to try to pass it on to the other students. At my karate school, evey new face with new ideas was a way for us to get new ideas and techniques. If we weren't capable of teaching the new face how to also use our style with what they'd already learned, then the failure was on our part rather than the students. (I say our, because I was on the teaching staff.)

In my new kung-fu school I am having to forget what I have learned because there is a different way of looking at things. Basics, obviously, are always important, but now I am having to take what I know and shelf it for a while so that I can start to absorb the new material. With nearly decades of doing the same thing under my belt, it's really, really hard for me to just not use my, let's face it, vast array of knowledge and just take the very simple approach. It is definitely something I should learn, and I wish I was better at it, but learning to hold back and just do the simple techniques they want to see is just frustrating the hell out of me. In this school my inability to bridge the two styles is my failure rather than the teacher's failure.

Personally I think it's a very good thing for me to be at this school struggling to learn how to deal with the new way of thinking because doing the same thing over and over can cause one to stagnate. Unlearning karate some could be the perfect thing for me to really grow as a martial artist. But my stubborn and perfectionist attitudes are hurting my ability to take this new material.

This actually works well with my therapy because it's forcing me into a situation I do not like and forcing me to work hard at something I can't necessarily do well yet. I know that I am failing now, but this does not mean I will continue to fail. It just means that right now, I cannot be obsessed with success because I can't succeed. If I can learn to calm down and learn to start to flow with the new information while somehow strangling my old "I'm a black belt" thinking for the time being, perhaps I can begin to get past my frustration and start to learn my new skills.

But goddamn is it hard.

At what point did handicapped start to mean incompetent?

Driving to work today, behind a handicapped driver, I got to thinking. People who are handicapped often have difficulties in life, so they have been given special rights such as specialized parking and entry at public buildings. These people can run the gamut from missing legs, to severe heart disease. These handicaps of these people provides them special rights over other people. That's all well and good, but at what point did getting a legal handicapped sticker and license plate give these people the right to drive like retards?

I know there are plenty of people out there who can't drive. Trust me, I lived in NJ for a while. I just recently visited FL. Scary places. But here in my home state of DE I am beset by these blue stickered psychopaths who don't seem to have much in the way of concern for anyone else on the road but themselves.

Today, behind the blue sticker of doom minivan, I watched this person do some interesting things. First and foremost, any curve, even one less than 10 degrees would involve a swerve into the oncoming traffic lane. I also got used to cycling my speed about +-20mph any time there was any change on the road. Such as shadows, sunlight, realizing there was a car oncoming, a guy way off the side of the road, a downward hill, an upward hill, and passing people sitting patiently at a stop sign. When we came to the final road I had to travel on, this person, sans turn signal, did not even bother to slow down at the stop sign and simply drove right on to the road. From what I could see, the driver didn't even glance left. Thank Christ no one was driving down that road at that time, or I would have been late to work.

This may sound like me bitching about one person, but this is just the latest blue-stickered driver that has left me cringing. Seriously, why do we let handicapped people get away with such gross negligence and incompetence? I have no solutions or suggestions or even ideas. I just don't get it.

Last clove

Well, I just smoked my last clove from the second pack. While I do have a vague interest in buying more, there's something that I'd need to overcome to get more cloves: I am very lazy. So I'm done smoking again. That was... what? Less than two weeks smoking? And just two packs. Ha! Take that addictive substance! But I do have a good portion of lighter fluid left... I should think of something interesting to do with that... :)

I promise I won't burn my house down.

MANTIS!

As you might have surmised from the title of my blog entry, I learned more of my Mantis form last night. Actually, I learned all of my Mantis form last night, so I can now go practice in my back yard and destroy more of my grass. But man, do I love my new Mantis form. It is, in and of itself, a more thorough workout than any single Karate kata(form) I can think of. Even Unsu, which I never had the pleasure of learning, can't compare to this simple Mantis form. Ok, when you include the tornado kick, dragon sweep, and general flow of this form, I guess you really can't call it simple, but it is hella cool and fun to do. Eventually I'll be able to actually perform the whole thing without once pausing to remind myself what actually comes next.

There is one move, however, in the middle, which I find very amusing. After performing a double tiger palm strike, you pull back into a cat stance. I was figuring on some kind of neat series of tiger moves in there, but no, I was mistaken. What you actually do essentially says to me, "Todays' form is brought to you by the letter T." You kick backwards, double palm strike forward, and try to get your body as level as possible. You look like a goddamn T. It's pretty silly, even as it is challenging and flows nicely into the next part. Hopefully that's the only letter of the alphabet I have to practice performing for a while.

You know, given my fourteen years of Karate, I have to say that I'm enjoying Kung Fu more right now. Don't get me wrong, I'm not going to start some debate about how Karate is or is not better than Kung Fu. That's a stupid argument. But I will say that because Kung Fu is more showy, I'm enjoying doing it more because it's just more fun to show off with. Plus it actually works more of my body than your average kata, so that's a plus. I can't wait to see what's next. I'm hoping for Snake or Crane, but as I've enjoyed every Kung Fu animal style so far, I'm just impatiently waiting. I think I'm back in the swing of Fu now. Woot woot!

Jim Butcher: Author Extrodinaire.

Some of you must read either the Dresden Files or the Alera books, but for those of you who don't, let me expound upon the majesty.

Dresden:
There aren't many book series wherein the first line in one of the books is "The building was on fire and it wasn't my fault." These books, and soon to be a series on the SciFi channel, are about the only wizard in the Yellow Pages. You'd find him under Wizard. He's basically a PI with this uncontrollable urge to make money who, all too often, helps women in need who can't necessarily pay up. Yes, he's ever so slightly too easy to manipulate if the manipulator has boobs, but these books are hilarious. They're also hella cool with the wizarding, vampires, etc, but the biggest aspect that you always remember is not making far through the books without snickering at some comment from Bob the Skull air spirit/PDA, or some snide aside from the main character that no one else gets. Plus Star Wars references. Me lovey long time. Unfortunately it's another 10-12 months before the next damn book comes out, but with 7 books so far and a planned 23 book series, this should keep up for a long time. Each book is better than the last, so theoretically by reading the 23rd book you will instantly achieve enlightenment.

Alera:
Coming from the same author, you'd probably expect the same style of writing, but in reality the truth is far from that. The world of Alera is a world wherein every human has what's called a fury, which is basically a spirit of one of the elements (water, earth, fire, air, wood, metal) that they can call upon for various purposes. For instance, metal crafters are often sword fighters or blacksmiths because of their increased ability to use metal. Water crafters are good at healing and feeling empathy for others, and hense are excellent lie detectors. And in this world where everyone has some level of skill with these furies, there's this poor kid Tavi to whom terrible things keep happening. Why? Because Tavi has no control of furies at all, he's considered a freak by basically everyone, and the only reason he's made it in life so far is because he's done the only thing he could: he got really freaking observant and smart and tends to win situations through smarts and nothing else. The kid himself is someone you can totally imagine being your favorite nephew, someone who has all those rough edges, but can so pull himself through it with the right thinking. Tavi's ability to get himself into and out of the most insanely dangerous situations is both aggrivating and incredibly endearing. These books are high fantasy at its best.

My Shitty Job.

There are things I do enjoy about my job: I'm in a technology field, I'm learning new skills and abilities, there are hot girls in my office. But there's plenty more to have problems with. Let's start the bitching!

1) I have no job title. So what? Well, when you try telling HR you're not getting paid enough for what you do and then tell them that you don't technically have a job title, if you manage to get them to give a flying fuck, tell me how. Here, if you have a job title, you can at least point out with truth that you are getting underpaid by some kind of standard.

2) I'm underpaid. Duh. Who isn't? But I really can't afford a house, a car, insurance on both, cable/internet, and a cell while also planning for my retirement. I'm sorry, but I can't live life if I can't do anything fun at all while I'm waiting for the rarest of rare good raises. I want to be a millionaire when I retire. I also want to be able to buy DVDs, CDs, books, video games, good food, good booze, while I'm still young. I don't think it unreasonable to think that enjoying life by spending some money should happen when I'm young too.

3) Abject boredom. One of the larger downsides of my job is that since I work for a huge company nothing ever actually happens. There's a lot of work to do out there, theoretically, but I can't figure out when I'll ever get to see it. Today, for example, a new special system was supposed to be pushed to everyone and I was going to get to start working on this new POS and have a deadline and everything! Didn't happen. Of course not. At the rate things go here, by the time two years has passed, I'll have done as much work as I did in the first four months at my previous job.

4) Craziness. There's always some kind of insanity going on here. Birthdays. Snack Days. Days where all the ladies in the office talk at the top of their lungs all goddamn day for no apparent reason. I really just want to sit in my cube and do my job, but that's more than a little difficult to do when I don't have a job and have people running all over the place yelling about whatever. Then there was that one time when three of the older ladies were discussing, of all things, thong underwear behind my cube, loudly.

5) My cube sits in a major traffic throughway for foot traffic. That means approxomately every three seconds, someone is busy walking past my cube behind me. This makes doing anything that doesn't look like work difficult. Considering the boredom I deal with near constantly, I need other things to amuse me. But if people, including managers, are going to keep wandering past behind me, that sure makes sitting here reading /. that much more irritating, to say nothing of my daily dose of web comics. My kingdom for a secluded cube!

Ok, I'm done bitching about my job. Those of you who know me have heard all this crap before. Those of you who don't must be really bored to be finding my blog, for Christ's sake. Hell, you probably work with me.

Being single sucks.

1) Now is the time for me to read WAY to much into every simple interaction I have with an attractive girl or young woman. Back when I wasn't single, if a pretty girl smiled at me I might have a fleeting thought of "she's cute, I wonder if she was flirting" before I'd forget about the thought and get back to what I was doing. Now every glance brings up a wave of internal dialogue like, "Woah, she looked at me! Is she interested? Should I talk to her, get those digits? Or am I insane? Did she just glance at me then glance away, bored? Shit. Now I don't know what to do. Maybe..." and so forth.

2) Rebounding is a very difficult situation to be stuck in. I'm not even entirely certain what counts as rebounding and how one can tell when one is done rebounding. Certainly, less than three weeks from being dumped, I am very likely rebounding. But how will I tell when it's over? Should I try not to to date at all to avoid unfortunate situations? Or should I try to date in an attempt to get over rebounding by replacing my unhappy thoughts with fresh thoughts, be they happy or unhappy? I practically feel like I should walk into a ladies night at a bar with a little name tag on me that states "rebounding: approach at your own risk". Knowing my luck, more girls would talk to me in that one night than in all my previous trips to bars in the past five years added together.

3) Helpful family members. Oh dear Christ, this can get annoying. And you really can't just do what you want to and scream at people to butt out, half because you understand that they actually are trying to help, a quarter because you'd like to keep getting free dinners from time to time, and a quarter because you're hoping that maybe, just maybe, one of them will actually find something worth dating for you. Of course, then you're in that awkward situation where you're in their debt for finding the person you're currently nailing (or trying to). Is there a Hallmark card for that? "Thanks for finding me some ass! I hope she wasn't/isn't a man!"

4) Your single friends. Sometimes this doesn't happen, but when it does... You're out at the bar with your buddies. A couple of the other guys with you are also single. All of you look at a hot girl and have similar dark designs. Now what? What's the protocol for this situation? Fight? Cock-block like it's your job? Roofies? What kind of girl wants to look at three single guys playing rock-paper-scissors to decide who gets to get rejected first? Don't answer that.

5) Well she's talking to me. Now what? So you've found something interesting and you've been chatting. How precisely are you supposed to gently get to the important details: single? available? not a psycho? didn't used to be the other gender? aren't currently the incorrect gender? Personally, I'm thinking of stealing an idea from Something Positive, and walking around with a clipboard and questionaire to hand to hot girls to do some weeding for me. Any girl who points out that I'm stealing ideas from a web comic, of course, immediately passes go and gets $200. Or a drink. Whatever.

I'm sure there's more annoying things about being single, but as I'm only barely single right now, I have yet to re-experience the wonder. Feel free to chime in with what I've missed.

My sister is insane.

Now, don't go gettin' me wrong, I do love the little darlin', but she's a nutcase on occasion. She works for a local flower shop, doesn't exactly make a lot of money, but she seems to be fairly happy with what she's doing, so more power to her. Now she's going to be training to be a Wedding Planner. Yes, just like the movie, just without anyone by the name of Lopez. This is, of course, a monumental change in her life since instead of arranging flowers, she's be directing rich idiots to buy floral arangements that she would then arrange.

Yes, so far as I can tell, the only real change in her job is that she'd have to talk to rich retards more often than she does now. I call them retards, not because they're bad people really, but because they'll drop $3000 on floral arrangements a month. A month. A fucking month for Christ's sake. That's retarded. Apparently, these people spend money that makes $3k look like a drop in the bucket if there's a wedding on.

So my dear sister wants to "help" these people with their weddings, but she's torn. In reality, my sister is a money nazi. She won't spend money unless she absolutely has to, so she has a real hard time justifying in her head convincing other people to spend money they don't need to. On the other hand, the more money she can convince these people to spend, the more money she ends up making in the long run. So while she's not necessarily happy about trying to essentially trick people into spending unnecessary money, she's sucking it up and trying to get rich people to think big.

Now we get to why my sister is insane. She's decided that people will respond better to her if she fakes a southern accent. That's right. She's convinced that if she learns how to work ya'll, reckon, and other such southern sayings into her normal speech that these idiots will spend more money. The hell? Now, while I may be far to fair a person to believe this shit, apparantly most notherners immediately assume someone with a southern accent is stupid. Or, at least, not as smart as said northerner. Fucking Yanks.

So what does all this mean? Now my sister is running around trying to talk slower, use reckon in her normal speech patterns, and is generally sounding like a retard. Not because she sounds like she's from the south so much as because she's sounds like she's trying to sound like a retard from the south. I would think that any southern bred person would want to smack my sister back into line, but this far, they've all agreed with her! I shudder to think of how the world has gotten to this point. I also shudder to think of what's gonna happen when little miss southerner forgets her accent in the middle of a wedding sales pitch.

Sadly, she comes by it naturally. My entire family likes to pretend we have accents from time to time. I am guilty of working an entire night, back when I worked in retail, faking a british accent. Frighteningly enough, the day after I did my brit-fakery, people came in looking for the british worker. My managers were very confused. Now if my managers were confused, I can only imagine what my sister's tiny Japanese boss with the thick accent will think when some rich person questions my sister's southern origin. I reckon that won't go well.