Today I write about music. However, I also want to brag that I completed two chapters this morning. Not only that, but BOTH came in under the new budget. In fact, I gained nearly 1,000-words between them. I did this be eliminated a 1,000-word scene between Khirsha and his great-grandmother. She went to the cutting room floor, so to speak. Poor old woman. First she lost her husband. Now she's lost herself. But the information she gives is really more for Book II.
So. Music. What do I write? Not sure. Haven't listened to much variety this week. Been so frickin' busy.
I don't know what kind of music I feel like listening to right now. Ever have that? Some people don't. They listen to the same stuff all the time. Now I'm certainly not beyond listening to even the same song over and over and over again, but my taste in music floats like a piece of fluff on a river. It tends to go where it goes without effort.
The 60's rock 'n' roll and the 50's rhythm and blues tend to be my favorites. But I like rockabilly, old country and western, folk, classical, jazz, and comedy tunes. It all depends on my mood.
I've still got Under My Wheels on Cat in the Buff, but that's not my energy level today. So I went to YouTube and put on Patti LaBelle's On My Own. Not sure that's my mood either. But it's closer than Alice Cooper.
The problem is that I don't know what I want to feel. That's the position I find myself in when I can't identify my mood. It's like I get to choose. Not sure what I want.
Just found something appropriate. Aerosmith's Dream On. Story of my life. I guess Alice Cooper was closer after all. Go figure.
Sailors on the Sea
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Friday, March 6, 2009
And I Thought I Was Doing So Well
Over on SOF-The People I posted about how cool it would be if my Swords of Fire Saga were to be published and successful, inspiring other writers to write stories from The Great Sea. Hey, I can dream, can't I?
There are so many stories I want to write. I can't keep up.
Back some time in the 1980s I drove to Wheaton College, near Chicago, IL, for a Christian Writers' Conference. It was the first time I had ever traveled so far from home on my own. One of the classes I took was by Myrna Grant, an established Christian author. (I couldn't find a Myrna Grant website, but here is a link to her credentials.) I liked her from the first. (Probably because she liked what I wrote.) One of the things she taught was that writers need to "find their place". Hers happened to be in Russia. She wrote a book, Vanya, about a young Russian soldier's experiences after becoming a Christian during a time of religious suppression.
Since she said that I have often thought about "my place". This is not the same as one's Happy Place, which I posted about before. This is about the place where one's stories are set. Myrna Grant wrote about Russia. Others write about city living. Some write about the hills of Appalachia. Others may write about the tundra, or deep in the ocean's depths.
My place is in medieval fantasy worlds. I guess that's why I made The Great Sea. I made it before hearing Myrna Grant's words. But it is my place. I can write most of my stories from The Great Sea and they do not have to relate to each other. All of those worlds mean independent stories. It's comforting to know I have a place for so many stories.
It is wearying to know virtually none of those stories are started, much less finished.
Speaking of that, I completed Chapter Fourteen (Judgement) today. Once again, Khirsha is in trouble. Serious trouble. The kind of trouble which is contagious to those around him. He may have just provided his grandfather's adversaries with what they need to remove him from being Head-of-Family. Not only that, but Sayla is involved, too. Oh, Khirsha. When will you learn?
The chapter came in significantly over word budget, despite my reducing its size by nearly 1,000-words. So once again I am about 2,500-words over budget. The good news is there are only a few chapters remaining. The bad news is I goofed on the chapter count. For some reason I was thinking there were only nineteen. There are twenty-two. This means my goal of 6,000-word chapters is too high. To achieve a word total of under 130,000-words I have to reduce the goal for the remaining eight chapters to 5,000-words. Quite a goal when I look and see only one of the remaining eight comes anywhere near that. No wonder I thought I was doing so well regarding story size. I had neglected to count about 20,000-words. Sigh.
I really do not want to have to go through this thing and tear apart more words. I hate it that so many assumptions are made regarding first books. I hate it that second and third books can violate all of those rules, and fourth books and beyond don't even have to be good. How many authors have I read who's works became less and less interesting as they added books? I won't name names, because someone is bound to get p*ssed off because I named one of their favorite authors.
But finding I have three more chapters than I thought was really bad news for me. I'm at 90,000-words. The book is supposed to be almost finished.
Ahhhhhhh!
There are so many stories I want to write. I can't keep up.
Back some time in the 1980s I drove to Wheaton College, near Chicago, IL, for a Christian Writers' Conference. It was the first time I had ever traveled so far from home on my own. One of the classes I took was by Myrna Grant, an established Christian author. (I couldn't find a Myrna Grant website, but here is a link to her credentials.) I liked her from the first. (Probably because she liked what I wrote.) One of the things she taught was that writers need to "find their place". Hers happened to be in Russia. She wrote a book, Vanya, about a young Russian soldier's experiences after becoming a Christian during a time of religious suppression.
Since she said that I have often thought about "my place". This is not the same as one's Happy Place, which I posted about before. This is about the place where one's stories are set. Myrna Grant wrote about Russia. Others write about city living. Some write about the hills of Appalachia. Others may write about the tundra, or deep in the ocean's depths.
My place is in medieval fantasy worlds. I guess that's why I made The Great Sea. I made it before hearing Myrna Grant's words. But it is my place. I can write most of my stories from The Great Sea and they do not have to relate to each other. All of those worlds mean independent stories. It's comforting to know I have a place for so many stories.
It is wearying to know virtually none of those stories are started, much less finished.
Speaking of that, I completed Chapter Fourteen (Judgement) today. Once again, Khirsha is in trouble. Serious trouble. The kind of trouble which is contagious to those around him. He may have just provided his grandfather's adversaries with what they need to remove him from being Head-of-Family. Not only that, but Sayla is involved, too. Oh, Khirsha. When will you learn?
The chapter came in significantly over word budget, despite my reducing its size by nearly 1,000-words. So once again I am about 2,500-words over budget. The good news is there are only a few chapters remaining. The bad news is I goofed on the chapter count. For some reason I was thinking there were only nineteen. There are twenty-two. This means my goal of 6,000-word chapters is too high. To achieve a word total of under 130,000-words I have to reduce the goal for the remaining eight chapters to 5,000-words. Quite a goal when I look and see only one of the remaining eight comes anywhere near that. No wonder I thought I was doing so well regarding story size. I had neglected to count about 20,000-words. Sigh.
I really do not want to have to go through this thing and tear apart more words. I hate it that so many assumptions are made regarding first books. I hate it that second and third books can violate all of those rules, and fourth books and beyond don't even have to be good. How many authors have I read who's works became less and less interesting as they added books? I won't name names, because someone is bound to get p*ssed off because I named one of their favorite authors.
But finding I have three more chapters than I thought was really bad news for me. I'm at 90,000-words. The book is supposed to be almost finished.
Ahhhhhhh!
Thursday, March 5, 2009
A Non-Writing Day
Today I got nothing done regarding my writing. That's okay, I guess. February was mostly productive and I'm only six or seven chapters away from finishing. This week was busy and I feel lucky to have completed two chapters and an interlude (these are roughly 1,000-word asides in which the reader gets a chance to learn what the antagonist is up to).
Today I brought my brother to the airport. To do that, I had to meet him at my niece's house. My brother was borrowing my sister's car and living in her townhouse, but my sister needs her car to be at her daughter's. My niece took her mother on an ocean cruise this week. The original plan was to go to Paris, France, but then the economy went into the toilet and a cruise became much more affordable.
Anyway, it's about forty miles to my niece's house. Then it was sixty miles to the airport. Then it was fifty miles to get home. I don't mind driving, but country driving. City driving s*cks. Especially when I'm driving in areas I do not know, such as the airport.
Got another view of Fort Snelling, and the National Cemetary. I've lived in Minnesota for more than fifty years and have never visited either. Maybe I should take Spouse and Son and do that this summer. If we really are bailing on the state it will be our last chance.
Got caught up on my blog visits. I only did cursory visits Monday and Tuesday, and none at all on Wednesday. Missed some really cool stuff.
I had planned on visiting my mother on the way home from the airport, but after my brother got us lost in St. Paul I felt kind of stressed. He had visited her earlier in the morning and said she was actually doing quite well. And her neighbors were taking care of her very nicely. She was up and about and not complaining of pain. So, feeling reassured (and stressed), I drove home. I was hungry and tired. When I got home I discovered there really wasn't anything good to eat for lunch. I found a freezer meal of some broccoli and shrimp stuff in a container not unlike those used by Chinese restaurants. Bland. So I made a couple of sandwiches and lay down with Firestar to watch a movie. Fell asleep.
I expect the non-writing will continue into tomorrow. My only hope is to wake at my regular time of 4:00 a.m. and get a chapter completed before Spouse and Son wake. Spouse generally works late on Fridays, so I will not have any time to write during the day. Been getting comments about the housework I haven't completed. Wish the d*mn thing would clean itself.
My computer is as fixed as it will be, I think. One of the big CPU users turns out to be the security software itself. Oh, well.
I guess I'm done rambling. Have a good day/night/morning/afternoon. Whatever it happens to be where you are. That's a cool thing about blogging. For some of you it's the middle of the night right now. Sweet dreams.
Today I brought my brother to the airport. To do that, I had to meet him at my niece's house. My brother was borrowing my sister's car and living in her townhouse, but my sister needs her car to be at her daughter's. My niece took her mother on an ocean cruise this week. The original plan was to go to Paris, France, but then the economy went into the toilet and a cruise became much more affordable.
Anyway, it's about forty miles to my niece's house. Then it was sixty miles to the airport. Then it was fifty miles to get home. I don't mind driving, but country driving. City driving s*cks. Especially when I'm driving in areas I do not know, such as the airport.
Got another view of Fort Snelling, and the National Cemetary. I've lived in Minnesota for more than fifty years and have never visited either. Maybe I should take Spouse and Son and do that this summer. If we really are bailing on the state it will be our last chance.
Got caught up on my blog visits. I only did cursory visits Monday and Tuesday, and none at all on Wednesday. Missed some really cool stuff.
I had planned on visiting my mother on the way home from the airport, but after my brother got us lost in St. Paul I felt kind of stressed. He had visited her earlier in the morning and said she was actually doing quite well. And her neighbors were taking care of her very nicely. She was up and about and not complaining of pain. So, feeling reassured (and stressed), I drove home. I was hungry and tired. When I got home I discovered there really wasn't anything good to eat for lunch. I found a freezer meal of some broccoli and shrimp stuff in a container not unlike those used by Chinese restaurants. Bland. So I made a couple of sandwiches and lay down with Firestar to watch a movie. Fell asleep.
I expect the non-writing will continue into tomorrow. My only hope is to wake at my regular time of 4:00 a.m. and get a chapter completed before Spouse and Son wake. Spouse generally works late on Fridays, so I will not have any time to write during the day. Been getting comments about the housework I haven't completed. Wish the d*mn thing would clean itself.
My computer is as fixed as it will be, I think. One of the big CPU users turns out to be the security software itself. Oh, well.
I guess I'm done rambling. Have a good day/night/morning/afternoon. Whatever it happens to be where you are. That's a cool thing about blogging. For some of you it's the middle of the night right now. Sweet dreams.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
I've So Much To Say
Don't worry. I'm not going to say it all. Won't even come close. It's getting late in the day and I have to prepare supper for Son and myself. No idea at this time what it will be. Only know it won't taste very good. I don't think we have much good stuff to eat right now. Probably hot dogs, pork and beans, and potato chips. Yum.
I'm a mass of conflicting emotions. They released my mother from the hospital today. I'd like to say that it's wonderful her doctors believe she is ready to go home. Unfortunately, it wasn't her doctors who decided she was ready to go home. It was her insurance company. Those people decided that a woman who has eaten two real meals in a row for the first time in a week, and who only needs two people to help her stand out of her wheel chair, is completely ready to go back to her tiny apartment and live by herself. No more hospital. No short term care. Nothing.
No more of that. I touched on my hatred of insurance companies on A Voice in the Wind.
I've only managed to complete one more chapter. It was a short one. Short enough to lower me down to just 600-words over budget with six chapters to go.
Got a bin of pictures and stuff from my aunt today. She thought there might be pictures of my siblings and my old house in there some place. I spent a couple of hours going through it and found no pictures of my old house. There weren't any of myself or my younger sister, Helvie. There were a few of my older siblings. Mostly, it was pictures of my aunts and uncles on my mother's side, and grandparents and great-grandparents. There were also some legal documents, such as birth certificates, wedding certificates (found one for my great-grandfather and mother from 1897), and even some military things (which includes an Award for Victory Medal issued to my grandmother's second husband in 1934 - for his participation in World War I). There were some letters, too. Some written in what I believe to be Danish. (My grandmother traces her lineage back to the King of Denmark - like so many others. [grin])
I also discovered about a half dozen or more handwritten poems. These are not signed, so I cannot be sure who authored them. However, my grandmother was a writer, and virtually all of the items in the bin once belonged to her, so I am guessing I have stumbled upon some of her writing. The papers are mostly yellowed, which would indicate an age near my own. The handwriting is difficult to read at times, and there are many corrections. When I get them sorted better I'll post some. Maybe all.
Most of the pictures are unidentified, or taken from such a distance as to make identification impossible even with a name. People just do not know how to take a photograph. But there are a few cute ones from when my grandmother was young. My sister, Lynahr, looked a lot like Grandma when Grandma was young. My understanding is that Grandma was far more "wild" then my sister, although not completely "naughty".
Several pictures of men driving covered wagons and/or buggies. Kind of fascinating. Once my mother really has recovered I plan to either bring her to my house, or bring the pictures to her house. Perhaps we can identify some of the people.
All of those pictures. Each one has a story. Most of the people in them are gone now. Just my mother, her sister, and her brother. Oh, and a cousin.
Heck of a day, huh?
I'm a mass of conflicting emotions. They released my mother from the hospital today. I'd like to say that it's wonderful her doctors believe she is ready to go home. Unfortunately, it wasn't her doctors who decided she was ready to go home. It was her insurance company. Those people decided that a woman who has eaten two real meals in a row for the first time in a week, and who only needs two people to help her stand out of her wheel chair, is completely ready to go back to her tiny apartment and live by herself. No more hospital. No short term care. Nothing.
No more of that. I touched on my hatred of insurance companies on A Voice in the Wind.
I've only managed to complete one more chapter. It was a short one. Short enough to lower me down to just 600-words over budget with six chapters to go.
Got a bin of pictures and stuff from my aunt today. She thought there might be pictures of my siblings and my old house in there some place. I spent a couple of hours going through it and found no pictures of my old house. There weren't any of myself or my younger sister, Helvie. There were a few of my older siblings. Mostly, it was pictures of my aunts and uncles on my mother's side, and grandparents and great-grandparents. There were also some legal documents, such as birth certificates, wedding certificates (found one for my great-grandfather and mother from 1897), and even some military things (which includes an Award for Victory Medal issued to my grandmother's second husband in 1934 - for his participation in World War I). There were some letters, too. Some written in what I believe to be Danish. (My grandmother traces her lineage back to the King of Denmark - like so many others. [grin])
I also discovered about a half dozen or more handwritten poems. These are not signed, so I cannot be sure who authored them. However, my grandmother was a writer, and virtually all of the items in the bin once belonged to her, so I am guessing I have stumbled upon some of her writing. The papers are mostly yellowed, which would indicate an age near my own. The handwriting is difficult to read at times, and there are many corrections. When I get them sorted better I'll post some. Maybe all.
Most of the pictures are unidentified, or taken from such a distance as to make identification impossible even with a name. People just do not know how to take a photograph. But there are a few cute ones from when my grandmother was young. My sister, Lynahr, looked a lot like Grandma when Grandma was young. My understanding is that Grandma was far more "wild" then my sister, although not completely "naughty".
Several pictures of men driving covered wagons and/or buggies. Kind of fascinating. Once my mother really has recovered I plan to either bring her to my house, or bring the pictures to her house. Perhaps we can identify some of the people.
All of those pictures. Each one has a story. Most of the people in them are gone now. Just my mother, her sister, and her brother. Oh, and a cousin.
Heck of a day, huh?
Monday, March 2, 2009
Too Much to Ask
Another piece from the Bevie James collection of fine poetry.
It was more to ask than I had a right
To be wonderfully pretty, instead of a sight
I wish that I had been adored
Instead of repulsive and always ignored
I envy those who then were pretty
Who got cute names, like Love and Kitty
Everyone wanted them in their arms
Kissing, cuddling, sharing charms
Janisian's version was better.
It was more to ask than I had a right
To be wonderfully pretty, instead of a sight
I wish that I had been adored
Instead of repulsive and always ignored
I envy those who then were pretty
Who got cute names, like Love and Kitty
Everyone wanted them in their arms
Kissing, cuddling, sharing charms
Janisian's version was better.
Progress Report
Well, I completed Chapter Twelve this morning. I had hoped to get through two chapters, but that just didn't happen. Chapter Twelve was so very long it took more than two hours to get through. By then I was sleepy and returned to bed.
I'm glad to have finished the chapter, but I was disappointed I wasn't able to reduce its size better. It's still over 8,000-words. That's more than the entire Apprentice story. It lifted me up to about 4,200-words over budget. I have four chapters which have contributed to this heft. This chapter wasn't the largest of the four. Neither was it the smallest.
If all continues at the current pace I shall be finished some time this month. I'm not making any promises, even to myself, but it is possible I could be done by the end of next week. Do not hold your breath (or you'll turn blue and pass out).
The next chapter should be interesting. It was always one of the smaller chapters. Then I moved a critical scene forward (creating a new chapter in the process). It is possible that the original Chapter Thirteen will simply merge with Chapter Fourteen and I will be back on track with my chapters. (I've had to rename them up by one since creating the new chapter.)
In any case, the story is moving along. Khirsha is having to deal with the consequences of agreeing to be "visited" by Avalina. It is costing him Sayla. His problem is like every young person's problem: he likes them both and would like to have both visit him. They see it differently. For one thing, the two girls don't even like each other. Meanwhile, the evidence continues to trickle in as to the Traitor's identity. If Khirhsa doesn't put the pieces together soon he is going to find more than his grandfather's position as Head-of-Family is at risk. Khirhsa's life could be on the line.
I like Khirsha. He's got a lot going for him. But sometimes he can be as dense as - well, me. Not that I mind. I just wish I had his physical talent. Or even Sayla's. She's an excellent hunter. Unfortunately, right now she's hunting the wrong game. If you know what I mean.
I'm glad to have finished the chapter, but I was disappointed I wasn't able to reduce its size better. It's still over 8,000-words. That's more than the entire Apprentice story. It lifted me up to about 4,200-words over budget. I have four chapters which have contributed to this heft. This chapter wasn't the largest of the four. Neither was it the smallest.
If all continues at the current pace I shall be finished some time this month. I'm not making any promises, even to myself, but it is possible I could be done by the end of next week. Do not hold your breath (or you'll turn blue and pass out).
The next chapter should be interesting. It was always one of the smaller chapters. Then I moved a critical scene forward (creating a new chapter in the process). It is possible that the original Chapter Thirteen will simply merge with Chapter Fourteen and I will be back on track with my chapters. (I've had to rename them up by one since creating the new chapter.)
In any case, the story is moving along. Khirsha is having to deal with the consequences of agreeing to be "visited" by Avalina. It is costing him Sayla. His problem is like every young person's problem: he likes them both and would like to have both visit him. They see it differently. For one thing, the two girls don't even like each other. Meanwhile, the evidence continues to trickle in as to the Traitor's identity. If Khirhsa doesn't put the pieces together soon he is going to find more than his grandfather's position as Head-of-Family is at risk. Khirhsa's life could be on the line.
I like Khirsha. He's got a lot going for him. But sometimes he can be as dense as - well, me. Not that I mind. I just wish I had his physical talent. Or even Sayla's. She's an excellent hunter. Unfortunately, right now she's hunting the wrong game. If you know what I mean.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Open the Vents
Today is a vent day and I think I shall.
Although most things have been going well over the past few days, there is one thing which has not: my computer. That has been slower than ever.
I had the trouble with the virus thing last weekend and early in the week. I think it's taken care of, but the computer speed didn't come back. Maybe it's my computer. Maybe it's the internet connection. Maybe it's something else. I don't know. There was a time I earned my living writing software, but hardware connections, firewalls, internet programming, and system stuff never interested me, so I never knew much about it. I probably know more about the inner workings of my car than the computer. The result? I'm at the mercy of those who know more.
For me, I want the computer to be like my car, or television, or telephone, or any other device I own. I want it to work when I call upon it. That used to be true of the computer and it used to be true of the television. Now the computer takes it's jolly good time to do anything. I click on a link to YouTube and I may wait two or three minutes before I hear any music. I try to switch to a new site and it can take up to five minutes before I get there. Drives me nuts. I'm just not that patient with inanimate objects.
The television really p*sses me off!
Some genius somewhere decided that the old analog signal wasn't good enough. Now we have this new HD piece of sh*t. Whoever invented this should be sat down in a chair every day so people can walk by and slap them in the face. Multiple times.
With the old analog signal, if you weren't getting good reception you might get a fuzzy picture. Annoying, but at least you could watch your program. Now, with the better HD method, if you don't get the good signal you get a picture made up of nearly random squares - with no sound. Or, you get the blue screen of death telling you that you have no signal. The one station here keeps showing an antennae to use in order to get good reception. Guess what? That's the antennae we have.
Most people probably don't care because they either subscribe to cable or dish or satallite or whatever. We don't have that kind of money. We get the handful of local stations and that's it. Well we used to get those stations. Now we get four - if we're lucky. And guess what? Only two are stations we would be inclined to watch.
It's probably some sort of frickin' scam to force people into purchasing some service. Why is it when we improve things we only make them worse? Then we refuse to admit what we did was complete horse-hocky and so refuse to return to a method that actually worked?
The driver's seat on my car just broke. The poor thing. Lucky it isn't alive or it'd be in terrible pain. Front bumper had to be sawed off. Rear hatch can't stay open without a prop. Seat cloth is wearing out and metal is beginning to poke through. Pizza stains all over passenger seat (from when I delivered pizza for my money). Driver seat broken and now rocking like a 1960s go-go dancer. Windows broken so that if you roll them down you must stop the car and get out to put them back up again. Dents and scratches. Poor car.
And it isn't just technology.
The roof our our house leaks in at least three places. Can't afford to fix it. The carpeting looks like we keep cattle . (It's original.) Note for the future: If we ever get another house, or are able to keep this one after all, NEVER put in beige carpeting through major walkways. The siding on the garage was blown off and now we have a wonderful royal blue tarp covering the wall. Very decorative. We can't fix the siding either. When this thing goes up for sheriff's auction next week (or is it the week after) whoever buys it is going to have to spend a good amount of money putting it back in order. It isn't that we trashed the place. We just can't fix anything anymore.
My legs hurt all the time, and I mean 24-7. I can barely feel my feet. My stomach doesn't close properly, which means even with the medicine I take I spend more than a fair amount of time in the bathroom. I have no endurance. Just standing in a store for more than five or ten minutes puts me into a clammy sweat. Forget walking any distance. I'm up to sixteen minutes on the treadmill (although I haven't actually walked in several days), but once I passed twelve minutes I find I am completely spent when I finish.
I so relate to Ron Weasley's comment: Why does everything I own have to be rubbish?
You know what's funny though? Despite all of this I'm in a good mood. Well, mostly. I'm not crabby anyway. And I don't feel like crying. Why? Because I know there are more people than I can count who would love to trade places with me.
I have Spouse and Son. We're still a family. My Mother is recovering nicely from her cancer surgery. My friend has her medicine. My niece has taken my sister on an ocean cruise - just because she loves her mother. My brother will be arriving in town this evening to visit Mother. And I won the game we played this morning! Well, the first time. Son won the rematch.
Life could be so much more miserable than it is. So I'm happy that is isn't. I like to crab and complain, but most of the time that's because it's funny. (Not to you, but to me.) I've an odd sense of humor. Laughing at my misery seems to make it less offensive somehow. It helps me live with reality. And today's reality is:
My Computer is Frickin' Slow!
D*MN!
Although most things have been going well over the past few days, there is one thing which has not: my computer. That has been slower than ever.
I had the trouble with the virus thing last weekend and early in the week. I think it's taken care of, but the computer speed didn't come back. Maybe it's my computer. Maybe it's the internet connection. Maybe it's something else. I don't know. There was a time I earned my living writing software, but hardware connections, firewalls, internet programming, and system stuff never interested me, so I never knew much about it. I probably know more about the inner workings of my car than the computer. The result? I'm at the mercy of those who know more.
For me, I want the computer to be like my car, or television, or telephone, or any other device I own. I want it to work when I call upon it. That used to be true of the computer and it used to be true of the television. Now the computer takes it's jolly good time to do anything. I click on a link to YouTube and I may wait two or three minutes before I hear any music. I try to switch to a new site and it can take up to five minutes before I get there. Drives me nuts. I'm just not that patient with inanimate objects.
The television really p*sses me off!
Some genius somewhere decided that the old analog signal wasn't good enough. Now we have this new HD piece of sh*t. Whoever invented this should be sat down in a chair every day so people can walk by and slap them in the face. Multiple times.
With the old analog signal, if you weren't getting good reception you might get a fuzzy picture. Annoying, but at least you could watch your program. Now, with the better HD method, if you don't get the good signal you get a picture made up of nearly random squares - with no sound. Or, you get the blue screen of death telling you that you have no signal. The one station here keeps showing an antennae to use in order to get good reception. Guess what? That's the antennae we have.
Most people probably don't care because they either subscribe to cable or dish or satallite or whatever. We don't have that kind of money. We get the handful of local stations and that's it. Well we used to get those stations. Now we get four - if we're lucky. And guess what? Only two are stations we would be inclined to watch.
It's probably some sort of frickin' scam to force people into purchasing some service. Why is it when we improve things we only make them worse? Then we refuse to admit what we did was complete horse-hocky and so refuse to return to a method that actually worked?
The driver's seat on my car just broke. The poor thing. Lucky it isn't alive or it'd be in terrible pain. Front bumper had to be sawed off. Rear hatch can't stay open without a prop. Seat cloth is wearing out and metal is beginning to poke through. Pizza stains all over passenger seat (from when I delivered pizza for my money). Driver seat broken and now rocking like a 1960s go-go dancer. Windows broken so that if you roll them down you must stop the car and get out to put them back up again. Dents and scratches. Poor car.
And it isn't just technology.
The roof our our house leaks in at least three places. Can't afford to fix it. The carpeting looks like we keep cattle . (It's original.) Note for the future: If we ever get another house, or are able to keep this one after all, NEVER put in beige carpeting through major walkways. The siding on the garage was blown off and now we have a wonderful royal blue tarp covering the wall. Very decorative. We can't fix the siding either. When this thing goes up for sheriff's auction next week (or is it the week after) whoever buys it is going to have to spend a good amount of money putting it back in order. It isn't that we trashed the place. We just can't fix anything anymore.
My legs hurt all the time, and I mean 24-7. I can barely feel my feet. My stomach doesn't close properly, which means even with the medicine I take I spend more than a fair amount of time in the bathroom. I have no endurance. Just standing in a store for more than five or ten minutes puts me into a clammy sweat. Forget walking any distance. I'm up to sixteen minutes on the treadmill (although I haven't actually walked in several days), but once I passed twelve minutes I find I am completely spent when I finish.
I so relate to Ron Weasley's comment: Why does everything I own have to be rubbish?
You know what's funny though? Despite all of this I'm in a good mood. Well, mostly. I'm not crabby anyway. And I don't feel like crying. Why? Because I know there are more people than I can count who would love to trade places with me.
I have Spouse and Son. We're still a family. My Mother is recovering nicely from her cancer surgery. My friend has her medicine. My niece has taken my sister on an ocean cruise - just because she loves her mother. My brother will be arriving in town this evening to visit Mother. And I won the game we played this morning! Well, the first time. Son won the rematch.
Life could be so much more miserable than it is. So I'm happy that is isn't. I like to crab and complain, but most of the time that's because it's funny. (Not to you, but to me.) I've an odd sense of humor. Laughing at my misery seems to make it less offensive somehow. It helps me live with reality. And today's reality is:
My Computer is Frickin' Slow!
D*MN!
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