Another Attack

Well I had another seizure like attack today. This one seems to be less about worry and more about not saying enough to people. I don't really talk with people because I don't want to seem rude. I want to make people happy, and the only way I know how to do this is by not interrupting others while they are speaking. This might include people who are annoying me, and they will not shut up about their own little worlds. I was taught by my parents to not interrupt others while they are speaking, including them, but sometimes the topics can just go on and on without stopping.

Speaking of parents, my Dad can be in my head a lot. His voice seems to be constantly yelling at me about the many possible screw ups that can occur. The "yelling" seems to be echos of when he yelled at me from other times. I guess they just carry over because they were so powerful.

Other things that were powerful memories for me as a kid seem to hold over into my adult hood. One of them is when I was caught in a room I was not supposed to be in. Another was of scheduling a haircut during school hours. I got a firm yelling on both of these occasions. Being haunted by theses memories makes me feel awkward and they rule over me. The other side of this is that of memories that might have occurred. These are scenarios that I play in my mind of things I might have done to people, but do not act on them for fear of the consequences. One of the most recent is of being caught by my room mate as I watched his porn collection. Others are of just mean things to do to people, like flipping the bird at my instructors. By thinking of the consequences, I self punish myself by not acting on them. I guess by holding in these acts and thinking of how bad I might get punished makes me have these seizure like symptoms.

Another thing that can get on my nerves is our dog, Scruffy. Scruffy is a very curious dog who can get into anything. The thing that annoys me the most about her is how she can't seem to make up her mind on wether she wants to be inside or outside the house. The reason that she wants to be outside is to either go to the bathroom, or to get into the trashcan that I just emptied from the kitchen to the trashbins outside. Her begging interups me in relaxing while watching television.

A final thought as to why I have these attacks is because of how frustrated I get at my computer being too slow. When I want to either open up a new window or blow it up to full scale, the way that it doesn't seem to respond frustrates the hell out of me. That just about does it. I feel a whole lot better now.

Anger Issues with my father

I had a huge bout of seizure like spells today. I'm not sure what causes these. Mom thinks they might be anger related to being yelled at by Dad. He treats me like a kid sometimes, and that makes me mad. But instead of yelling back at him, I just hold it all in, and that is what might be the cause of all the seizure like simptoms. The first time I had these, I did not think I was mad, just a little homesick.

I do seem to hold in a lot of my feelings most of the time. I guess I just want to avoid confrontation because of all the yelling. Yelling to me brings out a lot of bad feelings and just brings people down, especially me. I guess I just want to feel happy instead of sad because I feel better. I think the whole world would be a lot better without sadness because everyone can get along.

My brother-in-law Mike says that the "Borlands" do not really talk; they just assume what everyone else is up to. I guess that he is right because the Borlands don't talk, we just assume everything is okay with everybody, and it would be okay to come to things uninvited. There is no plan of action, only last minute warnings. I think that is so true. I know that sometimes with Dad, he doesn't talk with me about certain ideas that he wants to get done. He only explains to me at the last minute, and I hate that. I will try and talk with him tonight. Maybe that will ease up the tension between us, and I can feel better.

A few new thoughts

Well blog fans, I'm back and raring to go. I do want to mention that I will be here to tell of my many exploits and daily reviews of different things that are happening to me. The only thing I am currently writing is a short story about a man who kills people on a night hike. It should be very scary, and I hope I can finish it soon, so that everyone can enjoy reading it. I am also researching for my epic poem about half gods from another world. I'm sure it will look great once it is finished. Take care now, Ron

My last entry for this class

Wow, I can't believe I am at the last entry for this class. The time sure has flown by. I remember when this was just a blogging assignment for another class, and I decided to continue with it for this class. I am so glad I did. With each entry I put in, my thoughts became more organized, and I got a better reflection on how to deal with my problems. I even used it to get ideas for different stories to tell. The most prominent one is the idea for a epic poem where an evil dictator rules over a land inhabited by demigods. Everyone around me thought the style was similar to James Cameron's Avatar. I kind of agree with them. This is especially seen in the earliest blogs. My goal for those was to get an overall story arc within the six entries that were required. I feel that I didn't quite get there, but I had a good start. I discontinued with those entries because I became involved with telling of my everyday living, as well as reflect on the readings for the week.
The readings were a great thing to have because of how much I learned in how to do a journal. I wish we had read entries out of Anne Frank's diary. I have seen the play, but it just would be nice to read what she had going on in her daily life. The best readings were Franz Kafka and John Steinbeck. These styles seemed more relaxed than others.
My goal now is to continue telling of what happened to me, as well as getting the stories I have in my head onto the computer screen. Something that has happened to me was preparing my finals for other classes, and finding a lot of good material to expand on. The best is a story about a night hike from hell, complete with blood and guts. The story is called Natural Scares Inc., and it is going to rock.

Fernando Pessoa, a man of disquiet

Fernando Pessoa is the most interesting writer I have ever read. In the excerpt of his book, The Book of Disquiet, there's a character who seems a little too philosophical for just an assistant book keeper. His philosophical ideas make the reader stop and think about how much the world really is like. He mentions in part 133, that all fighting seems to be just a blind force that is "like murdering with either a knife or murdering with a dagger." You know that the problem is big, but just how big, nobody can tell. In section 263, he had the most interesting topic about Tedium, where your soul is in a kind of void. This is so how my life is right now. My body is in this kind of slump with my soul being out without me. I know it's called Senioritis, but it still feels weird.
He also seems alone most of the time. I guess that if you are alone with your thoughts, then strange thoughts can come about. This made me draw back to when I was working for the summer at my mother's flooring business. There was one week that I really became alone, with no one around to be with. I spent time working on repricing some of our products. This was followed by a lot of HULU.com, YouTube, and reading a lot. The situation was that our estimator had to be out of town for the week, which means that there was no money coming into the place. There were some days where I felt I should just have the store closed until he came back. But I persisted, and found that things got better as soon as he returned.

Mother's Day

Well this Mother's Day was just great. I have never seen my mother be so happy. I unfortunately did not give her any cards or gifts this year. I did not even make her a breakfast of blackened bacon, crusty toast, a droplet of orange juice, and enough eggs to feed a small army. The one nice thing I did do was wish her a "Happy Mother's Day!" That is all she really is looking for. I did get a gift, but it is just a book that I am passing on to my sister, who is a mother. The book is one that I have been reading a little at a time. It's an anthology collection of Irma Bombeck stories. I know in her household she could use a good laugh.
So before I had a chance to give my gift to my sister, I went with my mother and father to a tea place called "Lovejoy's." It is a tea shop and antique store across the street. It was a lovely time. They had little sandwiches, fruit, salad, and petite fours. All with sparkling water infused with pomegranates.
After the lunch, it was time to see the nephews. William was really excited about a special gift all for him, a portable ball pit with a small tunnel to get in and out of. The setup of this structure is like that of a tent, with poles to hold everything in place. The only difference is that there is a flap in the back for the tunnel. Inside the ball pit is where the balls go. He was so excited, he did not even wait for it to be erected. He charged inside as soon as the package was opened. To him, this was the coolest thing to have. He was having so much fun, that his brother Jake wanted to come in. But William would not allow it. The only person allowed inside was his Uncle Ron. So, as soon as dinner became ready, the ball pit moved into the other room. After dinner, Mom, Dad, and I went back home. I'm sure to get something for my mother for next year.

Psychological Headache with Finals

Over this past week, I have been felling very stressed because of all of my finals. I was so stressed by two of them, I started having headaches. The only way to cure them was to actually write. I began writing, and a couple of days later, the stress was relieved by finishing one of the finals. I guess there was a sense of failure, combined with a writer's block, that made me so crazy. So let it be known that the only cure for what ails you is just figure out what is stressing you out and deal with it. I know I have at least one more big final that I have to get through, but if I just write it out, everything will be fine.

Kamau Brathwaite is "Jamaican me crazy"

Kamau's journal excerpt and his poetry offer us a similar writing style, that of a poet who does not stop on the poetry page. His poems offer the reader a native view of how rough it must be in Jamaica. In "Calypso," there is a tension between the field boss and his workers. But the workers get that tension off with a little Calypso music and dancing. "Stone" is about what happens when you try to fight the management. His journal, framed around the time his wife is about to die, is similar to his poetry because of the repetitive pattern of words, phrases in either small or large type, and the sense that almost no narration is taking place. There is a narrative, but only at the beginning and end of each entry. Everything else is just a lot of prose lamenting the future loss of his wife. Why he does not tell his wife that she is going to die, I have no notion of it. I know if my wife was going to die, I would tell her about it. The only clear thing about this situation is he is very sad about what is going to happen to him. This is especially felt when he sees his house flooding with mud as a foreshadowing to his wife's illness.

Letter to God

Dear God,
I have been troubled by something. I am in the stage in my life known as "Senioritis." This means that I do not know what to do with the rest of my life. I do want to do acting, but I missed that opportunity to audition because of my studies. My parents want me to gain some real world experience. This seems a polite way of saying that I must get my fat ass out of the house, and go to work. They seem to push the whole Episcopal church idea, along with Americorps. I decided to apply for Americorps, and now I am in their system. The next step is to apply for one of their listings. I'll get my mother's help for that.
Another thing bothering me is the finals for two of my classes. They require me to write at least fifteen pages of "textbook" material. Essentially I will be writing chapters, or theological studies of specific subjects. The thing that does scare me is trying to find my voice in all of the requirements. The best thing I can hope for is to do my best, and pray that there will be no filler.
In your son Jesus' Name, Amen.

vampires vs. werewolves

Last week in class a discussion was brought up about vampires, and their sex appeal. I thought to myself that vampires were not sexy at all. The just happen to be young because they feed on young blood. If a vampire were to not feed for awhile, then they might get a little old. Case in point, look at "Dracula." He became young when he fed on the blood of Johnathan Harker. On the contrary, a werewolf is quite a better beast for sex appeal. He does not have to stay out all night drinking blood. The only time he goes out at night is when there is a full moon. So, we already have a better person for sex appeal because he never has to worry about trying to stay young.
Another thing about last week was about vampire stories. I think I might bring in my vampire story, just to see if anyone likes it. I remember doing it for the "Writers on Writing" class, the week Dodie Bellamy was coming. The story was just a secret attack on her work because I wanted a little more blood sucking, and a little less cock sucking.

Rebuilding Together Peninsula

Sorry if I have not been posting anything for a while, but I've been busy, and procrastination has got me in its clutches. So anyway, on Saturday April 27th, I participated in Rebuilding Together Peninsula. This is a great program because you help out on someone's house. You help them mostly with construction needs. I myself was painting, lugging around garbage, and setting up the food/ check-in tables. It was a lot of work, but I had fun. I even ran into an old high school chum of mine whom I acted with. He sure grew tall. After the work came the fun. At Oracle park, all of the 8,000 volunteers had a terrific barbecue, catered by "Armadillo Willie's." The activities included the dinner, musical entertainment, a bounce house for the kids, and massage for the parents. The massage was a little rough at some parts. My mother, who also helped run the house site, got a rough massage experience herself. She described it was like an attack from one of the Lions members who she is not on good terms with. The masseuse was moving her hands to the music, which is something you try to avoid in a massage. I was laughing in agreement with her the entire time we went back to the car. I was laughing because I had the same massuse. So, we went back home and liked our wouds from that awful expirience of a massage.

Travel Journals

This week's reading were all about different places in the world, as told by Janet Flanner, Jamaica Kincaid, & Zora Neale Hurston. Each author wrote about a different location. The thing about the places is that I did not get enough about each place. Flanner wrote about her experiences in Paris. In the writings, she did mention briefly about Paris life, but mostly the writings were about the adaptions of Gide for the stage. I wanted more on Paris life, and less on the reviews of Gide's work. Kincaid was a little better. She did talk about New York City life, which was great. I did want more of it, and less of the letters to the editor. The letter was insightful because it offered the reader a glimpse of what an outsider is experiencing. But I just did not care for it. However, the letters were a bit funny on the second reading, especially the one letter to the editor which described, in detail, everything that was grown in a lo9ng run-on sentence. Hurston was the best because it was about a subject that the author knew a lot about. I just didn't want the introductions to each piece. I wanted her own words to tell me of each place because anything else would be just awful.

Stephen King Prompt

Well today I have written out a prompt that was given to me by Stephen King in his book, On Writing. I am surprised at how many pages I have written. I have not written over three pages of fiction in a long time. I am really glad to do it. I decided to do the prompt over a two day period. I wanted to write at least a page and a half on each day. I did with flying colors. The only thing I think might be wrong with it is it is mostly summary, everything is told and not shown, and there is too much back story. Well, I'll let the reader decide it in the end.

Letter to God

Dear God, I know I should be praying more for my enemies, but this is a rather important subject that I must cover. My mother, as you know, is going through a tough time with work right now. I know that you are giving me words to say to her. I just hope that my words are in some way reaching her. My biggest thing I want her to do is just verbally vomit out her frustrations on what is bothering her. It helped me when I was sick to my stomach. In a lot of ways it helped me to get my appetite back on track. I just hope it gets her appetite back on track as well.
Also, as far as praying for my enemies, I was drawn to a table that had Palestinian conflict propaganda. All of the material was pretty well laid out. I was curious about one particular thing. It was a summary of the conflict over the land. It seemed that the land was chosen, not by you, but by followers who felt that this was the place of the holy land of Biblical times. I wonder about if what Bible maps depict, could be inaccurate because of these extremists, who felt that this was the location of the holy land. Is what was once deplicted in the Bible, now just a place in the dust? It could be that the location could have been a place entirely different. It makes me want to read how Your word was written prior to the pilgrimage. If this could be solved, then all problems could be solved, couldn't it?
All of this I pray in Your name, Amen

Story Ideas

A couple of weeks ago, I got a story idea about the guy who takes pictures that last longer. You know the guy. He is the creepy one who stares at couples making out. You tell him the famous phrase, but he shrugs it off. As you are continuing to make out, instantly a flash occurs. You think nothing of it until it happens again. This time you see him sheepishly grinning with a camera in his hand. The thing you do not know, is that this guy is totally insane. He finds people making out, takes their picture, and does something cruel. This man does not just take young couples' pictures at random. He actually finds them through ex-lovers, spouses, and other significant others. He publicly humiliates them if they are cheaters. But for the rest, he puts them all on a wall in his house, and violently masturbates to them. This only gets him exited for the next part. The next part involves the ancient art of voodoo. For the cheaters, before exposing them for their shame, he uses voodoo dolls to "castrate" the males and rape the women. The faithful ones get something just the opposite, they get pleasure. He knows these people because of how the love they share is like a prayer to him. In fact, there is a group that has sacrificial lovemaking to appease him. For this person is none other than a love god with a twist. His name is Evol, love spelled backward. He can truly be your best friend or worst enemy.
Another story idea comes from Stephen King, in his book On Writing: A Memoir Of The Craft. In the book, he suggest to his readers to have a story about what happens when a escaped lunatic comes home to their family. He suggested that the lunatic be a woman, and to write at least three thousand words about it. I might try it just to see how it goes.

Andre Gide reflection

This Frenchman knows a lot it seems about the horrors of Tuberculosis. This is seen in his opening of his book, "The Immoralist." The whole section read like a person revealing to his friends about the horrors of what was happening to him. I can see why, in his journals, he was scared of having a large amount of books being published. Tuberculosis is a scary thing to write about. I know that if I were writing about a sensitive topic, I would try and have my book limited because of what might happen. I would not want word spread around to the wrong people, whatever topic I am covering, because my work might become banned. I might get thrown into the street and killed. The journal entries for this week were a little better to read because the entries felt like the writer was writing a narrative of his daily routine. He mixed it up with prayers to God. I thought that was really bold of him. It made me want to go and write prayers in my prayer book, for those moments that are especially tough.

Dreams on A Friday

Yesterday, Friday, was a day unlike any other. I spent the whole day it seems in dreamland. I awoke in the morning from dreams that seemed too real. I awoke from them in a daze, and went back to sleep. This prompted another round of dreams that seemed like an entire day's worth of events. This as it turns out was only a couple of hours. I decided to have a late breakfast and spent the majority of my time channel surfing. Later, after a small pizza, it was back to dreamland. I got the same feelings as before. This sort of feeling is like a hangover, but no nausea and a light headache. The only real cure to this is making sure that I read something, or get a little exercise. Either is fine, as long as I get better rest.

My Lions Club in Trouble

I am a member of a Lions Club in San Mateo. At this last Thursday's meeting, there seemed to be a lack of enthusiasm for the club's morale. I am the Vice President, and I was leading the meeting. There was especially a lack of enthusiasm from the other Vice President. His name is Lion Bill Arthur. He was not even at the meeting. It was told by club members that he just is too tired of being a Lion. He is the kind of person who feels that nickle & diming people for their spare change is bad. He want to go after the big bucks. Well at this last meeting, we discussed over some huge gains in funds we got from "Legacy Through Giving." It was at this event where we had a silent auction that really brought in funds. But, somehow it didn't seem enough. My mother, the President of our club, wants to do a fundraising co-op with another club, so that we can get better in learning how to do those kinds of events. But before it can be done, our treasurer wants the specifics on how the money is supposed to be split. All of this makes me wonder how I will do as President next year. I want to go and see Bill Arthur to find out what it is about Lions that he wants changed.

The Hunter returns

After it was all over, the Hunter returns to his old camp. He is weary from the fighting that took place just up the trail. Going back to the camp was like going back home for him. He was familiar with all that land. He knew the way because he had been there so many times. As soon as he reached the stockade into the camp, he knew he was home. The only thing that was missing was the rest of the gang. They, of course, had moved on into the higher ground because the fighting was needed there. He did not care. The only reason he went back to that spot was to recharge the batteries a little. He wandered over to the mess hall, an open area that had a couple of nice benches, and sat down. He knew that there still was fighting to do, but he was not about to surrender easily. Just being here was the best thing for him.

John Steinbeck- a man who knows his "Grapes"

This week's readings were very "real" to me. I have read Steinbeck before, but I never really got to know what his process is for his works. I first read his article on migrant workers. In this he describes the conditions for the working poor, who have to go on day by day, and have to travel thousands of miles to get work. He goes into detail of the different farming communities that exist. In The Grapes of Wrath, the scene was of the "Joads" having to get a loaf of bread to feed their families. This is an interesting chapter because, as in the whole book, Steinbeck mannages to give the reader a hidden essay about daily life for a truck stop waitress. The "essay" chapters are interesting because they often fortell what is going to happen to the main characters, either indirectly or directly. I was curious as to why he created these "essay" chapters. This led me to read his journal that he wrote while creating The Grapes of Wrath. I really liked it because he did write about what happened while writing the book. One of the things involved the writing of his other books. He wrote about how important the book needed to be written by certain times. The notes in the back were helpful, but did not need to be so long. Overall, I would definatly pick up his journals just to see if there are any interesting entries of how to write your own masterpiece.

Spring Break report-part 2: Easter Sunday

Well nothing exciting happened to me for the rest of the week. I did visit my two nephews, William & Jake, in Concord on Wednesday. I helped my sister with her housework, as well as wrestling the boys. When William, age 2, went down for his nap, I watched Shutter Island while keeping Jake, age 3 1/2 months, quiet enough to get the proper key points in the story. When the movie was over, William awoke, and the three of us went to get some gardening supplies for my sister's garden. Then we came back to her home to prepare dinner. After dinner was served, I got a call from my dad about the weather becoming bad.
The weather was raining. I happened to have my car at the San Bruno BART station because I thought I would be coming back that way. As it turns out, with the weather the way it was, I got a ride from my sister back home.
So the next day, Thursday, I got my car back, triesd to do a little money exchange at the airport, and ate donut holes and milk at Krispy Kreame before heading back home to develop film I had taken for one of my classes. Friday and Saturday are a blur.
I do remember Saturday night going to a fashion show that my Lions Club was a part of. The fashion show benefits non-profit organizations, and is called Legacy Through Giving.
The most interesting thing happened on Sunday. Easter Sunday to be more specific. On this day, I got to visit my nephews again, as well as see my father's parents, Nana & Daddy Bob. I am really glad to have them still in my life.
The most memorable thing about Easter is that it seems to lead into culinary disasters for my mother. On at least three occasions, she has had such disasters. The first was of Lamb shanks flying across the room. This was because of a faulty table leg that gave out. The shanks flew across the room, and landed in my Papa's, mother's father's, lap. He thought it was so funny. The second disaster happened when I was probably three years old. My mother decided to have Quail. This was a disaster not because of the food flying across the room, but because of a certain three year old's manners in how to properly eat food. He delicately picked up the Quail, placed it in his mouth, and began to rigorously shake his head side to side, making a growling noise in the process. This made the quail juices go flying in all directions. The result was a sound spanking, as well as being sent to his room. But by far, the most remembered culinary disaster happened recently. This was not because of flying or thrashing, but was because of a stomach flu. The perpetrator was William, and it just so happened that he mixed his strawberrys with ranch dip to trigger this disaster. He was calmly waching Wall-E when up the vomit came. This made everyone scatter about in frenzy for paper towels and cleaner. But once was not enough for this stomach. He promptly, half an hour later, came again. The trigger this time was a chocolate bunt cake. The drill was the same. And by his third go round, the smell of Daddy's beer a likely cause, everybody was anxioius to leave. So, needless to say, I have had a great, if not entirely uneventful, Spring Break.

Spring Break Report (halfway point)

Well, I have been having so much fun on my spring break, that I have almost done none of my homework. I started out by taking my car into the Daily City BART station because I was low on my BART ticket, and wanted to drive after class. So after my final class, I left to go home taking Skyline because it was a gorgeous day. I had the windows rolled down, music blaring out of my stereo, and felling really relaxed of the days ahead. I only touched I-280 briefly before going back on surface streets heading home.
The next day was all about working on a project for one of my classes. The project is to create a poem with a box that looks like it. I decided to work on a memory from my summers as a kid. So I took a few pictures of Water Dog Lake, in Belmont, and the area surrounding it because of the Peninsula Jewish Community Center being there. I went to their summer programs to have fun in the Sun.
The next part of my project took me to a place I have not been to in a long time, Memorial Park. Here was the critical part of who I became as a performer. I knew of a way of getting into the park without having to pay for admission. I simply took a turn at Wure Road, and parked at a lot close by another park. Then it was all a matter of hiking to the Homestead campgrounds. I did stop along the way at the watering hole where the creek becomes damed up for swimming. It was here that I remember jumping into the freezing cold water to earn points for prizes at the end of the campout. I did find my way to Homestead, and I knew it the minute I saw it. The whole place looked like it had not been touched in ages. Everything was there that I could remember. There was an open area designated for "Capture The Flag," a section to sleep, tables for cooking/ eating, and a campfire area where the talent shows were held. I, of course, refined my performance skills there. Somehow or another, I became the emcee, performing each title of each act. It was so great seeing everything. I became inspired to write about this for my works.
Sunday was uneventful because I just was doing everyday things. But Monday I decided to go to see the Winchester Mystery House. I had not been there since I was a little boy. The whole time I was there, as a child, I thought I was going to be scared because there was some haunted house thing going on next door. Now as an adult, I apreciated all of the odd things that the house had to offer, such as short rising stairs, doors opening to nowhere, and stairs climing to celings or deadends. Another part that was fun was counting all the stairs as they were climbed. I did this to be sure that what the tour guide's numbers were correct. All in all, I say that I've had a great spring break so far.

Who's Afraid of Virgina Woolf?

Well, if you disagree with her style of writing, you might get her wrath. So, anyway, I did not really get into the readings this week because Virgina Woolf's language is too flowery for me. I became lost really easily. I did not know who was who or what was going on. When it came time to get into the groups, I was for that week unprepared. So, I do what I do best, I just explained how hard it was to read it. I know with some readings, it can be tough for me. I know in my own writing, I am a person who likes to summarize, tell and not show, and just be a short short story writer. Through my professional writing career, I hope to become a better, and more explanatory writer. I might just have to write that god-damned flowery language, just to satisfy the masses.

Fountain dream/ driving analysis

Last night I had the strangest dream. I was dreaming of a beautiful fountain in an elaborate garden. The fountain was the kind that looks like a table top. I was admiring it when the top part of the fountain began moving around wherever I went.

I have been driving around for a week, and so far it has been a blast doing it. Before, I had to wait on parents, public transportation, or even walked to the places I wanted to go to. Not anymore! I can drive there with the greatest of ease. I even notice how much quicker it takes me to get to these different places, taking old routes that I used to walk along. It takes half the time it used too. I am so thrilled.

Jim Harrison- man of the midwest

This weeks readings were for me, very entertaining. I liked the story of a midwestern girl with a South American name. The thing about Harrison's work is that he appears to be a person who has very sensual details. It was hard at first to get into the storyline because of all the background he had to portray. I was reading at first the story of "Dalva" and somehow thought she was involved with a priest. Later on, I thought she was writing a letter to her son, but at the end the son turned into a daughter. What was up with that?
Background is an important detail in novels. Novels allow writers to expand on characters and situations that otherwise are shortened. I saw in his notebooks that it took him over three years to complete his work. He even mentioned that he thought he would go broke because the novel would be bad. He mentioned that his other work felt to him, to be the result of a suicide by a fellow compatriot. So to continue on in writing felt to be brave on his part. This makes me wonder how J.D. Salinger felt about copies of his book "The Catcher in the Rye," in the hands of all of those assassins.
Another thing about the notebooks was his mentioning of a woodpile. It reminded me of a place out on Canada Road that I dubbed woodpile gulch. My father and I were out on Canada Road on the Special Olympics Cycling team. I was traveling up this steep hill. At the top, the two of us rested and drank some water. As we were starting up again, my handlebars slipped over the side and I fell into the ditch. I saw my life flash before my eyes. I remember coming too and my father remarking how I looked cool flipping around like that.
Jim Harrison's "Letters Yesenin" were to me just typical letters from another writer to another writer. I did not take much out of them, other than his advice to up and becoming writers. He said to think of writing projects as like having your hair on fire. You just got to stop that "fire" by putting it out with your words on a page. That is such good advice.

Childhood Innocence

"Where's your gift of childhood innocence?" a young boy asks you one evening. "Is it locked away, never to be let out? How about we play a game where you are the robber, and I am the cop? I will chase you into the party where you will hide the innocence. If I find it, then you must let it out." You agree to do this. And so, you walk into the party. The smells of champagne and helium are in the air. You're wife asks about where you wandered off to. You tell her that you went out for cigarettes, even though you don't smoke. Suddenly, you are drawn to the painting of a bird your wife bought from a flea market. The bird is being fed by the boy you just talked to. "Henry!" your wife yells at you. "What are you doing staring at the painting? Don't you see we have guests here waiting to hear about your trip to San Francisco?" You continue ignoring her as the boy feeding the bird changes into a cop.

Annie Dillard-the weasel lady

This week's readings were a mixture of wonderful, practical, and insightful. The first of Annie's writings I found to be practical because of all of the quotes she managed to find in her life. They did get a bit tedious at times because she did not respond to any of them. The weasel notebook I found to be wonderful because I was getting a story rather than her telling me of everyday things she was doing. I never really knew too much about weasels, but I liked reading about them. They are a cool thing to have around the house in case you have a snake problem. The best part was of her being in contact with a weasel. Finally, the writing notebook was inspiring for any new writer. The advice she gives is to write what you can, and duck out of the way of criticism. I know that I have trouble in my writing, but if I stick to it, I'll get better and get known.

Driving

You know how they say that driving is a privilege, and not a right? Well, I have just gotten my licence, and I do see how driving is a privilege. you have to be aware of your surroundings, know how the car operates, and be cautious. The thing about it is I have always been afraid to drive because of other cars, being in an accident, or pulled over by the cops. Well, now I am a licenced driver, and I am still afraid to drive. My father gave me some good advice on the subject. He said to take things slow. So I will do just that. I know I have a lifetime of driving ahead of me, so there is no reason not to rush things right now.

Charles Simic- an interesting person

Reading the notebook excerpts of Charles Simic was interesting for the most part. He had a way of telling stories that were short and you could easily remember. The one that sticks out is where he had lice in a helmet. It brought to mind an experience I had as a child. I was exposed to lice and had to have my hair cut and shampooed. My sister was also checked, and was found to have no lice. Simic's poems are really bizarre and intriguing. They are bizarre because of the topics covered. I never even knew that Death could have a family. Or even that shoes could be a Gospel of some one's life. That is what is so intriguing about Simic. He is a strange man who can be so beautiful in his writing.

God works in mysterious ways

Last Wednesday, I had a really cool experience. The night before I had called a friend about something, but never got an answer. Well, the next day I happened to be going home earlier than normal because of furlough days. I was on the bus and my friend, who never answered, was on that very bus. So I walked over to him and got my answer. Later on that evening, I attended a Lions meeting with my mother. The meeting featured two speakers; one from South Africa, & the other was a Past District Governor speaking about Canine Companions for Independence. After the meeting, he and I were in the bathroom, and he mentioned about how his Granddaughter loved the country she had gone to on the Lions Youth Exchange program, that she went back there to study art. I was amazed that this sort of thing happened. I became inspired by my mother on the ride home, to write an article for Youth Exchange about it.

Wyoming as seen by Gretel Ehrlich

Gretel Ehrlich really makes you want to go out to Wyoming. The way she describes the settings is wonderful. The details she provides for us as readers makes you want to read her over and over. From the Journals chronicles her existance in the rugged western territory. She was out there to help research her book, and to get a better feel of the land. I especially liked when she went to Key West, Florida to see Ernest Hemmingway's house. She thought that he lived a very privliged lifestyle. He in fact did not. He lived quite the opposite. In both The Solace of Open Spaces & Pinkey, I was more involved with the reading because of the narrative. In the journals, everyting is told and not shown. But in eack short story, I read in more detail about each place. One example is the description she gives about cowboys and how they strive to stay on the land. Even the land is given more desciption. In the Journal, I felt that not much was told about each place. But then again, this was a journal and not a novel.
Also, I wanted to get more in the proper mindset of where this place is. So before I read the readings, I read the short story Brokeback Mountain by Annie Proulx. What Proulx does in Brokeback is make the setting of Wyoming a character, which reflects the main characters feelings. Like when "Enis Del Mar" and "Jack Twist" ended the job for the summer, the weather was overcast reflecting how sad Enis was. So after reading the story I knew what I was getting into.

The Hunter

These kids think that hunting is so easy. Well, I told them that hunting skills were no walk in the park. You need three things to be a good hunter: 1) Silence is Golden, 2) Accuracy is key, and 3) A fool traps himself. So now that they have the rules, these "hunters" practiced each art form. First, they practiced how well they could be silent. This was done easy enough because the professor had worked with them on that part. He taught them that silence was important if you wanted to not let your enemies know where you were. They displayed this by silently walking up to the back of the head hunter, and gave him a wedgie. We all laughed, and the head hunter gave each of us demerits for it. We had to do KP duty for a while. The next important thing about hunting was the accuracy. The other hunters set up target practice for the kids. Each was quite accurate, except for the one who emits water. His hands were rubbery, so he missed the target entirely. For him, he needed only the right environment to have good target practice. This was achieved by simply having him shoot at fish in the water. Finally, the trap setting was a little hard for all of them. They needed a lot of help to achieve this. The problem they had was the camouflage and bait aspect. They did not cover the trap well, and the bait was too far out of reach. I corrected them, and they soon had it. So now the boys were ready for true hunting.

Premonitions

I find myself under the most extreme conditions sometimes. I am a Christian and my belief in God is not so normal. I do believe in God and Jesus, but somehow sin always takes me away. There is something that happened to really pull me back into Christianity. I was 11, and my family and I were returning from a trip to Southern California. We were traveling around Anaheim, when I suddenly felt really weird. So my Mother suggested I lay down for a while. While I was laying down, I thought I was having a near death experience. I was seeing heaven, God, and even Jesus. It was really weird. Anyway, here I am in heaven, and God says to me that I will be in service to him someday. I then wake up and my Dad says that I have been asleep for only an hour. So now I think something big is going to happen to me.
Well, something big is happening to me. I have this unusual premonition power. It is only evident while I am totally unaware of it. I get certain feelings or pains. Like the day before the opening ceremonies of the Winter Olympic games, I was in the SF State bookstore, and I felt this weird depression kick in. I later thought it was just "Senioritis," but then I saw what happened to the Georgian Luge member. And then I knew that something was going to happen to me.

Franz Kafka- a man of unusual taste

After reading the works of Franz Kafka, I can definitely say that this man was a wonderfully brilliant writer. His journals were wonderful, boring, and interesting. They were boring because we got to only see what happened to him on a daily basis in the first of the readings. The "blue books" were wonderful because of all the possible story ideas that we as readers rarely get to see. And the short story was interesting because of all the descriptions.
I really did not care for what happened in his daily life, as seen in his diary between 1917 and 1919. I would have liked to read about his life in a more novel like way. I did want to know what he did in his daily routine, but I also like a little insight as to what he is thinking about in his writings, and the people he works with.
The "blue book" journals were wonderful in their story ideas and daily thoughts about certain characters. I wanted to maybe steal a couple of ideas and write on them. The one thing I disagreed with him about was what he wrote about Homer's The Odyssey. He wrote that the main character was tied up, and had his ears covered when his crew were facing the Sirens. I remember that story a little differently. From what I remember, "Odyssius" was tied up, but did not have his ears covered because he wanted to hear the "seirens" song. Besides that, I really enjoyed those writings.
In reguards to the short story, I did not care too much for it. This is because I was lost in the descriptions of what each character was thinking. I like a story where the descriptions of each character can be told indirectly. This way I can know what is going on without really getting too much involved in what the character is doing.

Dreams analyst

In looking at the readings for this week, I found myself thinking how odd daily life can be. And then I remembered that these were dreams written down by authors over a long period of time. Dreams are after all, just a reflection of what you are going on about in your daily lives. But they do have something interesting to them. The dreams can take on different forms of how things go on about your day. The are even seen sometimes as warnings to some people. I know in my dreams they can be premonitions of things to come. The only thing to do about this is to make sure the thing does not happen.
But getting back to the readings, I found the readings to be bizarrely wonderful so far. I find that I am able to visualise what sort of dream this person is having because the author writes the dream in a fiction sort of way, and not in a chronological order of events. As for the other reading of diary writing, I found it to be a mundane piece that has no relevance to this course. So writers keep diaries secret, big whoop. I think they choose to keep certain writings private because they think the writing is shit. I know that these blogs are. But I am allowing this to be workshopped because this is important to someone who would like to read it someday.

King Tutankhamun exhibit

Last Friday, I decided to go up to the city and see the King Tut exhibit at the de Young museum. I must say that it was quite something looking at all of these ancient artifacts that existed during his ten year reign. His artifacts were not seen until the end of the exhibit. What I did look at before his things were some things his Great Grandparents and in laws owned. They varied between statues, jewelry, and models made from wood. Then came the main event, the personal things of King Tut. I first saw his games and childhood toys/furniture. The treasury was next. His collection could personally rival that of the crown jewels of England. Towards the end their was a case that held the king's liver. An interesting side note was that because of his sudden death, certain items that were meant for another famous person, were given to the boy king. Isn't that just awful that this boy died so suddenly, he had to have things, that were meant for other people, given just to him? Anyway, at the very end were you might be seeing King Tut's coffin there was a projection at the top of the screen, which showed an image of his coffin. I did not actually see his coffin because it's still in Egypt. That and his funeral mask are located in the Valley of the Kings. The Egyptian government was very adamant about how they wanted to keep his coffin and funeral mask in Egypt because they did not want his curse to be placed on anyone. In the end I did enjoy myself, and the exhibit was made even more special with an audio tour by Omar Sherif.
An interesting thing about the curse is that it can be explained through science. His death, for example, was caused by a badly infected tooth. And as for the curse, when the archaeologists found him, they were not properly sanitized, so they got an ancient mold inside them.

New School Semester, my final one

Well blog fans, I am back from a lengthy three month hiatus. The last post was about finding out how my characters were going to do what they did in their lives. Now, I am giving you what goes on in my daily life. For the past week, my life has been filled with time in classes. I am currently taking at least four classes. This is a lot for me, and I know I can do it.

This past Monday, I found myself in two classes almost back to back. The only break I have is 15 minutes. The interesting thing is what to do within those 15 minutes. This is spent going from a high spot on the fourth floor, to the ground floor, in the Humanities building. This is no easy task, I assure you. The only thing stopping up this, is all of the students who have to use the grand staircase. But lucky for me, I did not have that problem that day. The only thing I had to worry about was what to do for a time filler. This was done by reading for pleasure. I had twice the time filler that day because I spent my morning also looking to find a way to fill up my day. I had to go and see a counselor about something, so I decided to catch the early bird and see my counselor at the earliest convenience. So after two classes, I went home glad that my first day was over.

Tuesday, was a day that was filled with nothing but the Futurama movies. I was watching the series because of the ten year millennium thing. Can you believe it's been ten years since we thought the end of the world was going to happen? So anyway, I was watching the movies, again as a time filler thing, because I had a night class. So I went later that night to my night class. The cool thing was I got to ride on BART after class in a route that I have not had in a while. When I was first going to San Francisco State University, I would often find myself first going backwards, then forwards because the train went up to the airport, then onward to San Bruno. This was always a big high for me going over the cars on 101. I really liked it.

Wednesday found me in a similar situation for I will now be making a hobby of what to do with two hours or so in the afternoon after a rigorous Bible study. This group, of which I am now a part, is a Christian Students group. I have been meaning to join them for a while now, but my class schedule was a bit off for me to be a part of their group. So now I am a part of their group studying the book of Philippians. This is just great. So after a pleasure reading time filler, I was off to a class that shares two days to take place in the week.

For Thursday, it was the biggest most eventful class, I have ever pursued. This was a return to a class that I once was waitlisted, but dropped out for personal reasons. This instructor would be my most intense, and final instructor that I will ever have the pleasure of knowing. His style is a bit rough, but with persistence, I know I can do well.

The three day weekend I had was spent doing all of my assignments, and getting my car registered. My assignments found me writing poetry about trees, a short story of a woman and her dog, highlighting key passages, and filling out necessary paperwork for graduation.

All of this brings be back to what I did for the past two days. In the past two days, I have pretty much done what I did last week, with one or two exceptions. For one thing, my first Monday class featured the all important workshops. For today, I have been going around San Francisco getting the necessities. I have also met with some of my Professors about assignments, and written in you, blog, for which I hope my writing can improve.

One final note. The place where I had to get a course reader for one of my classes I have had some feelings about for some time. I have had some feelings about this place because it always seemed a long walk for me. I found myself going to this copy place to get the course reader for a class I was taking. I was angry because I did not have a license at the time and had to walk to a lot of places. This place in particular I found was a really long walk. I had to go there on two separate occasions. The first time was to find out the reader was not available. The second time to actually pick it up. Well a few years later, I find that I have to go to that same goddamn place again to get a course reader. But now I had the upper hand. Instead of making myself walk all that long way just to get the course reader, I decided to go onto Google maps and see what they had to say. Well to my surprise, they had a solution that took half of the time it would normally take to get there. I was so thrilled. So knowing that I had the knowledge of what to do, I did it and kicked myself for not doing it sooner. That's all for now blog fans. Read you later!