#also spent like 20 min trying to get the dash back to normal
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may reenter my rp era ...
#goin to update my theme / muse doc / etc. nd see how i'm feelin <3#also spent like 20 min trying to get the dash back to normal#that was hell#why was it literally tw*tter for web 😭#idek if anyone is here anymore like i'm probs talkin to crickets
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here's a little something i’m making for all of you because you deserve it ♥️ if you don’t have a valentine you have all of these babies and me as well ♥️ i love you all so much, stay safe and take care of yourselves! i'm sorry if this is too short to be a holiday special :')
i'll add a read more thing later im sorry for clogging up ur dash
Dwight Fairfield
poor boy he'd be so nervous
dwight's really good at keeping track of the days in the fog, so he'd have extra time to prepare
he just wants to make you happy : )!!
he'll nervously tug at your sleeve at the campfire. go along with it and follow him blease
after near 20 minutes of walking in the woods you were about to ask where you're going, but before the words slip out of your mouth you see what he's been leading you to
a couple dark vines are concealing a small space, with a little creek running through the middle. the trees loomed over it, much taller than some of the other trees. crows were settled on some branches but flew away when you stepped in. the whole area was littered with flowers that dwight had planted himself, with the help of claudette. he wanted to make the perfect spot just for you.
"do you like it?"
what a stupid question. of course you like it. smh ❤
theoretically you can both sit there for hours, but trials get in the way. either way, it's perfect. he's perfect.
although he wasn't expecting anything from you it was a pleasant surprise when you whipped out a little gift. you'd gotten meg to help you force convince danny to let her borrow his camera, so she could take pictures of you both. of course, dwight didn't know this
meg was a surprisingly good photographer. the photos weren't blurry and they would make a good gift even in the normal world.
when you gave them to him he teared up and spent the next half hour quickly stuttering out how much he loves and appreciates you : )
Meg Thomas
oh boy
meg is a lil bundle of energy
you'll just be chilling at the campfire, maybe lounging around talking to nancy or jeff, when meg just nyooms in and grabs your hand. you squeak and she just starts zooming away, dragging you along with her.
meg tends to keep her offerings in a secluded place (a hollow tree trunk) because sometimes the other survivors tend to get the offerings mixed up. unfortunately, meg found this specific tree while on a run. she looked like she was having the time of her life, her braids flying behind her. she was fast.
she finally stopped and you could have a well deserved break. but that break was unfortunately cut short, because meg only stopped to pick up a small photo, before she burst back into a run.
when you got back to the campfire, she barely looked phased. you were panting, trying to catch your breath, and she looked relatively calm. she slipped the photo into the fire and then skipped off to the woods with you, to avoid passing out in front of the others.
when you woke up, the both of you were in the ormond resort. the entity had accepted the offer. you didn't even want to ask how she'd gotten the legion to stay out of their realm for you two
neither of you were dressed properly, but like almost everything in the fog, the temperature was fake.
which led to the most obvious situation
snowball fight!
she's so extra with it. she'll build a whole fort while you're pelting her with snowballs, paying no mind to it.
she makes it so big that you could hide in her fort and attack her with snowballs from the inside.
eventually, the girl gets worn out. it takes a while. but she still wants to keep going, so you two make snow angels with connected wings.
after you're both too tired to do anything else, you're pulled back to the campfire, grinning and tired
Claudette Morel
sweet baby. absolute sweetie.
smol lil claudette just pokes you on the arm, gesturing for you to follow her.
of course, you do. don't deny her she's babey
she's taking you down a long homemade path that you've never seen before. maybe because claudette spent hours between trials clearing it out just for this day, and finished it before she came to get you.
Jake Park
he didn't really have big plans for valentines day. dwight reminded him and he kinda just shrugged it off
he probably won't ever have a huge celebration for valentines day, it's not his style. he's a chill guy.
he'll probably sit with you in a clearing near the forest, holding his arm out for the crows to perch on, and showing you how to do that as well
he'll want to just lounge around, comfy day. you wanna get up? nah. comfy day. not today amigo.
consider yourself extremely special if he gives you a bouquet. it's rare, but he might!
the crows will dance around and bob their heads when you cuddle. they don't know what they're doing but let's just say they support your relationship. he totally didn't train them to do that.
he cares, kind of. he knows it's a day to be sappy but again, not really his style. he'll take the opportunity for a bit of affection though.
Nea Karlsson
nea has been planning this for a while, lets say.
every trial that you go in without her is an opportunity! she's been making a detailed mural with the few spray paints she's been allowed by the entity.
she's sure you'll be proud of her. and to top it all off, she finished just in time for valentines day. what a coincidence!
after you get back from a surprisingly laid back trial, you don't get a chance to rest before nea's smiling and telling you to follow her. you complain for a moment, but gave in anyway. you always do
she jumps over a couple logs and puddles, before coming across a couple lone brick walls. they look like nothing at first, but then you walk around to the other side.
nea's smirking as you're in awe, looking at her and then the mural.
"it's beautiful," you whisper, eyes shining. "but not more beautiful than you."
she does a complete double take at the cheesy generic line. she crosses her arms, looking away. but you can see the smile that she was trying to hide. she looked so pretty when she smiled.
Laurie Strode
she'll organize a little something :)
if you can imagine a party room, maybe one similar to one you'd see at a young kids birthday party, that's the kind of thing she'd set up.
it's just a comforting and safe scene, so she thought it'd be best
she collected a lot of offerings for this, please like it : (
she would've baked something but there's no ingredients in the fog besides corn
if you want corn though go for it
it has the vibes of one of those really good cookies from Walmart or something (okay i googled it they're called lofthouse cookies)
in the end she just wants a comfy safe environment,, it's so nice compared to the brutal things that happen in trials
Ace Visconti
do not let this man near flowers or anything of the sort. he'll take a bunch and
so cheesy
he'll take some random thing off the ground that looks cool (like a dandelion or a shiny rock) and say it's a luck charm, and pass it to you.
ace, handing you a flower tied to a funky rock with a piece of grass: happy valentines day :)
he'll set up a whole area beside the campfire for you two and if anyone steps into it he'll kick them out
if he finds a heart shaped rock he'll riot and get nea to spray paint it red. ultimate luck charm. because it's a reminder of him.
Feng Min
small little gamer :)
i'm convinced feng will take you on a romantic trip to taunt killers
myers is tired of it. susie thinks you guys are cute. evan is not having a good time. sally is supporting you. it's chaos
feng is just holding your hand, walking you around the autohaven wreckers. philip is cloaked and is too scared to be hit in the face with a pallet to uncloak.
feng is really short and she's climbing on things to be taller than you, just for the fun of it.
piggy back rides!! she loves piggy back rides. yeehaw
pick her up and carry her around? heart eyes motherfucker
Quentin Smith
aw what a cutie
he forgot about valentines day, but no fear! you didn't
after you guys swim he'll act like he's really tired so that he can rest his head on your lap. you know he's lying cause he keeps silently laughing as if he's a genius sneaky trickster
when you just happily say happy valentines day he's like 😳
he panics
just reassure him it's fine and you did something!
he's still upset about forgetting, but he's quickly distracted by you.
you've found a secluded spot in the woods, the only disturbance being the occasional core popping in to see what's up
you set up a blanket fort. you'd burned quite a few offerings for this. it worked out better than you expected it to, and you were pretty happy with it overall.
you spent as much time there as you could before being pulled into a trial
the time spent together made up for the offerings burned
Kate Denson
both of you set it up together
you stayed at the campfire, nothing crazy
kate played her guitar, and she showed you how to play a song or two (assuming you don't know how to already)
if you want to sing you are welcome to :)
kate will encourage you all the way even if you sound like nails on a chalkboard
she'll make anyone who comments negatively on your voice have a time out. no questions asked. they're older than her? don't care time out.
it's just,, nice and cozy,, and uninterrupted by trials
Jeff Johansen
big cuddly man!
like nea he'll also do something art related!
but it'll still be unique of course
instead of a mural, he'd do a small-ish but still breathtaking painting.
the rest of your day would be spent just chillin. if you're unlucky enough to be ripped into a trial, he'll bring a toolbox to get out as soon as possible. yknow. for more chillin.
Jane Romero
she'd be pretty extra
again, meg would force convince danny to let her use her camera. she'd have a big photoshoot, as best as she can with the limited resources. claudette would set up a scene, and you and jane would pose for the pictures
they turned out really good!
jane keeps them in a secure place and she won't tell you where if you say anything negative about how you looked. not risking it babe!
(phew finally done! i'm super sorry i was a couple survivors short, i didn't wanna burn myself out. if you like it please reblog? i made this in less than 24 hours to surprise you guys. i hope this is a decent special!)
#the killers fear meg#she is too powerful#that took so long#i'm sorry guyssss it's not the best but i worked hard on it#i'll do the killers another day#dbd survivors#my writing
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Congratulations, DOM! You’ve been accepted for the role of HELENUS. Admin Jen: You have no idea how overjoyed we were to finally receive an application for Helenus, and Dom, you completely blew our expectations out of the water! I thoroughly enjoyed reading about what drew you towards Hugo; your passion really shone through and to see that it wasn’t directed solely towards him but towards so many other characters, it left me so thrilled to see all that your portrayal has to offer -- and it surely didn’t disappoint. The interview was fantastic, but I have to admit, it was the plots that had me sold on your Hugo. They were so intricate and well thought-out and I was living for the duality you explored in Hugo’s relationships with Roman and Halcyon. Trust me when I say that I cannot wait to see it all come to life on the dash! Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.
WELCOME TO THE MOB.
Out of Character
Alias | Dom
Age | 20
Preferred Pronouns | she/her/hers babey!
Activity Level | I mean, I go to college, and I may need a 20 min allowance to freak out over responses, but I’m consistent and enthusiastic.
Timezone | EST
In Character
Character | Helenus / Hugo Kim
What drew you to this character? | Honestly it was the relationship between him and Halcyon, who I know is Hippolyta from a Midsummer’s Night Dream, but struck me - within the context of Troilus and Cressida - reminded me the Greek’s relationship with Helen. This kind of fascination by people towards another person they confuse with the sublime is kind of incredible, and always misunderstanding, and generally tragic. Like Pierre, with Natasha, in War & Peace. I think Anne Carson does the most justice towards characters like Helen by acknowledging them as a characters that cannot be acknowledged - she is too large for those around her, and too large for the text itself (and its author) to understand her completely. For all her brightness, she is shrouded by accidental but inevitable misreading. I’d like to work with that misreading, and I think it would be fun to play with being confused like that.
That being said, I’m also interested in his relationship with Roman Montague. Who if Hippolyta is a sun to Helenus, then Romeo must be a warm spot at home. There exists a potential for a type of softness between them that I think could catalyze a really interesting stronghold for both of them.
I’ve read Troilus and Cressida of course, and all I remember of Helenus was his dual occupation as a priest in a soldier’s camp. He’s barely mentioned or active in the text - He has one line I think, against Troilus in their debate about returning Helen or not, and one off-hand description of him by Panderus in a line-up of men Cressida asks about. He’s not a soldier, and is not expected to fight, nor does Paris (?) arm him I think. The text is never kind to him. It reminds us time and time again that Helenus is not a soldier, and because of that, a coward. I don’t think anyone was supposed to be sympathetic to him until I read your adaptation of him. The line Troilus snipes at him with: “You are but dreams and slumbers, Brother Priest” takes on a much more poignant meaning with Diverona’s new addition of gentleness. It’s not so much an insult, but a reason why Helenus probably won’t last long in this war, the kind person he is now he’ll wake up from someday, him not much more than dream.
Also don’t get me started on debt, and brothers, and goodliness in the face of extreme acts of violence by your own hands.
Excited to work with Easton - Edmund is one of my favorite characters from Shakespeare’s list, and seems like another fun personality to work with. Damned brothers. Maybe Easton’s got some points.
What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? |
Where do you see this character developing, and what kind of actions would you have them take to get there? 3 future plot ideas would be preferable.
IT WILL COME BACK:
Even since his brother’s death, he’s been spinning the story. It wasn’t him who pulled the trigger, but the thug. His father, the only other person alive who knows, has retreated into himself. And the Capulets’ are more than ready to help their pastor keep his secret - assigning Albert’s death to a nameless criminal, and keeping the theft of Hugo’s store an uncomplicated, and more importantly, anonymous tragedy. This way Hugo accumulates pathos and stays out of jail. But one day, his father drinking, a slip of the tongue from one of the higher ups - and all of Verona knows the pastor they’ve trusted is guilty of fratricide. It suddenly comes to light that Hugo is Cain, not Abel, and if Hugo can’t even be his brother’s keeper, how can he possibly hope to keep the faith of his congregation?
HACYLON AND ON AND ON:
Hugo admits to himself he has feelings for Roman, the Montague. But with every favor Hacylon asks of him, it cleaves him further and further from his fair-hearted love. If Halcyon is a woman written large, something centric, around which people can’t help but rotate around like she’s the North Star, then though what she asks feels immoral, she’s what must redeem Hugo. She’s what reminds him he belongs in the shadows, not lit by the sweet torch of Roman’s look. Hugo had stumbled what must be miracles, Roman and Halcyon independently, and finds himself too impure in the aftermath. However, when Halcyon asks him to do something that will bring Hugo to the brink of a life already full of wickedness, will he stay his hand?
GO WITH GOD:
Hugo has become comfortable in his dual role as pastor and soldier. Days he can openly denounce what he does in secret at night. Sure, a few people know his secret, like his brothers in arms, and most of the upper forces of the Capulets, but he is working off his debt and soon he’ll be free to try a true repentance. All he’s doing now he can tip the scales back from again, with hard work and prayer for the rest of his life not spent in the Capulet’s debt. He is working off his brother’s labor, and what’s more biblical than that? Then one day the Capulets strongly urge Hugo to start writing into his sermons a Capulet bent, turning his services from neutral arguments for peace to a more propagandistic tint. If preaching and helping others is all that Hugo has left, then what will he offer to not sacrifice that respite?
Some other plot ideas include him getting addicted to Measure by Measure fighting, him overhearing some plot at To Tame a Soup, and Hugo maybe starting his own web of debts, starting with Lawrence.
Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | Of course. If it makes sense.
In Depth
Please choose between the interview or the para sample (or both, if you like!)
In-Character Interview: The following questions must be answered in-character, and in para form (quotations, actions written out if applicable, etc). There is no minimum or maximum limit for your response - simply answer as you would if you were playing the character.
What is your favorite place in Verona? |
If this weren’t a Capulet interview, if this weren’t the first of many an annual interview gauging his psychological state as a soldier, Hugo would have grinned, leaned in close, and joked ‘Measure by Measure.’ He’d only be half-joking of course, and the uncertainty of whether he was telling the truth or not would add the perfect amount of charming deviance to make his conversational partner - probably from his congregation - chuckle nervously and then louder. They’d hit his arm with the same coquettish flavor, and say something about youth pastors being too agreeable nowadays, and they remember when priests were people to be scared of. Not him. God turns the other cheek. And so do the guys getting knocked out in the ring. Haha, joking.
No, but this wasn’t a question from a parishioner, and was an official Capulet interview, so Hugo unfolded his hands with a nervous, you-got-me shrug. “To Tame A Soup. Well - maybe that comes as a surprise. I could’ve said the church.”
He could’ve said the restaurant. A few years ago he would’ve. He loved the wall the lights splattered onto the floor in little bushels of pale, creamy yellow like somewhere to fall asleep in. They’d let cats come in and sleep in the sun pockets, to the shock of some customers. Splattered like his mother onto the floor. He’d scrubbed out the blood, not his father, not the Capulets. He’d seen the white turn pink when the light hit in the morning.
“But what can I say? I love my church as well. I’m as predictable as I seem. I like helping people. Maybe To Tame A Soup was the wrong thing to say. I know it’s in Montague territory, but it’s a good place set up to help the good people of Verona in need. That’s something above territory. It’s esteemed.”
What does your typical day look like?
Hugo nods his head back and forth, like the day’s hypotheticals are rolling out in front of him so he can best read it off. “Well first I have to open the restaurant, which means counting the safe to figure out how much money is in the restaurant before first shifts, filling the register, making first deposit…prep work for breakfast and lunch, all the heavy-duty cleaning, setting up tables — Dad’s still the owner, of course, but after the robbery it’s just easier for me to open, as long as I’m home from school anyways.
“Unless it’s Sunday, which means I’m at church by six to prepare for a seven thirty service and I’ll be there the whole day.
“Otherwise the restaurant keeps me pretty busy… Inventory, cash control, food cost analysis, etc. And in the minutes I can squirrel away to myself, I’m still usually drafting sermons for the next week.” Hugo wonders if his interviewer can hear the envy drifting into his voice. His life sounds boring, normal. He finds himself salivating over what he’s invented for himself, wants to continue listing things that don’t involve blood, or debts, debts paid off by blood. None of what he’s saying is untrue, it’s just separate, distinct. Good, honest work. He takes a breath back to composure.
“I donate whatever time I can but —” Hugo bites his lip. “My day isn’t really my own. I’m mostly where I’m sent.” Nights he doesn’t sleep well. He paces. He cracks his knuckles in a distracted, painful way. Goes out and wanders the streets, watches people silhouette their windows. Catalogues the city into dangers.
“Which is a blessing in and of its own, I suppose. Routine is just another word for complacency. Or so I’ve been told. And in a grander sense, the day is a duty I’m happy to serve.”
What has been your biggest mistake thus far?
Oh religion and its capacities for accountability. Guilt. On a more realistic, fundamental level, maybe the mistake had been going away to seminary school. Straying his eye away from his brother. Letting one, two, three years go by with not a single word traded between them. The egotism, the pride of turning to God by turning his back on his family. If he wasn’t being punished, then…maybe it had been thinking any of them, even his family, could escape the conflict that had consumed even the best hidden corners of Verona like air. More literally, if he hadn’t fallen asleep that night, lulled into a demonstrably false sense of safety. He doesn’t blame Albert, victim of a system —
Hugo blinks out of it, shifting in his seat. He looks over his interviewer again. “Biggest mistake. Yes. Hm. I find myself failing on the pulpit. People are scared. And unforgiving. Without remorse, this city’s come to gorging on itself. I think I’ve slipped into preaching — I don’t mean to lecture you — but there’s no room for forgiveness when there’s no impetus to feel remorse for the enemy blood that’s been spilled. I’m not sure how to help Verona see itself as a city of brothers and sisters again. I feel —even worse, I see — the consequences of that failure every day.”
What has been the most difficult task asked of you?
Hugo catches himself, faltered and recovered in an instant. He should know better. The questions seem routine, and he knows he knows how to keep it together.
“I guess it would depend on what we define as something capable of asking. Who asked what of me? God? My brother? The gun, that had the trigger? My mother? Did she ask of me, in heaven? You of course know what happened. I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable, I’m just trying to understand the question.” Halcyon?
Keep it general. Keep it a parable. Lessons of moral inequality are never unexpected from him, and seem to put people at ease.
“Verona asks me to walk a difficult path every day. And Verona asks we go nowhere for help. The city has built itself so that no one leaves the same way they came in. I don’t know if that’s the most difficult thing asked of me - or of you - but it’s the most prominent.”
What are your thoughts on the war between the Capulets and the Montagues?
A soft smile. Hugo thinks about Halcyon, and from her lips sweet as antifreeze, new marching orders. “Of course any endorsement of war would be immoral. Blood waters tragedy. That’s not saying anything new.” It hits him that a smile might not have been appropriate.
“But I don’t think it’s traitorous to admit either. I’m loyal to the Capulets, that’s never been in question. Leaders who discourage complicated emotion towards violence in their name should employ animals, loyal only to violence, not men. The Capulets have given me the gift of loyalty by accepting me into their ranks ..no matter the reason.. and that alone cements my allegiance, even if I don’t always agree with…all this.”
“War, more than anything, is a set of volatile conditions.” Hugo focuses on his hands, moving them in a haphazard pattern, an airplane crash. “I’m realistic enough, neutral enough — and I guess some might mistake that for ambivalence, but — I’m realistic enough to question who of us will survive it, especially those of us small enough our stepping on will go unnoticed. Little ants in the atomic blast. I’m trying to say, the flock, especially, is who I’m worried about, not so much the lions laying down with them. Even me.” He smiles again.
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Saturday, June 16, 2018
post #159
main points:
- corgi con
- dim sum with jwoos, sam and michael
- boba tea at teaspoon
- lombard street
- uber home
- door dash + the office
- chilling at home
today i:
- woke up at 8:30am ish. chilled in bed for a bit and then made a pb&j sandwich
- got ready to head to sf. helped my airbnb host a bit with a tesla order. took an uber express pool to ocean beach in sf for corgi con. it was like an hour ride but it was only $6 o_o i was surprised
i got there around 11am and spent about an hour looking at ALLLLLL THE CORGIS. SOOOO CUTE. i took a bunch of slow mo video on my phone, i’m hyped to put together a video of it tomorrow
they also had corgi ninja warrior. basically an obstacle course. we watched 10 or so corgis run through the track. it was pretty entertaining because most of them weren’t trained, or were trained enough to follow a treat. it was soo cute
- met up with jwoos around 1pm. he also brought his friend michael and we tried to get a quick snack cause all of us were hungry. but the deli and grocery store near the beach had really long lines cause of the event. there were like at least a thousand people on the beach. i think... but yeah we wanted a snack and then go back to the beach to see the doggos cause jwoos and michael hadn’t seen it yet.
side note, my eyes were also kind of burning. i forgot my sunglasses in my other backpack >.> and i had no hat ugh
also sam came along, which was a nice surprise. she just moved to sf two weeks ago and won’t start work for another week or so. the four of us met up, then walked back to the beach. we decided to eat afterwards, cause corgi con ended at 2pm and by the time we’d eat, it’d be over
so we went to the beach and wandered around. the fashion show/race events had already finished :/ so we just kind of wandered around on the beach and saw people’s corgis
- around 2pm we walked a couple blocks and got dim sum at feng ze yuan. the wait was about 15 minutes so we chilled and then went inside. we ordered a lot of food and it was awesome. we were sooo hungry so it was very filling
- we tried to get boba at some place called purple kow since it was close by. but the line was too long. so we decided to go to teaspoon, which was on the east side of SF. but we figured we might as well go there and then stop by lombard street. jwoos, sam and i ubered there. michael parted ways to go to moma i think to meet up with some of his other friends
- we got to teaspoon after like 20-30 minutes of driving. driving in sf takes forever... anywho we got there, i charged my phone, and we got some boba. it was pretty good. my phone was low on battery cause i spent all morning recording corgis on my camera, so i guess that usage drains battery...?
anywho, we walked like 10 minutes to lombard street, then took some pics and walked down the iconic zig zag. it was p whack
we walked a couple blocks down and then we decided to go home. idk why but we were pretty exhausted. and it was like 4:55pm or something. i guess it’s just daunting to try to plan stuff here cause everything’s so far apart. and the sun’s also shining on us so maybe that makes us tired. i feel like we’d have more energy in NYC
- sam took an uber home. jwoos and i chilled in a public library for a bit. we went there cause i needed to piss SO badly... i think the boba triggered something and i just had to piss. we decided to uber from sf to my place, and then jwoos would uber from my place back to his place (in redwood). he saved about $10 by doing this two legged trip instead of taking a direct uber from sf to redwood
- we ubered for like an hour... from 5:30 to 6:30pm. it was such a long car ride. eventually we got back to my place, then jwoos ubered home
i ordered chipotle again from door dash and then went to take a shower. it was nice cleaning off all the remaining sand from my lower body
i watched two more episodes of the office S3E22 and S3E23. it was the season finale and omg i love this part of the show. jim comes back from an interview with corporate and interrupts pam’s interview to ask her out on a date. ugh so much feeeeeels
i also briefly met our third roommate, karl, who’s also gonna be working at the same company for the summer
so yeah... that’s what i did for the past hour (one normal 20 min episode then a 40 min episode for the finale)
- now i’m blogging yesterday’s post and today’s post
i think i’m gonna play some fortnite and then sleep. it’s 10:21pm
i am kind of tired tho. like it’s hard for me to keep my eyes open rn
idk
it was a chill night
the end
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time management tips
in connection to this post on how to manage two or more trainee muses, i thought i would just post up some of the things i do for joshua and yuta. i will try to keep this short and to the point, and remind everyone this is my own personal way of doing this -- and it will not work for everyone. its just some things that help me.
prioritising: my system for my trainees is,
event, replies: because someone else is waiting for me on this event, they are prioritised, and if anyone follows me enough, they will notice i will usually do them asap. if i have 20 mins right before sleep, i will reply to the event post. since most events are four post threads, once my two are done, i treat it like a normal reply from then on.
trainee, replies: because these are how my muse progresses. they gather debut pts, trainee pts and the sooner my muse is debut ready, then i know i have done everything in my power and now it’s just helping others get debut ready and waiting for the chances. to help during the last few weeks with uni exams and assignments all being due, it was hard to keep track of everything, and i made this, on sheets, to help keep tracked and focused.
( when it comes to two trainees, i prioritise joshua over yuta at the moment. because yuta is debut ready, he has his mandatory achievements and his 50 pts. joshua is not yet, and its my goal on him to get him there. decide a goal for a muse, and it’ll help you. it lets you work out what matters more and put your energy to it. )
other, replies: this is usually done on a system of, ‘i want to get # of replies done today, so i will do the longest owing first, and then one i really want to do as my motivation.’ sometimes if i don’t have time, it will be done by muse. during the last two months, i have been busy with classes, so it was by muse more than what was longest owing.
event, solos: because these are point related, they take a little more time than a reply, but once they are done. it’s a one off thing, these are done by muse level. if i have muse for a solo, i will do it. i generally try to do them as soon as possible. my muse is highest right after an event is mentioned, because i’m excited to get it done.
like always, there is shifting and changing. i tell trainees if they need a reply, to just come tell me and i will move it right up the top and do it first -- even if ive done my two for the week, i will do it. if someone is doing an event with me, and they will be busy for the last two weeks before it ends, them telling me that means i will prioritise it to help them get it done quickly. communication is very useful if you ever need someones help with something.
time management:
during this semester, most of my other roleplays do their activity checks on sunday/saturday. rookies does theirs wednesday. my classes were wednesday/thursday during the week. i had to study for classes every week, i’m taking japanese which was hours of study. for weekly management:
i decided early on that friday would be the day i spent focusing on making sure my activity for the other roleplays would be done. it was my deadline for it every week. if i had not done it, it would be done.
saturday/sunday would be getting rookies activity done, it gave me two days to get trainee replies done, and activity for seungjun. that’s five replies. that was my goal over the weekend.
there were sometimes things that popped up. an assignment due on friday night, so my activity would get pushed back a day. it’s okay to give leeway, it’s okay to not make it to the goal. the best thing to do is not to procrastinate. procrastinating would mean if i left them until wednesday and something came up, i would be x5 more stressed. my goal was sunday evening, so i had still monday and tuesday if i did not make it.
if i did make my goal? i had monday and tuesday, or sometimes even sunday to do any other replies i wanted.
everyone has different schedules, it takes time to figure out what works and what day is best for you. some people are busier on the weekends, some are busier mid week, but making a schedule helps a lot. just don’t beat yourself up if you do not make it! scheduling early means you have time if you do not meet your goal. for daily management:
lists. i love lists. every morning i usually make a list of what i’m doing, for example, today’s list: washing the towels yuta + joshs trainee reply to jongin event seungjun reply reply to rk ims ssu replies + ims every time i cross something off, it means ive accomplished something. i can pat myself on the back and when i get to end of the list, i can decide, do i have energy to do more replies or do i want to lay in bed because my weekend has been busy -- which is why im doing these replies on monday for me. either way, what i needed to do is done.
when i was studying, i always put study first. i would wake up at 8-9am, study until i had everything done. i would focus my study during the weeks. real life was always more important than roleplay. school is my future, roleplay is my hobby.
also taking time for yourself is. i would schedule tuesdays or fridays as my days to relax. a day where i was not obligated to do anything. i had no list besides, ‘wake up’. if i felt like doing something, i would. take care of yourself, thats important too!
being busy:
sometimes you’re busy -- too busy. you don’t have time to do the two trainee replies. it’s okay to do the minimum. in the last 2-3 weeks, i’ve had 2 major assignments due, 2 tests and an exam, my grandmother was sick and she happened to pass. i had family obligations.
i would do the minimum. i did one reply i had muse for on seungjun, i did trainee on yuta and josh. i picked short replies, i picked the ones i wanted to over time owing. if i found myself lacking in time + energy, i would decide, ‘i will only do ac on seungjun and yuta, and trainee on josh.’ if i had less, ‘i will do only one reply one all of them.’ and my final resort would be, ‘ill do text messages to people or sns’. because rookies has this neat rule ‘solos, replies, texts and SNS posts all count as an IC post, however, if texts or SNS posts are your only IC posts for two weeks in a row, you’ll still be cleared.‘
for one week, if i didnt have time, i could post texts or sns.
but there is always a chance to hiatus if you need to. it’s my personal preference, but i do not. it messes with my muse. but it was and is always an option for anyone.
updating points + welcoming newbies:
this is something you need to schedule time for.
for me, i had classes on the day of acceptances and due to timezones, i would not be home until after. i never scheduled to do replies or anything on the days i had classes. but i would do points and welcomes
i plan my trainees points in a spreadsheet, i plan them eval to eval. right now i have yutas and joshs weekly and trainee points decided up until when i have to submit the evals. on my rookies, i plan a week ahead. so when i come home after a long day, i don’t have to sit thinking about it. it’s been decided. i just need to add them.
with trainee, i have a draft in joshs and yutas blogs where i copy and link up the trainee replies as i do them, so i dont have to chase them up later. (this is yutas)
i update and do points systematically -- i start on seungjun, follow and add his points. then i move to josh, follow newbies, submit his points and add his activity. and then i go to yuta. i scroll down the dash, follow and welcome at the same time and then get to the activity post where i unfollow + add ac points and submit yutas trainee.
it can take me a half hour to do all this. then if i have energy, i will decide points for seungjun for the next week or make sure i have trainee for the week. so if i need to contact someone, i will contact them. this means when i plan on saturday, i already know where i am and can work on writing.
using the queue/schedule:
the queue is a neat thing.
if you know you’ll be busy, schedule things. you can actually schedule something to be posted on a day at a time. if you know the next week you’ll be busy, worried about whether you’ll have time, schedule a post for sunday 12pm the weekend before. thats your ac post, its done.
at the moment, i owe maybe 30 replies over all my rk accounts. i will be using the queue to space out everything. i’ll queue the other replies i owe, ones to friends, ones that are not trainees. i’ll do 1-2 a day. it will give me time to catch up.
i have friends who queue their trainee replies as well, the queue tells you what day it will be posted and rookies runs on est. so you could write 7 replies, queue them today, put the other replies first and trainees will be posted in a weeks time and theres your trainee done for the week. do this every sunday, and you’re a week ahead every week, and if something happens, you’re good and have time to sort it out.
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TWO OLD STAGEHANDS REMINISCING
I bought a new device this morning(Black Friday), disrupting my savings to the tune of $278.19; this was NOT a doorbuster bargain, but was their least expensive 'laptop.' This purchase has relieved me of the burden of Google Chrome & brought back Cortana("Hey!"); also I have the use of my WiFi, and can stay in touch with the Amell family(up in those woods). When I ventured out this AM, it was about fifty degrees out; I got a biscut-breakfast at Hardee's, before negotiating my holiday purchase; after bringing my prize back to the room, I sped off to get 4 packs of cig's and some(6 for $1) donut sticks. Hurricane Michael has managed to permanently close down my Harvey's, so it's Family Dollar, Dollar General & Dollar Tree for now; this has increased expenses significantly, while reducing overall quality & variety. I'm sure to think of something else to write about, but for now, I'm sending this along.
Outstanding! Glad to hear from you. I had another episode with another blocked artery. I'm up to three stents now. This happened right after Michael blew through, so I'd been wondering how you were doing. This news is tonic for me.
sorry; I was checking out alternative forms of identification; not sure if this is tonic(because I'm tone-deaf), but I'll dash off something for a three-stenter; keep this up and you'll be setting off metal detectors at airports and courthouses; when you say 'episode' you should elaborate, even if you have to make the shit up; making shit up has become quite presidential lately RE:Hurricane Michael - about 7 PM, my power went out; luckily, between 5 & 6 PM next afternoon, it was restored I opened my drapes for lighting, and sat facing the window until around 12:30 AM, when the worst of it had passed that bitch was loud, and at one point, while still approaching from SW, one sheet of steel roofing blew off our U-shaped building; a shower of sparks as it blew across the parking lot got my full attention did you purchase a copy of "Whose Boat Is This Boat?" it took 30 min's to get this far... updates and such[speaks to the age of the model I was sold @STAPLES] cheese grits on the breakfast menu, but first I'll be needing a shower
Of course we didn't catch the full fury of the storm, but we got plenty of rain and wind, I have several washed out sections of driveway I need to attend to, it's a rough ride down into the valley here. In regards to my ongoing heart troubles, in 2011 I had a blockage of the left anterior descending artery, that was causing great pressure in my chest, felt like an elephant was sitting on me, no heart attack with that event, but the docs implanted my first stent. The heart attack this past April was brought on by blockage of the right coronary artery, I aggravated my heart by over-exerting myself digging my dogs grave. That event was marked by rapid heartbeat, dizziness, sweating, confusion, and pressure radiating out from the left side of my chest. That blockage was remedied by stent number two. The latest episode at the end of October was preceded by a week or so of pressure and mild discomfort in my chest that was remedied by taking a dose of nitro-glycerin. I awoke with that pressure, took a dose, didn't get any relief, I alerted Debbie, took another dose, but by then I was having difficulty breathing and having strong chest pain, Deb called 911 and gave me a third dose of nitro, at that time I was hyperventilating uncontrollably, sweating profusely, and the pain was very intense...I was sure I was about to die. The EMTs arrived, got me in the ambulance, took my blood pressure, and an EKG, drew some blood, analyzed that with the fancy computer analyzer and came back with "Everything looks fine, you don't appear to be having a heart attack." I got to the hospital, had a quiet morning and afternoon, save for the drawing of blood and the checking of blood pressure. Later that night though, I had six more non-heart-attacks. I won't go into all the drama wrapped around that due to my vitals all showing good normal indications. Anyway, I got my third stent early that next morning, after being catheterized and they found another blockage in the right coronary artery that was downstream of the second stent. Phillip, during those six non-heart-attacks I was truly sure I was going to meet the creator. I had told Debbie all those things you tell someone when you think you're dying. But apparently I've either got unfinished business or I'm just getting some extra time here on earth due to my exceedingly good looks, wit, and charm. ;)
good looks, wit & charm aside, since you have unloaded onto DEB all those last minute appurtenances, you should think about what must be/should be said about your time together since recovering from those six downstream pain events[& consider the high dose of TNT necessary for that most recent download]
We're getting ready for our Thanksgiving tomorrow. Lots of cleaning and such. I'll be in and out all day. Got yard-work to do now that the rain has passed. I have a fire going to save electricity, and the added benefit of warm glowing light is helpful. I've got to go buy a used bass guitar in a little while. I'm snagging parts off of it to make a cigar box bass guitar for Patti (Tuck) Tuckwiler's brother's Christmas gift. I'd already had my oatmeal & blueberries along with a patty of turkey sausage and a slice of toast. I let this guy named Possum hunt on our property, he gave me a slab of backstrap as thanks for hunting privileges. I'm thinking about having a backstrap on a yeast roll for lunch.
shower complete backstrap a la antlered-buck, I'm assuming had some online interaction w/TUCK[doubt she will remember] will your son attend tomorrow's feed? you sound pretty busy, so I'll catch up w/U later
oversized notebook w/no disk player[complicating printer connection]
trak-pad offset too far to left of center[due to hard drive's location to the right of it]; I keep right-clicking when I want to left-click I'm running down my battery for the first time today[not sure whether these rechargeables benefit from 'training'] still 'customizing' my task bar/I can use my 'task view' to 'see' what's down there[and access w/a click] tomorrow will be a 'shopping day' as I'm out of grits limerick is kinda fun most forms are the kind of challenge a writer loves I once wrote a Petrarchian sonnet[back in high school]; it was a love-poem to my girlfriend; in order to fit her 2-syllable name into it, without breaking with meter requirements, I wrote it as G_____[just one syllable]; this came in handy later; I was able to recycle my metric sentiments for future girlfriends. https://www.booksie.com/sent-messages https://en.wikichip.org/w/index.php?title=User:Phillip_DeNise&action=submit
My youngest son works for a company that resolves gift/cash card issues. They're well moneyed, they pay their employees very well, and they feed them like royalty. The company had bought a Thanksgiving feast for 9 people. They spent $1700 on that meal, that was catered by Olive Garden. There was so much food left that all the employees got to take home...like...doggy bags for elephants. My son brought some of that bounty to share with us for our thanksgiving dinner. We also had plenty of food leftover, so much that we sent all the family members home with food for days, and we still have much left in the fridge. I'm having some fettucine alfredo, and yeast rolls for my late lunch. I'd been busy cleaning and straightening from the dinner. Also I'd bought a $50 bass to sacrifice for parts I need to build that cigar-box bass I'd mentioned that I'd disassembled before taking lunch. I'm trying to stay busy and keep moving. Whatever amount of life I have left, I want to use as much as I can, as wisely as I can. After I wrap up this message, I'm going to chop some wood and get a fire started for this evening. It's supposed to be in the low 30s tonight. Cheers! I hope that laptop ain't making you crazy.
fettucine alfredo is one of my all-time-favorites; 1st time I had it, my sis made it at home; she did it so well that I was forever hooked; add smoked chicken breast & sliced, fresh button mushrooms, and... well, Italian ambrosia; plain f.a. is the perfect side for veal marsala do you have to smoke all those cigars for authenticity? ...probably a good way to end up w/John Prine's voice check came yesterday; I'll go to Liquor Locker at 11[as it is usually sans-customers then; less chance of a robbery], to get my wad of ca$h then $625 to motel-boss, $60 + any cash from last mo. goes into savings hidey-hole, leaving about 3 Benjamins for necessities
All the cash that I have to my name is tied up in two guitars and a guitar amplifier. Got them all up on eBay, and Craig's list, hoping some aspiring young rock star has a need...soon. I'm living off the fat of thanksgiving today. Got that fire going, saving on heating bills, and trying to figure out how to get the most cash I can for the HHR. I've got about 1.75 years to go until I can take SS early retirement. I honestly don't know how I'll make it that long, barring a minor miracle or a random act of kindness, but somehow we've manged thus far, I have faith and hope for better days to come. As far as cigar box guitars go, we find the boxes online or at tobacco shops in the area. I haven't had a cigar or cigarette since April when I had the heart attack. I do find myself "wanting" quite often but have taken up gnawing a straw, gum, or a toothpick. The good news is that it's saving me between $10 - $20 a week that I don't have anyway. Yay. Anyhow, I'm going back out to work on the cigar box bass. Peace to you Phillip.
get some sax-reeds for your oral gratification-smoking abatement strategy; a cigar box will make an excellent homemade resonator for a sax-like sample to feed into your reactionary music what changes when you claim your partial & have significantly improved your survival-horizon in the interim?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8buJ2-oD02E https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KDqoTDM7tio https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f2-XU8jm02o where do the best stories come from? editors are famous for taking out the stuff that isn't needed; old men have a similar process occurring among the aging neurons in their noggins; this is giving them a new voice; problem is:if they show their wizened faces, nobody will listen to them; time to employ a mask... a truly vital issue that cannot be ignored Calories are units used to measure heat. Mammals maintain their body temperature by chemically converting starches and sugars back into H2O & CO2. When we burn hydrocarbon fuels, the heat production and the waste products are the same. Plants do just the opposite; they use the H2O & CO2 to store the heat energy in their starches and sugars. Down in Brunswick, there is a company called Hercules; when you pass by their manufacturing plant, you will see tree stumps piled high; they use the waste from lumbering operations to convert the cellulose into gunpowder. The lowly peanut vine, hosts on its root systems, colonies of bacteria[also plants] that 'fix' the nitrogen from the atmosphere, so that it is soluble[thus available to the vines for uptake through those roots]. Rotating to a planting of peanuts can quickly restore the depleted nutrients resulting from cotton or corn plantings. The lint caught up in the air circulating in a cotton mill can cause an explosion if rapidly oxidized. Corn silos can be dangerous concentrations of these plant-stored nitrates as well. As a child, I was the agent providing the fixed nitrogen, when I 'strowed sodie' about the roots in a plot of sweet corn. These crystals of explosive nitrates are chemically produced from nitrogen in the atmosphere. 'Scrubbing' the atmosphere of dangerous concentrations of CO2 can be done in a similar process. If the energy needed to trap the carbon can be 'captured' from sunlight, then the corn plants and explosive fertilizers can be dispensed with. If animal life forms are so much more intelligent than plants, then they should consider taking over all the terraforming functions that they mindlessly perform in their own self-interest. Terraforming distant Mars seems to depend heavily upon creating a breathable atmosphere there; what are our scientists doing about terraforming the Earth, where a kingdom of plant life forms could be better harnessed to accomplish our desired balance of CO2, O2 & N2? Climate change, probably in a warming phase, is increasing our atmospheric H2O; this will eventually reverse the warming trend. In the interim, it seems logical that there are locales on the planet which will benefit from the current trend; these are the places we should be colonizing. Diverting the hordes of humanity, that are fleeing the effects of climate change, into these mostly unsettled areas, not only solves the immigration problems of industrialized nations, but represents a tremendous business opportunity for expanding their struggling economies. These new colonies offer to the 'survivalists' among us, destinations where there is less government and enormous freedom to develop their ideas into social organizations that will promote their own desired political and economic change. No matter where they chose to go, they will still need shoes... need clean drinking water... shelters constructed from available materials[rammed earth domes are remarkably resilient] will immediately be needed; and what will they eat? Business solutions exist for almost every difficulty that such a growing society must soon encounter; why continue looking to charitable organizations and over-burdened governments for the answers?
Everyone now has the capability of being able to hide behind a digital mask on them damn interwebs. Here we have the vastness of mankind's accumulation of knowledge, and people choose to watch cat videos on facebook. There's really not much hope for people in my best estimation, masks or not. I understand why there needs to be a revolution of the mind, heart, and soul. I understand that I'm not the only one that sees this, and I'm glad I'm not alone. One of the problems we face today is the blessing/curse of the internet. People aren't using it so much as a learning tool, but rather as a distraction from all the folly of the times. That said, I'm going off to work on a box.
time actually flies when we are having so much fun; my cheese grits are already at stage one[awaiting the time when I shove the green plastic bowl into the nuke-o-wave, while those frags of kernal-corn soak/soften in cold water], I'm fully dressed & the bed is made; the TV is on & I'm halfway through my first cup of joe and my first cigarette[which I have stubbed out and noticed that the first half was the most generous one]; a great noise is being raised outside my place[some sort of gas-powered welding machine], so staying in bed would not have been a workable alternative; it's rainy out, which is a meteorological condition that could remain in place for three days; I saw that coming, so I visited my nearest Family Dollar yesterday, when it was seventy-two degrees and sunny GATOR used to be right here "gator takes a ride" is my visual offering for today; not sure why the hands call him gator, but getting sent up to the loading bridge is probably a status indicator; I spent a lot of load-in's & load-out's watching and listening from high above the groundlings; I was also rewarded with a department head's position on a national tour for having filed an NLRB charge; that got me to thinking IATSE Local 41 is still on display in cyberspace; do you ever go there? That is where I snatched this image for my ACER. I snuck in using a private browser & made off with my prize. "behindthemain" reminds me of something my Dad used to say; "Once you back your ass up to the teaser, you'll never be able to go back." The age of Rock 'n' Roll was the greatest AGE because they wrote songs about US! How cool is that? What is totally uncool is my mail.com, which has just refused to send this draft until I remove my stolen image; so just imagine a close-up of a stuffed gator-doll perched on an arbor loaded with counterweight which was originally posted by some dude called @behindthemain
Time, at least for me, has become compressed. Three days, maybe a week will go by in the blink of an eye, and there's really not much I can do to slow the procession. The best thing I've found that I can do is create, fabricate, manufacture, and repair. Just trying to stay, to keep from spending too much time in my head. Now there's a dark place. I wouldn't send anyone to spend any time there. One problem is that of psychic transmission on my part. Bad enough I should have to spend time there in my mind, but I was also gifted with the ability to broadcast my thoughts, so, certain lucky "receivers" get to share the "Matt experience". I generally know who's getting that broadcast because they either don't know me but they're able to complete my sentences, or I'll be thinking of or about a person that I know, and they will call me on the phone. If the case is the former, those people tend to try to stay away from me. I'm thinking they can't handle the stream. If you're in the latter group, we're connected. Probably always have been. Determining which thoughts are your own, and those that come beaming in seemingly out of nowhere is the catch to all that. Thoughts??? P.S. I don't consider myself a receiver, but maybe I just can't sort my thoughts from the thoughts of others... Herman Hill passed away a few days ago. He was a receiver of my thoughts. I bet it was confusing for him to be in proximity of me.
intelligence originating from without, as you should already realize, is sorta my thing if I have connected with your interior spaces in the past, I must assume that it did not seem so dark to me I would remember being put off in such a manner
Deb & I have been buying, selling, and trading electric guitars, and amps. Unofficially we are Pocataligo Guitar Exchange. I also do minor repairs to electric guitars & basses. We've flipped 4 Squire Bullet Strats, an ESP - LTD EXP200 Explorer copy, and a DeArmond M65C Les Paul Studio copy, as well as a Peavey Mark III Citation bass amp head, and a Peavey Citation Mark IV guitar amp head. The fun thing about this is that we get to try all kinds of gear that we wouldn't ordinarily get to play with. :)
now you will be needing a PGE logo; some consideration should be given to the silk screening process, when you select a design; the reason for this being cheaper T-shirts and complete PGE control over their manufacture & distribution; just sayin'
1st things first - incorporate as an.LLC. Get a bi'ness license. Then we'll get around to tee shirts and what have you. This will also be the outlet for any cigar box creations.
LLC's are pure crap; there are many ways to protect your #1 asset[your residence] from liabilities you may not see coming, while operating this[any] business at your residence; you can pledge the equity in a residential property as collateral for a small business loan, while your LLC could not; of course your CFO[DEB] would need to chime in on such risky decisions[but risk is what living is all about; security a delusion] got up early[9:03] as per usual on Sunday, in order to catch Jane Pauley on CBS; NOT! there is a tornadic fear monger down in Tallahassee pre-empting the network broadcast to tell me that I need to get in my safe place; all last night there were alerts interrupting my TV-viewing; this 'storm' is indeed unusual for December, with lightning & thunder[started hearing rumbles about 8 PM while watching "Rampage"]; there have been accumulations down here between 2 & 3 inches, but no real cause for flash flood warnings[every 5 to 7 minutes]; added to that sort of aggravation, I'm now an expert in the minutiae of George Herbert Walker's 94-year-long public life[best part is watching secret service guys puking up their guts while an 85-year-old maniac races his speedboat around Kennebunkport's rocky shoals]; if TRUMP died suddenly, we'd really be consigned to TV-hell; so, those warnings expire and they start six minutes of backlogged commercials; sheesh!
Cocoa Beach secret stagehand local?
Titusville; Dad had a friend down there; entire membership of this four-digit film unit was featured on the cover of IA Bulletin
One of the reasons we ditched Atlanta and moved out here was the abundance of nature out here. Ample wildlife, some wild berries and muscadines to be had in good years, plenty of breathing space, no bumping elbows with neighbors. Deb took this picture about 10 minutes ago...
when I go hunting for muscadines, I take along a paper sack; I collect a few in my sack & leave them on that 'shelf' below the rear-window of the jalopy; now the car is infused with the most wonderful odor[perhaps for weeks to come]
It's beautiful, mild and partly cloudy today. I may get out and try to find a good sized deer to take down for our winter meat needs. Possum put up a deer stand that's fully enclosed, about 10 feet above ground that I may go sit in to see what comes by. Rick Scheuerman had a great idea - there's a hangout in Athens named Nucci's Space. It was originally a place where one could rent musical rehearsal space by the month, that also has a coffee shop. I think, as I recall the story, that Nucci had committed suicide, but someone kept Nucci's Space up and running. So one of the things they do there is have auctions of art and musical instruments to provide support for depressed/suicidal people. Rick suggested that I take some of these old beat relical guitars that I have in abundance just sitting around, make them into pieces of art, and either donate or perhaps take a small percentage of the sale of these items. What sayeth thee old friend?
I like the auction angle[not so much the 'cause' enumerated]; also, auctioning off unwanted guitar-bodies converted into 'art' would not provide the benefit I imagine; I think you should cobble together an instrument, using all your acquired skills, that is meant from its conception to be auctioned off @Nucci's Space; the bidders would be local musicians/collectors that you'd be pleased to meet[& that may commission lucrative projects going forward]; no charge for this wonderful idea
the Athens music scene has developed a somewhat muted presence online; it was in emergence-stage, when I was dating my 1st wife & made the drive frequently in my VW-van, fitted w/8-track stereo system sorry I did not mention my amazement at DEB's photo of tomorrow's lunch; I'll use that image for cover art soon, and look forward to gator's comment on it once I have the TITLE, I'll know what to write about in the contents; these images can entice many more clicks, and that is what I'm exploring @Booksie.com my 'editor' sucks, but I'm also exploring better ways to make use of its features; learning as I go keeps me busy at this keyboard not much real interaction with other readers/writers has occurred; there is a moderator calling himself Booksie Guy; BG is probably not a BOT, but I have not really gotten to him yet I tried to get a new persona at Retirement Online, but have not heard back from its Appleton, WI moderator/witch checked out 'online banks' without any success; ALLY requires govt.-issued ID to open an account if you had been able to open my home-video, you could have seen me vibrating; my tremors are pretty bad, and when my paycheck arrives, I usually sign the damn thing first thing in the morning, before I have my coffee; this seems to make the scrawl more legible my typing ability is affected, and this over-sized keyboard is a help with my target acquisition difficulties https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uVlSVkzbJDA check out the antiquated studio equipment featured here
Gary Jules, Michael Andrews
All around me are familiar faces Worn out places, worn out faces Bright and early for their daily races Going nowhere, going nowhere Their tears are filling up their glasses No expression, no expression Hide my head, I want to drown my sorrow No tomorrow, no tomorrow And I find it kinda funny, I find it kinda sad The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had I find it hard to tell you, I find it hard to take When people run in circles it's a very very Mad world, mad world Children waiting for the day, they feel good Happy birthday, happy birthday Made to feel the way that every child should Sit and listen, sit and listen Went to school and I was very nervous No one knew me, no one knew me Hello teacher, tell me what's my lesson Look right through me, look right through me And I find it kinda funny, I find it kinda sad The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had I find it hard to tell you, I find it hard to take When people run in circles it's a very very Mad world, mad world Enlarge your world Mad world
The cover art is from a photo taken in 1968. The building featured was a new one, and I graduated from Bass High School on its stage. Most of the boys were headed for college... or Vietnam. I chose the former, and believe that it has made all the difference. When roads diverge in a yellow wood, noticing their width and worn condition is just one approach to the decision-making quandry. I was taught to choose door number three. 1968 was a good time for such choices, and many of my contemporaries made just such a definitive choice. If you possess the technology to view/listen to DVD's, might I suggest the enhanced edition of WOODSTOCK; the movie. You'll see what many of those, that chose door number three, looked like. My graduating class was small by most standards; we chose to sing a song from "Man of La Mancha." But we 'walked' in a less-prescribed manner. I drove off in a Renault Dauphine with a slow-moving-vehicle sign attached to the rear. Though I might like to be eighteen again, at the time, I was not looking back. I did return to this building many times though; I worked there on many occasions. Sometimes I worked on that stage; sometimes I worked in the exhibit hall at the other end of the complex. The construction of this facility, by the municipality, was considered to be an important urban renewal project. That is how 'buttermilk bottom' disappeared from Forest Avenue. Another blight vanished when Fulton County Stadium went up. In 1951, the city received the All-America City Award, due to its rapid growth and high standard of living in the southern U.S. Annexation was the central strategy for growth. In 1952, Atlanta annexed Buckhead, as well as vast areas of what are now northwest, southwest and south Atlanta, adding 82 square miles (210 km2) And tripling its area. By doing so, 100,000 new affluent white residents were added, preserving white political power as well as expanding the city's property tax base And enlarging the traditional leadership upper-middle-class white class. That class now had to room to expand inside the city limits. Federal court decisions in 1962-63 ended the county-unit system thus greatly reducing rural Georgia control over the state legislature, enabling Atlanta, and other cities, to gain proportional political power. The Federal courts opened the Democratic Party primary to black voters, who surged in numbers and became increasingly well organized through the Atlanta Negro Voters League. Rush week was soon upon me, and I attended two of the parties; choices! ALPHA TAU OMEGA was where one of my acquaintances at work had become a paddle-wielding brother, so I checked out their presentation. As a sort of back-up plan, I also checked out the men of ALPHA EPSILON PI; they checked me out as well; I was rejected on religious grounds. Time for door number three. I carried a full load for four consecutive quarters at my new school, before that other door presented itself. From Fall Quarter of 1969 until Fall Quarter of 1970, I was out of school, but stuck to my solemn vow to return in one year[against all the odds]. It had been too cloudy and overcast to see the eclipse of the sun that year; there was a lot going on that I did not see very clearly. When I returned to school, I changed my major from 'undecided' to ANTHROPOLOGY; a Greek professor guided my acquisition of this love for studying men; he was Greek Orthodox, and would have been rejected by those men at AY-EE-PIE as well; he took his 101 class to the Church he attended, and we followed the liturgy in Greek[and wrote a paper on the experience]. The mosaic in the dome was impressive. I never adhered to my degree 'program,' and so I never graduated from GSU; a classmate from Bass had gotten his degree in just four years[Class of '72]; I ran into Ross at SEARS, where he was selling tires; I went back to that stage, where the Class of '68 had sung about walking on through the wind.
Everyone knows that without a valid photo ID, you cannot purchase a box of breakfast cereal. The folks across the wall will need a better system, and the increasing use of bio-metrics[by connected data terminals] is a giant leap for the AI kind. UPC's can be scanned to track products as they change locations. RFID's are often laminated into photo ID's, so an employer can track his/her minions, and control their access to sensitive areas within their workplace. In the US, your SSN connects you to an exhaustive data base that 'knows' how hard you work, how much compensation you receive and where your 'assets' are currently being stored. What can be 'learned' about an individual, and how quickly this new data can be accumulated, attached to the appropriate individual files and how quickly those updated files can then be assessed is what AI exists for. Current business models[like at FaceBook & GoogleChrome] will each gradually lose its earning potential[a process being accelerated by the public sentiment in favor of government regulation of all their data collection and sharing practices], as the flow of data becomes more centralized and access to those files and data streams more restricted. The global expansion of connected Android devices is shifting the product consumption patterns in growing/struggling economies towards some ill-perceived goal, that becomes more and more achievable with each passing minute. Both of the big 'data players' in the streams of ones and zeroes now being catalogued here in the US, have made agreements to share it with our government. If we assume that there are adults in the room, where the analysis of this growing horde is being coordinated, then we can also assume that some of those individuals will be targeted to administer this collection and analysis process, once that 'responsibility' is transferred to a more 'independent' entity, resembling the Federal Reserve in its organization. At that point, the elected representatives in government will be reduced to an ordinary subset of identified individuals, to be monitored and manipulated by an increasingly automated system. If the drones can find you, you could be quickly eliminated. What will determine your value to that global system? Your consumption patterns is the obvious answer; BUY WISELY! I'm off to get an HBO fix; at eight they are replaying a missed episode of "My Intelligent Friend" just for my benefit; this series is filmed in Italian & broadcast with English subtitles; this makes it difficult to enjoy the imagery, because I'm busy reading so I'll know WTF is going on.
AI may be the thing that brings us into full globalization, perhaps the issue that preachers in my past have warned us about. Our baptist preacher out in Mableton used to hand out Watchtower pamphlets that had articles regarding the evils of globalization. Hmm ... to be overseen by the great computer in the sky (cloud networking).
I've been keeping my cloud-connection turned off
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bixby_(virtual_assistant) https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jen_Taylor https://www.pcworld.com/article/2099943/microsofts-cortana-digital-assistant-guards-user-privacy-with-notebook.html https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Invoke_(smart_speaker) https://www.ask.com/youtube?q=cortana&v=DxrJWSi_IWo https://www.windowscentral.com/why-splitting-cortana-and-search-windows-10-makes-sense https://www.zdnet.com/article/microsoft-moves-key-technologies-including-cortana-from-research-to-product-groups/ https://arstechnica.com/information-technology/2012/06/inside-the-architecture-of-googles-knowledge-graph-and-microsofts-satori/
https://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=ASMR like those furries, these 'artists' are being accused of deviance; what say you? https://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=furry+fandom
To be sure, I'm not understanding the nature of adult cos-play.
cable TV is definitely turning my brain to mush, but some furries have serious behavioral issues that can be mitigated by their cos-play; ASMR is the new player on the block, and their 'offerings' have been 'taken down' on multiple forums as somehow inappropriate; I find this lack of freedom[of expression] to be indicative of rapid 'political' corrosion of the medium; that button labelled REPORT would be less attractive, if your reporting history came up with your profile info; STFU would be door # 3 Gibi explains it quite well: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCE6acMV3m35znLcf0JGNn7Q
I'll start back driving for Uber or Lyft later today, after having taken some time off due to those pesky heart issues. I didn't feel confident driving people around knowing that I was possibly still at risk for another "coronary event". The cardiologist has cleared me to return to normal activities. I didn't start driving for these ride-sharing companies to impress anyone, hell there sure as shit ain't nothing glamorous about carting poor people around all day. What it does give me is nearly instant income that I can access almost immediately after giving someone a ride. Pair that with there ain't a boss riding my ass. I can drive whenever I want to, I set my own hours. And lastly it gives me something to do beside sit here and piss and moan about things over which I have no control. :) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tg0BNTebcbY
there are two types of people in the world; when your 'ride' climbs into your vehicle, do you re-adjust the rear-view mirror to center onto the face of the speaker; door #3 is insisting that he/she rides up front; keep on smiling RYAN wrote: I make projects of my experiences working UBER. Last video of this nature got a lot of attention- though, I deleted it to be (slightly) more professional. So here is another few weeks worth of footage. These videos have been for nothing but fun, and I'm glad others have appreciated them. It's awesome to have an audience watch something that I've created and I want to see if this little project can go somewhere. Those in my videos consented to being in my project, blurred identity or not. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pVOJ5ZfzjF8
my TV took a shit... and now SANTANA is blaring; this album, the one with all those damn faces, was given to me by a chick that thought my DONOVAN eight-tracks were just not going to get me there; of course she was right... and so there were drums in the house; another tape cart that was played in that house was WHO'S NEXT; I thought it was pretty good travelin' music, along with a Beatles-thing called RUBBER SOUL; gettin' high & gettin' out on the road was a pretty good way to pass the time on my gap-year; when I decided on ANTHROPOLOGY, it was mostly because it legitimized the study of sex, drugs & rock'n'roll... so I studied... HARD! playing this complete album seems to have slowed down the clock; that's an unusual effect; I'm shopping for a King Crimson video [ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=no8L51U_KlM ]; not any WHO'S NEXT videos that do anything; guess I'll just let it play for awhile I get my TV going, and dammit... the water goes off; they're out there digging up the street; probably gonna be off the rest of the day brewed my coffee w/ice cubes; just try and outsmart an old white guy... go right ahead wrote a new ICU last night; about 40 peeks at it, w/no comments, so... vanished new text has less film-script niceties... less humor... no dialog...
He had to admit... he couldn't see a thing. A good bluff sometimes can win the pot. He spoke into the darkness, "I see you!" He hoped it had sounded convincing. Not a sound. Why had he come out here without his trusty flashlight? Only gonna be gone for a minute. Tell it to the wind. He turned with a confidence he wasn't actually feeling. In a slightly lowered voice, he spoke to himself as he walked away from where he thought the creature must be. "I'll be right back,... so don't you dare move." Not a sound. He tried to imagine his 'creature' when it was not cloaked in utter blackness. The imagined lighting his mind put into those trees just beyond the clearing where his friend had parked his truck was of no use; he could see the trees right enough, but the image he needed simply would not materialize there. Not knowing what was there with him... not knowing how far his friend needed to go in the truck to fetch water... not knowing how fast he could make it to the imagined safety of the old cabin... not knowing was making him sweat. And that creature could smell the fear... smell the open containers with food in them... smell where the truck had been parked, and the odor on that other one... that was far away now. His thoughts were on the amaretto hidden in his sleeping bag; then his hand was on it. He poured into the tin cup... the one he knew he'd left on the table; cup in hand, he closed and latched the rustic door. It was pitch black in the cabin too. He drank deeply. Forty proof means about twenty percent alcohol; better than a beer... smelling better too. Now there was scratching and clawing at the corner of the door. "I'd pour you one too, but I gotta find that flashlight,... first. Then maybe I can find another cup." He mock-toasted his little friend, and drank deeply once again. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_UNMTthguCQ
confession:the only GARCIA I like has cherries & chunks of chocolate in it
I've been rummaging around in those dusty old memory-bins, trying to remember when I switched from eight-track tape-carts over to vinyl LP's; first came WQXI, and then FM-stations became a thing; we were at 481 Clifton Rd., by the time I bought a stereo system[I would have been a senior in high school at the time... 1968]; 8-trak player/amplifier w/2 speakers that weighed nearly nothing; in the next room, my sister[13 months younger] was spinning LP's of Firesign Theater, Mothers of Invention & Jimi Hendrix Experience to annoy me; I moved out of there JAN 1970, & took that same stereo system to my Briarcliff apartment; during those tape-cart-years, I was driving an old VW 'bus[w/windows all-round]' that was repainted blue & gray; I had a tape player[under-dash] professionally installed; two ceiling-mounted speakers and a six-volt to twelve-volt converter mounted on the pan beside my engine; you could hear muted spark-field-noise when your tracks played[like a subtle audio-tachometer]; this 'dustbin' is kinda like a public library filled with stories packed onto shelves that nobody ever disturbs; these stories have sacrificed chronological accuracy for other, more aesthetic consistencies; at this point in my recollection process, I believe that "Tea For The Tillerman" was a tape I had bought, and that "John Barleycorn Must Die" was purchased on vinyl; both these were released in 1970; one night, in that first apartment, I popped in a tape that I distinctly disliked, and slept all night while wearing bulky headphones, and while the tracks endlessly looped; Blood Sweat & Tears... NYC's antidote to Chicago; I cannot remember when I bought a better home-system & a turntable, but I recall listening to Ten Years After, Grand Funk Railroad & Bloodrock; "The Survival of Saint Joan" was also an LP that I bought[released 1971 by a Tucker, GA garage band]. In 1972[Fall/Winter], I drove around the US in my '71 VWCampmobile[bought new], with nothing more than a German-built radio; the best I could do, was find a pirate station, broadcasting at major mega-wattage, from a tall tower located on Canadian soil.
over there, I'm friedlich I'm new there, having joined on Black Friday tonight, I ran across your e-mail address, in a COMMENT you had left most folks do not do that, and maybe you are different from most folks[that, at least, is my hope] I sometimes publish my e-mail address, trying to encourage a more image-friendly medium of exchange my privacy concerns are next to none, and anxiety over firewall-type protection against virus/worm/spam/whatever is negligeable the site reminds me of a multi-player game moreso than a community of writers of course, I'm still figuring out how to use the site for my own purposes I'm an older guy, living in southwest Georgia a retired stagehand; been writing since I quit working in 2005 not a boozer[or any other vice that costs money] caffeine & nicotine are my thing[like most writers... ALLEGEDLY] my stories run the gamut, and there is a lot of it that could be described as non-fiction fiction is preferred, when stinging truths are being revealed a cloak of plausible deniability my favorite author is Neal Stephenson hands down but I read a lot of books, and admire some of the fascinating women who have chosen to write Barbara Kingsolver springs to mind - http://www.kingsolver.com/books/ send me something you are working on
Ready for rain. My youngest half-sister, Sandra, (who's roughly 16 years older than me) married this guy back in...66 - 67. Perry Carlton Buie, aka Buddy. I have no idea how or where they met. They had gotten a house over near Columbia Avenue, behind Belvedere Plaza. Sandra had two daughters in tow from a previous marriages, Belinda, and Johnnie. Belinda is two years my senior, Johnnie is 4 years younger. My mother and I would visit them pretty often, and they were all lots of fun to visit. Buddy was a budding song writer/producer that had been working with southern recording legend Bill Lowery. Bill at that time owned Mastersound Studio, and had a publishing company called Low-Sal. Buddy's first hit was a song called "I Take it Back" recorded by Sandy Posey'
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r-zoLSF_-3c
And that was the launch of a very successful career for him. I won't bury you under all the details of all the artists that he has written for. He passed away a few years ago.
When he was really starting to bring in the money he was working with members of Roy Orbison's stable-band, The Candymen. They had some nominal success, but The Candymen begat The Classics IV, which did very well and had a handful of top 10 AM radio hits. The Classics IV begat The Atlanta Rhythm Section. ARS did great in the album oriented rock (AOR) format. But as always success has a price. Sister Sandra was jealous and didn't trust Buddy, he was always around southern rock celebrities, and their hot ass girlfriends. Not a good combo, so that marriage flopped.
The real point of it all though, was to say that I had some early life exposure to the music industry and I knew back then that I wanted to be somehow in the business of working in and around music. A car radio installer. A stagehand cum audio assistant. A song writer and a casual player of guitar, bass, and synthesizers, and now a maker of fine cuban cigar box instruments. (laugh at the last one).
When Buddy would have the guys from The Classics IV come by for rehearsals, me and little Johnnie would hang out in the hallway listening intently to what they were playing. What I saw about Buddy that was so appealing to me was that he kinda just did what the fuck he wanted, when he wanted to, and had very few people to answer to.
I liked that aspect of R&R...
you told me about BUDDY once before, and now I get the CANDYMEN connection to that pineywoods thing you sent; did you visit Blue Devil-country often enough to learn your way around? ...any Belvedere Plaza experiences that would make a story or song lyric? Those places were within cycling range of my Little Five Points-hood; my gang would even go fishing in a creek out there. Kids today ain't about shit; so much character-building movement across a sprawling urban environment; we weren't afraid, and we weren't over-supervised I'm writing about my Sunday morning, which is the only day of the week, when I make the effort to rise from my bed as early as 9 AM. I'm retired now, which carries with it the unquestionable benefit of 'sleeping in.' I make this conscious effort, because I cannot bear to miss the SUNDAY MORNING broadcast.
An interesting ARTICLE, aimed at baby boomers who read such 'posted material,' requires that I first do a bit of research. This morning's research has yielded the e-mail address directing this COMM to some unknown reader. What if this lucky recipient became known to all those that rise early on Sunday morning, like I have done? Such a story, to actually make the cut, would need to have some visual appeal... something for the camera to 'see' that is not just another talking head. If it becomes about the many suggestions that are not considered by the show's producers, I'm imagining an over-the-shoulder shot of an INBOX displayed on a PC's monitor; boring... right? Following the next suggestion that has some potential, through a chain of CBS News employees, into a roomful of writers and producers having the kind of discussion that ends with a proposal that will get funded, while turning the negative into a positive, still lacks the kind of imagery that will excite a camera crew. With the show's long history, many of the best ideas will have probably been done before, but a story about the technology that has changed the whole process probably has not been considered. Retired persons have an attachment to the kind of resistance to change that would permeate such a story. They also have a strong dislike for seeing a computer screen depicted as a character in a film or TV broadcast. And reading those texts that pop-up on the screen, because there is a SmartPhone in the scene, is particularly annoying. A surprising amount of the liesure time that retirement affords my boomer colleagues is devoted to online communication, by the many individuals who have made the necessary adjustments to modern technologies. These intrepid 'explorers' deserve a part in the story, but the visual appeal considerations must still be artfully applied. Some 70 million retired individuals make up a significant slice of an imagined pie-chart, that represent specific demographic segments to be considered as 'topical' by story creators up there. Please don't show us the pie chart... boring! Show us the bewildered old guy, searching for a qualified salesperson at Best Buy, to guide his purchase of an affordable laptop. Engaging that much younger demographic, now driving story selection in those board rooms, is a key consideration, if I'm to get my story selected for production. So, lets have a look at that young salesperson, that gets to help the customer make this purchase of electronic gadgetry. Are we talking tatoo's, facial piercings and a blue tooth-device protruding from the ear canal? Do we focus on his/her need to pay off the loan that sent them to some university, that forgot to teach them about being over-qualified for that sales position they would end up in? The scene ends in two ways; the kid sells the customer more gaming capability than he'll need for Skype, his gmail account and finding his grandchildren's FaceBook pages; or,... and this outcome is far more unlikely... the grandfather bests the salesperson, walks out of Best Buy with the low-end device he can afford[and was surprisingly in stock] and encounters no insurmountable difficulty, when he turns the contraption on at his comfortable breakfast-table, later that day, after a frustrating 45-minute ride on a metro bus, and a 20-minute hike, from the nearest bus stop, carrying his purchase with tired old arms, and painful arthritic hands. The interaction between the two alien cultures, that needs to occur for a purchase to be transacted, holds out the best hope I have for this story to get made. There are casting considerations, of course; two actors with current shows on CBS works best, so who could we actually get? They should both maintain residences in the same city, and those probable 'locations' to be used during production should be near a cooperating Best Buy retail store. My Dad was a technician that was employed by CBS News, back in the film-days, when a 3-man crew was required to document a story. He would go out with Laurens Pierce when cities in the South were burning; a dangerous job at the time, for a man armed with a Sun Gun. I got lucky enough, just once, to get one of these call-outs from our local affiliate; the three of us lugged equipment up to a crowded office-space at CDC Headquarters; a story was breaking about syphylitic men going untreated, during a clinical study over in Alabama; the prepared statement that we recorded there, was hardly worth all the labor involved[much less the expense incurred due to union wages that were paid]. This 'story' has already been published; here is a LINK to the page: https://www.booksie.com/577188-sunday-morning Please spare no expense with your REPLY to my e-mail. I'd like to add it to the story.
When I consider bits and pieces of the article, not viewed as a whole - "lacks the kind of imagery that will excite a camera crew." that statement kinda stuck out. Who gives a fuck what motivates a camera crew? I'd think, and wtf do I know, that the union pay scale would in and of itself be motivational. Having put that out there, it was just the first thing that came to mind. For my edification, in this story, what is your objective? How easy or how difficult the purchase was to make? Beat the kid at the sales game? Having made the purchase, the seemingly sad and somewhat difficult trip home? Perhaps an object lesson about our aging boomer population? All of the above? I see angles. Perspectives. I see an opportunity to make Best (fucking) Buys a proletariat hero, which is just bullshit. I see an opportunity to attempt to make plain to the children of boomers how difficult life can be. I see an op to make the whiz kid at BestBuy look like a jerk. What made the bus ride so frustrating?
Q#1:crew excited by producer's idea will spend more time and produce more fascinating video; imagine being CBS's go-to guy for interviews Q#2:dual objective:sell someone @CBS to do such a story & use e-mail text as content for Booksie.com[fixing to go silver sometime today] Q#3:under 'all of the above' I was trying to imagine what a crew could do to illustrate 'the story' with video that might be doable; my first trip to STAPLES to buy[for ca$h] my new laptop left me leaving for Office Depot with 'urge to kill' etched on my wizened face; next to finding out that the model displayed, at a sales price I can afford, is no longer in stock, my 2nd greatest peeve would be that sales pitch to purchase the more expensive laptop, conveniently on display right next to the one they don't even have, pointing out all that upgraded capability, like he was trained to say to his customer, because he don't know HDMI from HTML; the portrayal of transportation difficulties experienced routinely by retirees, goes to the value to the customer of the salesperson getting everything right on his first try Q#4:at the very end where you highlight the frustration, it would be up to the crew here to depict in their visual medium, the sorts of riders one might encounter, on a ride that zig-zags through all the housing projects, picking up more annoying riders, or perhaps letting the worst of them get off, stopping too abruptly, engaging in stupid arguments over the payment of the fare that delay any forward progress, and arriving at the desired destination 45-minutes later, when a crow could fly that distance in about three minutes its been pretty quiet up that way,... so a shout-out found a new 'place;' it's called bookrix throwin' life a spitter; got up about 7:30 when I do this, I end up snoozin' during my news broadcasts latest short story kind of a poke at LGBTQ's Y-knot try something new? might bring some of these trolls out of the woods kinda stole these paragraphs, for... ??
The life of a writer is pretty solitary, both by design and necessity. While you may find yourself in the neighborhood coffee shop a few days a week just for a change of pace, being a writer can be lonely and quiet.
Well-meaning as they are, your friends and family don’t understand the nuance between conflict and crisis. Try as they might, they can’t relate to the complexity of creating a consistent voice.
It’s no wonder that writing and alcohol are familiar companions. But it’s not happy hour yet. Here’s the good news: you’re not alone. In fact, right this moment, writers just like you are actively participating in writing communities all over the web. It’s time that you meet.
don't care for the alcohol bit, but it might fly did the coffee shop bit; kinda cool, but I'm persona non gratis at the downtown one cain't afford that shit no more nohow; cain't even get it together for Burger King Dollar Tree had some tasty canned goods; a $1 can of red beans & rice went down smooth[& spicy] lady behind me in line says that it's $.89 @Wal-Mart the pie-filling I bought would be $2 @Harvey's trade-off looks like Mueller's plannin' a warm reception for those freshmen/women Congressfolk Macron's reception heating up across the pond[the two M's havin' a populist crisis too; Europe's toast] it all started @NAPSTER; not Putin's doin' like some think battery in this Windows lapbook is for shit still fightin' off the FANG crowd; my spam folder still empty, but saw a browser-history thing pop-up w/firefox this AM tried out my MS-internet explorer as plan-B, but BING keeps interferin' & there are other annoying features I use WordPad, so I don't activate my introductory Office suite if I shut down instead of sleep, I have to close the cloud thing that slips in firefox wants to be set as default[another bothersome keystroke] there was an MS e-mail account that can't be used without a phone for activation code figuring out workarounds is my puzzle-thing; won't even register for ACER is there some LINUX browser code? wouldn't want snoopy here to know I was looking into that friedlich is being shamed for trolling already gonna try for a haircut today; it's gettin' too long[sides & back] clipping backside tricky w/tools I got w/trimmer[blind barber w/shaky hands] then there's the mess to clean up there's always the pony-tail option I also have one of those wave-caps, if I go native looking at the side of this new LG, there are yellow[video], white[L or MONO] & red[R] inputs and an S-VIDEO thingy w/tiny pins no HDMI I should find something like the back-up drive you suggested that can 'go there' have not heard back from CBS; no surprise they found a dead body on the corner; not watching my local news broadcasts means checking online for further details maybe they were digging his grave when the water went off my rides to the store, often two trips, indicate a decline in my physical strength that is mildly disturbing after 935-days of incarceration, I had soon gained back some musculature three trips to my storage unit, bearing incredible loads, took a lot more physical prowess than I now command I reminded myself that 2013-2015, I used to hoof it to the store[about 1 mi.], and backpack/carry back my supplies cycling is a luxury I'd hate to suddenly lose this motel-living is also a luxury[said the once-homeless man] I gathered all my manuscripts into one pile[for disposal?] took out any 'identifying documents' for safekeeping also have one three-page ms in an envelope I'll send that way one day tried giving away some of this ladies' apparel, but I think I offended my neighbor-lady with the gesture she liked the costume jewelry that was swag/booty found on the floor of my plan-B hidey-hole across from BK running out of ideas here "lady on"
I can relate to having lost some of that muscle. After I had the shoulder replacement I was laid up for about 8 weeks. Couldn't use the left shoulder at all, and was in a sling/pillow assembly that kept the arm in a state of comfortable non-use. That was pretty much the beginning of the end for my muscle tone. I'm striving to maintain the strength I have. I never thought I'd be this diminished. I sometimes have trouble lifting a full gallon of liquids such as water or milk with the left arm. Pair that with nerve damage that's caused a loss of sensation in my hands...argh...it's frustrating, considering that there was once a time when I could lift a chain motor with 75' of chain with just the left arm. That day has come and gone. I'd love to go pull that shrimp net with you again. Some of the most fun I've had was down at St. Andrew's sound, especially during a mullet run, where the dolphins were snagging mullet that were jumping the nets. What a great show of nature. I'm off for my half-mile round trip hike to the mailbox & back, then back to work on this bass guitar wine-box project for Tuck's brother. I'm almost finished with that, I just have to install the neck, the volume & tone controls, solder all the connections, install the machine heads, and seal the box. Ciao4now. Seizure later agit8r.
Seizure later agit8r ain't bad; mine was Ricky's tagline my intro to chain motors resulted from the now infamous "A call is a call" policy instituted by Local 41 bakNtheDAY; I was offered the chance to say no or yes to the worst thing on offer, before being skipped until my name rotated all the way back around; there was great benefit, on occasion, to getting first crack at something nobody else wanted to fuck with; this 'strict' policy was also a great way for a crook to skip quickly over a lot of referrals, before starting to fill a film crew, with a long list of assholes that turned down anything not film related, in order to maintain their position in this 'privileged' part of the rotating list; a full-time stagehand, with no friends in office[never wanted any], had to say yes every time[endless 4-hour calls] in order to eat; my rigging days started when OMNI Coliseum was new; we routinely had a 5-man crew[one groud rigger]; most points were not directly below any steel accessible from the catwalks in the pods; this, of course, meant guaging the lengths of two cables, Y-ed together with a down-length, to hit the bullseye; this was not only years before riggers became spider-men, that could rig points from beams running between pods, but also years before roadcrews trooped enough cable to deal with arena-shit like the fukkin OMNI; the building had enough cable for their everyday rigging needs, but... it was all 1/2" shit; add the weight of 30 to 50 feet of 1/2" cable, to about 90' of chain, and you get two men pulling against two other men in another pod, that they cannot see or hear; a good ground rigger was key, and you didn't want no sound puke up there pullin' on that heavy shit beside you; no pussies need apply! - a manly physique was the result, when most of the[by now hundreds of them] guys on the old rotating list found out what was required to say yes to a rigging call, and the list just spun right back to the last 5 guys that took a call at the OMNI; I got seriously beefed-up, before this bullshit came to an end[& before those spider-men showed up, and they started paying a premium wage to get them] I couldn't find any rigger-pics, but this attachment shows the connector tubing; access to the catwalks was from the roof; to access the steel at the apex of a pod, you had to walk up the outside of the pod, using a rope left dangling for the purpose; if brave enough, you could save a lot of time and effort, walking the very broad tube to the next apex position; one problem, however... there was a crotch-height + 3" lightning rod half way across; not so bad far the tall cowboys
I got lucky having Reagan, Milo, Hokey, and Big Bob to show me the ropes as it were. The Fox and Civic Center were generally easy rigs with most points onstage being single-point because of the way the grids were laid out. The Classic Center grid is a different story though. with 7 main beams spanning upstage to downstage, and no beams spanning left to right, practically every point was a compound bridle. At least in The Classic Center you can see & hear the up-riggers. Also nice is that The Classic Center had installed expanded steel grates between the beams so you can stow cables and gear up there. I miss being a rigger. I miss being healthy enough to rig.
I think 'stinger' should read stringer here; a 'stinger' is a 10' grounded extension cord[I had to ask the Best Boy]; bridle, basket & chain-motor are okay; when I took my ground rigger's training in Vegas, there was only one correct way to lay out pieces and parts for baskets... one way to engage the shackles with 'economic' motions of hands, feet & back... one way to tie a completed bridle out on the floor so the high men could inspect the work before lifting; the up-rigger 'makes' the basket[shouldn't have to undo a shackle or untie a bowline knot, to secure the hardware properly]; at the fukkin OMNI, the poor ground rigger frequently had to hold the 1.5 ton motor overhead, long enough for his four guys to secure both baskets, because it's 110' to the apex & the chain was all paid out; at least, if held above the headbone, the dropped shackle ain't a killshot
know of wire-rope, and witnessed a splicing operation @OMNI one day; the splice was as long as the arena[cleared for the process] Kermit[Spradlin] tryed over and over to teach me to splice hemp; that turn-back on the end, that was what the old guys did[pretty quickly] when they cut a rope[often for a snub to tie off a line set], instead of all that gooey electrical tape, was about all I could ever handle; the other end of a snub[about 6'] had a short loop spliced into it[about 14" splice enough for securing the 'safety' to the pinrail] I still think that stinger is just wrong, Wrong, WRONG!
O Peaceful One, That’s what the word ‘friedlich’ means in my first language. And yes, I remember Linda Goodman and her books. The first one was very good, but by the time the second one appeared Linda had ‘caught’ spirituality and went way, way, way over the top with it. She invented a new numerology that did not make any sense at all, if I remember right and I can’t recall whether I read that second book to the end. It was a very poor affair and just cashing in on the success of the first one. God bless and have a good day, With love – Aquarius
2nd book disapointed the girls as well; they weren't half bad predicting love matches, nasty break-ups & etc. they would get your birthday in their crew-roster, and find the one for you my best match was the lighting designer, but he had too many other boyfriends[ballerino's everywhere] I'm PISCES, & the match w/wife #1 not so good[CAPRICORN]; next tour was a GEMINI that earned herself a full-length fur coat she was way too smart to become #2 my mentor was Aquarian man; smartest man I've ever known horoscopes are like fortune cookies; a dream-job if you are a writer[used to love the 'fortune' in BAZOOKA bubble gum] write the stuff correctly, and anyone will agree that his/her sign just got pegged; those coin-op dispensers don't have 12 hoppers Mary Alice Kemery a.k.a. Linda Goodman, of course, would not/could not agree but,... who wouldn't rather have 12 good forecasts in each daily paper instead of[in my case] one fishy one the shepherd that first saw a maiden bringing water in the heavens over his thirsty head, should get more credit, than some ancient astrologer, wearing ermine, & bearing myrrh this mentor had a way about him[buckle-up,... I'm talking about you now]; every person in his presence, big or small, credentialed or insignificant, would instantly be made to feel of prime importance; the sun shone upon you; this is bearing water, dear meanwhile, your defenses utterly destroyed, he'd be in your head... deep in your head, figuring things out... for YOU... for HIM... for someone else, that he may not have even met yet... well, that all depends on how the 'long game' plays out he could artfully manipulate anyone, make them feel good about it, and even if things turned out pretty badly 4U you loved him all the more... hating only his enemies[that had attacked you, because he was invincible] he would take you to 'special' places, impart sacred knowledge only meant 4U, find things you thought forever lost all the things a magus commands he was quite the yenta as well[but would probably end up 'with' your perfect girl] he moved in some pretty powerful circles, and it was as easy as 'teaching' kindergarten children his favorite recording was a live one w/Neil Diamond enduring an actual Hot August Night this was, of course, him, singing his siren-song to every young girl in a 100-mile radius are you blushing yet DON'T I love you! Everything about you! I'm not, however, fixing to drink your blood.
when I ran away from home[1st & last time], I was driving my sweetie[Diane was a year older w/fiery red hair] in a red Renault 10 w/push-button transmission For 1963 (initially only in France), Renault offered an automatic transmission of unique design, developed and produced by Jaeger.[7] It was first shown at the September 1962 Paris Motor Show.[8] Although it was described as a form of automatic transmission at the time, in retrospect it was more realistically a form of automatic clutch, inspired by the German Saxomat device which appeared as an option on several mainstream German cars in the 1950s and 60s. The clutch in the system was replaced by a powder ferromagnetic coupler, developed from a Smiths design.[8] The transmission itself was a three-speed mechanical unit similar to that of the Dauphine, but from the beginning with synchromesh on all gears in this version. The system used a dash-mounted push button control panel where the driver could select forward or reverse and a governor that sensed vehicle speed and throttle position. A "relay case" containing electromagnetic switches received signals from the governor and push buttons and then controlled a coupler, a decelerator to close the throttle during gear changes, and a solenoid to select operation of the reverse-first or second-third shift rail, using a reversible electric motor to engage the gears. The system was thus entirely electro-mechanical, without hydraulics, pneumatics or electronics. Benefits included comparable fuel economy to the manual transmission version, and easy adaptability to the car. Drawbacks included performance loss (with only three available gears) and a somewhat jerky operation during gear changes. The transmission was also used in the Dauphine and the Caravelle. https://otto-models.com/en/ - build your own Renault at 1/18 scale
This ability to do some figuring, is greatly enhanced, because of the rudimentary training I received, on how to use those FRACTIONS. Most classrooms today allow the use of calculators, even during exams. Some students, much younger than I, have trained themselves in the use of their digital assistant, through trial-and-error regimens, that work well for ONLINE GAMES. Learning long division is a thing of the past, but having learned that method greatly improves one's ability to calculate something in one's head. ESTIMATING the answer can greatly simplify these mental processes, while providing acceptable numerical results. You may not have a CALCULATOR handy, when you suddenly need the kind of guidance, that a numerical calculation could quickly provide. 'Scientific Calculators' are reasonably priced, and include many more FUNCTIONS, than their stripped-down companions on the shelf have. My favorite one of these added functions, at the touch of a button, causes a randomly generated three-digit number to be displayed. How utterly useful! Another pre-loaded data point, that makes these calculators much more useful, would be a FORMULA remembered from some geometry class, or a physics lab you endured in college. With a formula, and an understanding of the relationships between numerator and denominator of two separate fractions, you can do a lot of useful shit. This verity is the reason they sell calculators at Home Depot & Loew's. They also sell the kind of tools needed, to remove the electronic device from its bubble-packaging. A formula I like is the one for calculating the length of a circle, which uses both its diameter and pi[the Greek symbol that roughly equals 3.14]. This FORMULA is useful for calculating the speed at which our planet circles about the sun, if you remember how far away that star is. Using such a large quantity in a calculation, means that your answer will sometimes be represented in 'scientific notation.' This is to save space on the tiny read-out screen, and should not create insurmountable problems for the operator. Similar calculations, using the same formula, will tell you how many tulip bulbs will be needed, of each color that you have chosen, for several varigated, concentric circles, planted hastily in the FALL, when the bulbs are widely available, and much cheaper to purchase. Figuring out how many eggs you should boil, so you can mix up a three-day supply of fluffy egg salad, is a different kind of problem, but it also has a trial-and-error solution. Believe it or not, it was this trial-and-error process that enabled Apollo astronauts to land their LEM on the moon.
three 'wise' men, bearing gifts followed a star[which some say 'moved' in the night sky in a noticeably unusual fashion] was there any disagreement among these three about what had been observed? three's are pretty important, as you know are there psychological implications buried in this belief in the 'power of 3?'
I was in ANTHROPOLOGY, and freely admit shortcomings relating to psychology cocaine use & Red Book symbolism did fall within my purview study & research into astrology, sorcery & freemasonry have me leaning towards early roots involving healers
this said, I'm quoting the 20th century's most prominent spiritual master:
Black Magic has always one definite characteristic. It is the tendency to use people for some, even the best of aims, without their knowledge and understanding, either by producing in them faith and infatuation or by acting upon them through fear.
this scrap of text was saved, because I was anticipating your e-mail response, so prepared myself I choose to 'act'/think about YOU, instead of wonder why I'm doing it I did take a senior-level course with a new textbook:"Culture & Personality" what did a gal, with an astrologer's webpage, study in preparation? reading stories gently molds the 'story of SELF' that determines our ability to ACT any 'story' requiring these 'edits' simply cannot be accepted as FACT[two rhyming stanzas... should I go for THREE?]my story is so long, that the attention span required does not yet exist language is the real key to a greater understanding in most every FIELD useful language always ends with a tryst negotiating a willingness in the other to YIELD[4 stanzas] this 'sentiment' is purely Darwinian the truth is, since civilization was birthed by, and gave birth to an alphabetic written form of the spoken language there are far too many individuals, fully integrated into society, that can choose to be motivated by artificial drives that do not contribute to successful reproduction like writing stories about it blame it on the moon
Think that would be handy for calculating sidereal time, vs solar time?
you mock me; how tall is your obelisk?
I'm not mocking you brother, I was just having a chuckle. We're victims of our own mechanisms. The calculator made us weaker and less knowing. This is also happening with computers and smart phones. We aren't pushing our minds to be all they can be. I haven't stored anyone's phone number in years. The argument is that you can use your mind for other, more important things ...like watching cat videos on the screen...
yeah,... those damn cat-videos; I meant your reference to sidereal time, and something I had written about shadows moving about on the floor of my two-man cell
FaceBook, Apple, Netflix & Google are the 4 FANG stocks, which are characterized by their unreasonable P/E-ratios. When I boot-up my device, the first set of keystrokes that I execute, get me disconnected from 'the cloud.' Then, I can click on several options, colorfully displayed, when my FireFox portal screen is displayed. [though this browser is pinned to my task bar, I keep on declining to set it as my default browser;2 more keystrokes] These options are 'ranked' & Google & Amazon are ahead of the Mail.com option that is convenient for me. I have never even visited the Amazon site, but a lot of their junk came already loaded on my new device. There is another one included in my top six, waiting to whisk me away to a MicroSoft APP-store. I wonder what their current P/E-ratio is? There is a YouTube link, but I do visit that Google territory frequently. Apple sold-out to Microsoft, before Microsoft sold-out to Google, and that was before FaceBook & Google sold-out to HSA. In 2011, law enforcement technicians took physical possession of my Notebook device in order to duplicate its drive. Nowadays, such nonsense is no longer necessary. LE's problem now is sorting all those automatically sorted files that keep piling up on their servers. They do not have enough agents to do the necessary sorting & opening of so many suspect files needed to keep up. Instead of a new SpaceForce, Uncle Sam should be preparing for CyberWar, like the Russians & Chinese have. Losing the CyberSpace Race ain't gonna be good, and they have already received several 'Sputnik-embarrassments.' Android OS, in combination with a successful G5-buildout, represents additional frontiers to be protected. During WWII, piles of printed propaganda, were dropped by aircraft overflying urban areas in Axis-territory. The US CyberSpace is being overflown by simiar distributors of toxic materials, and we are powerless to respond. This, as our own propaganda grows increasingly less toxic. Ill-advised trade wars further weaken our position globally, as well as incentivizing new agreements & partnerships. Recent downward pressure on both stock & bond markets simultaneously, is being characterized as a rare occurrence. What happened on those historical occasions? A declining US Dollar would have just such an effect on financial markets. Where assets are denominated in weak currencies, one can expect tandem movements of all asset classes. The global currencies headed in the opposite direction should not be invested in such assets. Large trade imbalances where those debts can be paid off with ever-cheaper Dollars, are also undesirable. So, when India seeks to export significantly less product, what happens to prices in the US? And what becomes of the bluff, that our media has labeled a trade war?
We've been being profiled with steadily increasing depth as data storage became abundant and inexpensive either locally or remotely. A terabyte of retail hard drive storage is about $50, cheaper if you choose to cloud-store your data. My first HDD was 10MB and cost around the same amount. Between AI driven flagging mechanisms, faster and more abundant storage, and our own willingness to share personal information on therm inter-webs, anyone with a smart phone, tablet, or other computing device most likely has a profile. I feel sure that since 1991, there's been enough information gathered about me to provide LE a solid psych profile. I bought my first PC to begin determining the myriad of ways that we're being surveiled. We're screwed, dude.
I'd prefer, at least, the courtesy of a reach-around; wonder if Snowden is still in Moscow?
I think it is laughable, and very French, that yellow vests only clog Parisian boulevards on weekends, as they have to work. Picket lines at the GWCC, and @warehouse where my dear old Dad was a captain, were like that. I remember when all of Poland went out on strike, and "Solidarnosc!" entered the conversation. I spent four long years in a non-union apprenticeship, suggested by an old redneck @BAT. At one point, there was a 'hearing' and I was to be booted from the program. I invited this old bureaucrat to sit in on it, as a concerned observer. Problem solved. Repercussions loomed however. After a series of job interviews 'they' referred me to[where the member-contractor had already agreed not to hire me], I went to IBEW to seek their help. The union organizers sent me to a job site, they were targeting[in order to get at union members working there], where I was quickly hired at journeyman wage. I'd give those 'slugs' a dose of vitriol, as I was going in about 7:45 AM. Then I'd pocket the sign-in sheets, when I got upstairs[40th floor], and secreet them to the organizers. When that job ended, I returned to the Fox stage, a wiser man.
1988 Democratic National Convention in Atlanta at The Omni & GWCC. Just miles & miles of cables running between those two facilities. Seemed rather weak. The bridge/turnaround between The Omni & GWCC. FBI labor racketeering agent Brian Hitt on the scene with with his team of covert cam-ops and the audio squad with their shotgun mics. It's all well documented in the FBI & GBI archives, but you can't find dick about it on the internet. It's as though only one low-rent food workers union was the only union to apply any (laughable) pressure on the DNC in 1988. I will say this, whoever came up with the idea to oil the up-ramp to the bridge/turnaround from Int'l Blvd to the Omni was a fuckin' genius.
there were live feeds from convention hall to CNN secured to the bottom of that bridge; another fuckin' genius made some air-gaps interrupt the video; some kinda stones, huh?
From what I hear, there were several instances of air-gapping the cable runs. ;) Must have been just a series of unfortunate accidents.
probably slipped on that slippery slope, with a sharp cutting-tool inhand; unfortunate indeed
RUNNING for a Congressional Office builds up a momentum; a physical movement towards certain achievements, related to specific ISSUES, that should never be interrupted, by a 2-, 4- or 6-year rest period. Learning how to draft enduring legislation, need not involve years slaving away in some accredited law school. YOU can acquire the necessary skills in a fairly brief span of study-time. You must begin, by reading as many 'representative samples' as you can obtain. You could limit the documents to be thoroughly parsed, to the kinds dealing specifically with the ISSUE you have chosen to focus your efforts on. Your problem, initially, will be expanding your vocabulary enough to be clearly understood, once you enter the writing phase that will follow. Certain traditional 'forms' should be employed during this second phase. Phase three begins, when you furnish copies of your document to qualified confidants, for their opinions regarding certain changes that should be made, forecasting prospects for successful passage of such legislation or suggestions about how courts might reinterpret aspects of any resulting LAW's. For this, you need e-mail addresses for serving Congressmen, judges currently on the appropriate bench and affected business entities that can refer your inquiry to a battery of litigators. Replies to your inquiries will almost certainly indicate certain adjustments to your output that would be advisable. Phase four involves giving credit for the introduction of your BILL, to some ranking member of Congress, that has publicly attached himself to your ISSUE, in order to get himself elected. Previously unaddressed ISSUEs are somewhat problematical in this regard, but can be advanced by celebrities, clergymen and struggling local politicians that are 1)not camera shy, & 2)looking for a powerful issue to which they might attach themselves. More e-mail addresses will most likely be required. My ISSUE was pension administration, and it was very unpopular. I did considerable research, to be sure that I had my facts straight. I collected a plethora of e-mail addresses. I wrote a speech, and practiced before a mirror while timing myself, until I could, basically, read forcefully, everything that I had written, in less than 15 minutes. The facts I was pointing out, never made opinions change very much, but did garner me a lot of attention that had not existed before. I became "Chicken Little," delivered my speech years before my time and eventually, was proved right, when the sky indeed fell. About 700 participants, in my defined benefit pan, were adversely affected.
An ACT OF CONGRESS is not always the creation of a LAW. Often, these 'acts' invite some Administrative Agency to enact new LAW's, or otherwise ENFORCE certain specified REGULATIONS. Such LEGISLATION, must be carefully & unambiguously worded. Most of our 20th century Congressmen, though many of them were indeed trained litigators, were either unable to write the legislation they 'introduced,' or indisposed in some way to do so. Sometimes large staffs of competent individuals get the job of creating a BILL, while often obliged to adhere to instructions given them, to keep in mind, always, that whatever is introduced, cannot be awfully objectionable to the majority political party, in either end of the domed Capitol building. Another source for these craftily-worded proposals is the legal staff, maintained by some powerful business or political entity, whose well-paid lobbyist will deliver the carefully prepared 'suggestion,' at a steak dinner, over an expensive bottle of wine. In the 21st century, 'diversity' among the freshmen/women arriving in Congress every two years, often means that even more of the BILL's that we hear about will have been outsourced. In fact, the ability to read/comprehend proposed legislation, is also in rapid decline, and so the advice from adequately trained staff members grows in its influence, and its importance to the constituency. When you complain that some desirable change in your current situation would require an Act of Congress, you have unconsciously ceded your own ability to be effective, to myriad third parties with agendas that are often going to prove quite toxic. STOP WHINING! First, remove the most glaring ambiguities from that internal expression of your most fervent desires. Get help if that is what you need. Then, ACT... like Congress. Or maybe that should read, "like Congress should be capable of doing, willing to do & adequately prepared to do."
my sign-in/homepage @mail.com was the fist thing that I saw this AM, after a full boot-up[& ditching that cloud] went into that little gear-box yesterday, and while I was changing a few things, I asked a few questions & paid those Firefox folks a visit too there's even some research on MS & that sell-out to Google[fukkin Chrome-enablers] oops! there's an APP Explorer update notification[@taskbar]; WTF did that shit come from[I don't do APP!] there's some flamin' MS news thingy keeps me apprised whenever there are 'significant developments' RE:the Mueller investigations not too annoying, and that's how I found out about the 'big' earthquake the other day[4.7 in TN/GA] have you been reading about Jesse & Fred? I also wrote/posted something about the reveered Booksie Guy[founder/moderator] this prompted the evil Dr. Acula to kick me out of his publishing 'house' of 1000 horrors[had to move 4 'books' to QWERTY QUORUM] house-cleaning a sure sign that 1)I'm hitting a nerve, & 2)there's NAZI's @Booksie.com that deserve a little more attention trying to be subtle, & really do try to suppress MY trolling tendencies I'm up pretty early this AM, & lookin' forward to a SPAM-sammy for breakfast egg salad came out great, & there's still 8 eggs in the fridge 4more eggs are relatively cheap, so gettin' out my portable kitchen worth all the trouble & upset my theater-sound in disarray[but still available in a pinch] Miss Universe was a Filipina; I thought NEPAL had the best eye candy[in the top 20]; Miss Ecuador[eliminated earlier still] was HOT! Eagles squeaked past Rams last night; lot of spoilers in the mix this season[go Chiefs] Mariota's on Saturday[?]; some screwy holiday scheduling BS I wonder how my Thunder will fare, when B-ball takes over the only sports event awareness I had while in Vegas, was brother-in-law's phone call during Masters taunting PV about Tiger in AZ, it was Churchhill Downs here, the natives get restless[& loud] during March Madness and NBA playoffs I'm the lone holdout for the fukkin World Series that's all I have on sports
There's so much movie and TV work going on that the wonder girl is frazzled and looked about shot-out. Tuck sez they work 12 - 14 hour days 5 or 6 days a week. She programs lighting systems for the industry. Naturally we didn't just talk "banjo". Mostly she just explained all the different stuff she has going on.
TUCK needs WYSIWYG; design the lighting from home
Whaaaaaaaaaat? Gay musicians...un-fucking-heard of!!! Those shoes are just screaming "what a 'mo."
in high school, I wore the world's first pair of bright orange saddle oxfords; what was that screaming?
You wore 'em, you tell me. ;)
my Grandfather was a painter[both of houses & portraits], and on one of his visits when I was a child, he had returned from a job with a bit of dark brown in a can; I'm in the backyard with Joe, watching him organize all the shit piled in the trunk of his old beater; he sees that there is enough of the viscous remnant, and begins stirring with a broad pig-bristle brush; then, with a brushfull of shiny brown possibility, he throws his foot up onto his rear bumper, and applies a generous coating to his paint-speckled brogans[sock & all]; I guess it made an impression; Mods & Rockers were changing fashions and orange saddle oxfords seemed apropos to getting with it; they were my most comfortable pair[I had five pairs of saddle oxfords; a different look for each day in the school-week], and were badly scuffed from wear; I FIXED THEM! I was already queer-bait, so flamboyant footwear only added the faintest shout to already broadcast "come hither's"
if Mexico were to fund & build a wall on their northern border, they could design & control any gates thought necessary Canada could come to this same brilliant conclusion, but have a much longer border to their south USofA would quickly become a 'backwater' & learn some diplomacy Abe[not Lincoln] has decided to add a state-of-the-art aircraft carrier to their somewhat modest self-defense force's naval arsenal I can't wait to see it sailing proudly upon the China Sea those Russians, allowed to continue their occupation of Japanese territory in the 1965 treaty, better look out Abe could pull a 'Thatcher' on their ass[still claiming self-defense] Modi will not let this important development go unobserved Aussies could use any help coming from both these Asian-Pacific naval assets all that ocean water makes a poor border-wall Philippines & Indonesia could be taking sides soon, and they represent major populations that produce surplus foods on DEC 21, Antarctica will be at the peak of their summer thaw, and we should start seeing some scary video from down that way South America is fast becoming a bigger wild card than Africa Panama will need two[very short] border-walls; they could get whatever they need from Home Depot Online I'm fixing to adjourn long enough to grate some boiled eggs & craft myself a sandwich I had Special K for breakfast[at 1:08 PM]
not so long ago, Japan had the most avid/affluent collectors of vintage guitars like the market for fresh tuna, they kinda became spoilers[unless you are a seller]
Japan was, at one time, made the best guitars you could buy outside of the US. Nowadays, with computer assisted design, and CNC milling machines almost any putz with a few thousand dollars to spare can be in the business of making precision, high quality guitars. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b4bbUaqwTlk
Japan also distills the world's highest quality Scotch. whassup w/dat?
So, you pair that CNC mill (with which one can also mill metal parts) with a computer, and a 3D printer, and I'm sure that ones ability to fabricate virtually anything becomes reality. Whoa. Hold on there, buckaroo. What about Mr. Retailer and his market-locked semi-monopoly selling copyrighted and patented products? DIGITAL RIGHTS MANAGEMENT...
NAMM was a wonderland, where competing instrument manufacturers got a very expensive opportunity for exposure. Some very well-attended guest artist performances at GWCC come to mind. Who plays your instrument is really the price-driver, and the actually-played instrument catapulted into the price-paid stratosphere! That auction you mentioned, could become a venue for one of these recognizable artists from the Athens music-scene. Have him or her[maybe them] play all your inventory, right before the bidding begins. Let the artist auction off the companion signatures, for the cause. Am I getting through here?
if Siskel & Ebert were arguing about some new film that was just out, their heated discussion might drift onto PRODUCTION VALUES(only EBERT would be likely to do that); if he argued for a THUMBS UP, based on excellent production value(making a film is like telling a story; some tell the same story better), he will say nthat the film's producers used amazing cinematography(spent lots more $$$) to express several themes/ideas, where most would not have(or would not have to), & that added P.V. made the film infinitely better, more entertaining & the extra-mile techniques became like another character in the story. YOUR TASK:when you have decided upon a particular 'song' to work-up for improving the ESSENCE ACT, do a YouTube search for videos & collect all that you may find(especially the less-professional and/or amateurish looking/sounding ones that somehow got posted); next, watch them all(probably several times each) & select the best few from the batch; discuss w/band-members WHY you thought those were the best ones; you may tend toward the better sound quality or the best of the musicians; you might find that you wanted to choose one of them, not for the music, but something they did that was captured in the video, or there were close-ups of fingering that you appreciated or just that the film featured separate performers at the right change-ups. My 1st TV-production had two cameras & a switcher; it was a softball game, sponsored by 96-ROCK & Alex Cooley, played by DJ's vs. band-members from KANSAS, when they came into town for a Concert(Cooley Promoted); it drew a large & raucous crowd of KANSAS-fans to Piedmont Park one sunny afternoon, helped promote both the Concert & the radio station(while having video-production equipment/personnel at the game helped boost all the excitement); one camera was fixed on a tri-pod behind the plate(to capture pitches & swings) & the other was just past 1st-base, and could pan to follow a hit and catch the play in-field or out-(w/close-up on 1st-base action); there was just one microphone, so I put it on a tall stand w/heavy, steady base, and placed where I got an adequate feed for both Alex's play-by-play calls on the P.A., and good coverage of the crowd-reactions(and even some overheard conversations in the bleachers); it took 3 of us, cameraman on 1st to do the panning if there was a hit/play, another guy on the switcher at my truck to change from behind-the-plate coverage, to the panning view of the field, whenever he heard that sound an aluminum bat makes clobbering a softball; then, of course, I was there directing(or perhaps repositioning the mike or just speaking a fake-part as faux-fan), and could have made the spectacle even greater, if I had carried a large megaphone around & shouted-out camera/switcher cues. Things went smoothly with 3-crew, and even though cameras weren't sync-ed & each switch rolled the image, the tape we produced gave the feeling of being there with crowd/Alex/KANSAS; my BetaMax was so amazing, that when I loaned my only copy to Alex, he never returned it(but word got around about my Channel 41 Productions, because this big promoter showed it to everyone that stopped by his office om business)!!! The Production Values of the song-videos you collect and watch depends on so many different things, that it would behoove ESSENCE to thoroughly exploit as many of them as practical in their future bookings; your SHOW can be good enough to disguise any musical- or talent-shortcomings, while growing a better- or well-organized local fan-base, that by bringing more folks to your bookings will equal higher- and better-paying gigs as you mature as a group, or change-out various artists as needed.
https://www.facebook.com/oldstagehands/photos/a.1375675492750537/1375675312750555/?type=3&theater
Following a performer around with what amounts to a big flashlight sounds easy, and probably looks easy too, if you watch while it's being done. Well, it ain't; and your lack of ability is most immediately apparent to the other operators who can make those first outings tough on you if they wish. That's when those relationships first begin to pay back dividends. The lighting director will be less aware of your foibles because the angle from which he is observing is a bad one; the audience even less able to see anything of what is going on. Your buddies can cover for your short-comings, and try to talk you through the rough spots. You'd better be able to take a ration of good-natured ribbing about it too! Watching an experienced operator while the show is going on is one of the best ways to get a heads-up on many of the subtleties that can take years to acquire. If you show the proper respect to his situation, you can ask questions and get helpful answers during the show. This exchange is doubly instructive because you observe the mysterious operations while in direct correspondence to actions occurring on the stage. Sometimes the cuing is coming through a biscuit(a small portable speaker) and you see that much more clearly how his responses co-ordinate with what is taking place. The respect part is something that you must learn about too, in order to understand; when to ask your questions so that they are not bothersome, distracting or downright disastrous; being aware that the presence of the headset sometimes means others are hearing everything or aware of your presence in the booth. Few apprentice operators ever spend that much time doing this; many experienced operators are glad they don't!
Phillip DeNise: ever change the hot carbons? 3rd paragraph from PREFACE to "Work For It, Baby!":Writers are frequently counseled to write about what they know. This writer knows spotlights better than anything else he was exposed to while in his secret world. What I know about them, if taken alone, would provide the content for an exhaustive technical manual. If we begin to consider how I learned what I know, a process then becomes the subject of the manual. Describing that process is most naturally facilitated by making constant reference to actual experiences that I had while learning to operate this specific piece of equipment.
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I seldom write about travel, and when I do, it’s only about spectacular experiences. I have never written about misadventures that caused so much anxiety and grief that I wonder why we carried on when things started to go wrong. But when you have such an experience that lasted from the time of beginning the journey to the very end, and beyond, I thought on the hindsight, it was an adventure worth remembering, even though we were not that amused when it all happened.
It began when we started our journey to France on a mid-June Monday. We had already moved from our Kent home, so we stayed overnight in Ramsgate. In the morning, as we left for the ferry from Dover, it was a last minute dash because of the roadworks along the way. As we were waiting for the ferry, I realised we forgot to book the European breakdown cover. I made a last minute frantic call to the breakdown provider (I had three covers those days, don’t ask me why and how!) and selected an option that was slightly high priced but provided more cover. To be honest, that was the best last minute call I’ve ever made; if I hadn’t done that, we probably had had to come back without the car. So with the breakdown sorted, we set sail on the way to our destination, Normandy. We planned what we’d do each day, and had a busy schedule ahead but we were sure that we were going to have a great time. Only if we knew what lay ahead of us.
Here, I’d flashback to the week before we started our journey. I was on M25 on my way home and I suddenly felt the car lost all its power. As if it went into a limp mode. The car was only over a year old, so you don’t expect a major fault to develop. The breakdown mechanic couldn’t fix it, but he reset the warning light and asked to start and see if the traction is back. It worked. So I thought it was a freak incident and I must have done something to cause that. The dealer could not have a look in such a short notice, so we decided to carry on with the plans and get the car fixed later.
Coming back to 20th of June, we did the usual. On reaching Calais, a trip to Adinkerke to buy cheap tobacco and Speculoos, a quick trip to Carrefour Mivoix and late lunch at the McDonalds there. With all that done and a cranky terrible two, we headed for belle Normandie. Except that we were running a bit late and looked like we wouldn’t get to the campsite before 8:30 pm. It was a long drive but that never bothered us. Not until the things started to go wrong very quickly. We were approaching Boulogne-sur-mer on A16 where the road goes on an incline. It’s not steep by any means, but the car generally needs to work harder. Whilst on that section, the car lost power again! Second time within a week. I exactly knew what went wrong when the engine warning flashed on the dashboard. It made me panic a bit. A breakdown on a foreign country is a terrifying prospect, let alone that happening on the autoroute meant we’d have to pay highway authority the fees to be towed away from the autoroute. So I decided to carry on driving at 50mph until we reached the next exit. Thankfully it was a country road and I carried on driving for a while before we stopped on the verge. My satnav said it’s a place called Beuvrequin. I remember the place we stopped, with houses on the right and the other side of the road, had vast fields.
Beuvrequin, verge/footpath where we stopped
Beuvrequin, view on the other side of the road
After we calmed down our crying daughter, upset that the holiday might not go ahead, I called the breakdown agency. I reported the breakdown and was told that the wait time is about 45 mins. Being parked on the pavement by a country road was not the best of the places, especially getting stares from people who had to go on the grass. A few minutes later, I received a call from the French contact from the breakdown company, telling me that they cannot send assistance because during my application I said we’ll be going to Belgium and then France. So, tow away will have to come from Belgium, and they don’t to towing across borders. Infuriated and anxious, I called the UK number, and after explaining the situation, they said we should get assistance and they will arrange with the French colleagues. Another 15 min later, which is almost an hour since I was told that the assistance is 45 min away, I received another call from the French number saying they are sending breakdown van and it’ll be coming around 5:45 pm. By then, I doubted any garage will be open.
The breakdown truck arrived slightly earlier than we were told. As expected, the mechanic didn’t know a word of English. I thought that would be ideal to practice my French. I probably would have, if I knew all technical terms. I didn’t even know what brakes are called. Anyway, the guy picked the car on his truck and asked us to go in the truck to the garage. I think that was the highlight of the day and my daughter loved travelling in a truck. We went to a garage in Boulogne-sur-mer. He met another colleague who had a computer to connect to the engine management system. They decided that it’s beyond their knowledge and learning that the car was under warranty, they said the work can only be done in an Opel garage. By that time we gave up our hope to get the car fixed that day because it was already nearly 6 pm. The mechanic said he’ll take us to their garage to keep the car overnight and we can arrange the taxi pick-up from the garage. We were offered a replacement car or stay in a hotel and get the car looked at the next morning. I was confident that it’ll just be resetting the alarm and we’ll be able to drive on. So we chose the hotel and waited at the garage. The taxi came around 6:30 pm to take us to the hotel in Boulogne.
Hardy Maurice garage Source: https://www.ville-stleonard.fr
Hotel ALexandra in Boulogne
The hotel was pleasant and it was located close to Boulogne city centre. We walked down to a square called Place Dalton and had a nice dinner, trying to forget the headache we’re about to have the following day. The following day we had nothing to do but wait for the updates from the breakdown company. So we were just cooped up in the room. About 9 am we received a call saying that the breakdown garage will take the car to the nearest Opel garage. I thought it would be done in minutes, so our hopes of having our holiday soared high again. But that state of euphoria didn’t last long as a follow up at 11 am confirmed that the car was still in the garage. The agent said she’ll call me back shortly. When she did, it was even worse news. Opel garage was fully booked and they wouldn’t be able to fix it before Wednesday or even Thursday. At that point, we thought we’d had enough and started thinking of cancelling the holiday and go back home. As a last ditch attempt, we demanded a replacement car. After waiting another 10 minutes for a callback, we were told that our only chance was if we left the hotel immediately because the car hire place they use will be shut from 12 pm. It was already getting towards 11:30 am. So we picked all our tonnes of luggage, waiting for the taxi. Then the taxi dropped us at the wrong place, which meant we had to drag all our luggage and a toddler across a busy junction without crossings. When we arrived at the Enterprise Cars office, there was only one employee, waiting for us. It took another half an hour to get sorted. But in the end, we had our car.
Boulogne Rue Adolph Thier
Boulogne Place Dalton
Boulogne Place Dalton
I wish our story could end here, but it wasn’t unfortunately. Our understanding of the breakdown cover was that we get the hire car until the time we are ready to return to Boulogne on our way back. On Wednesday afternoon, as we’re exploring the American war memorial in Colleville-sur-mer, I received a call from the breakdown company that our car was fixed and they want the hire car back. Shouting or swearing is normally my cup of tea, but if I lost my temper that day, I’d expect people would have sympathised with me. I kept my calm but said that they are expecting me to make a 600 km journey because they screwed up a breakdown repair. It also seemed like the day of our return, Saturday, is only for the Car buyers at the Opel garage and the repairs department is shut. I was told very sternly to go back on Friday to which I refused, agreeing to pay the difference for an additional day of car hire. Half an hour later, I received another call that the garage had been very understanding and made a very rare exception of opening the repair garage on Saturday.
With the good news that the car was fixed and that we can get on with rest of the holiday, we felt relaxed then and enjoyed the rest of the days. Except the fact that Normandy is where it rains most in France and it rained really bad the week we went there. Unlike previous caravan holidays, we opted for tent that time, and the floor was filled with water because of the leaks in the floor sheet. We spent most of our stay in the tents mopping the floor, wet feet, soaked trainers and a damp tent. Despite this little inconvenience, I felt the time in Normandy was much more enriching than in Paris. Just when we were about to enjoy the holiday, having lost nearly two days, it was over and it was time to come home.
We started with plenty of time in hand, thinking of collecting the car early so we could go to the cheap wine store in Calais. We got to the Enterprise Car place at about 12. But then we realised that they are shut in Saturdays and we needed to drop the keys at a hotel opposite the car hire place, past the big junction. Les Gens de Mer — the hotel looked quite nice as we browsed the lobby and menu while we waited for the taxi. The taxi arrived late, and we were on our way to the Opel garage near Outreau where our car was getting repaired. When we got there, the manager said everything was done and they are getting the car ready. It did surprise me a bit because the car was ready on Thursday. We waited nearly 45 minutes before we were given the keys. We were at the last minute rush again, trying to get cheap fuel from Carrefour and head for the ferry. That was the beginning of another nightmare journey.
Hotel Les Gens de Mer Source: Agoda.com
As we headed back to Calais, I noticed that the tyre pressure warning sign came on. I was not too worried at the beginning, because sometimes if one tyre had less pressure than the others, the sign came on. But as we went closer to Calais, I started to get more and more worried as the pressure kept on dropping. When the other tyres read 38 psi, the fourth tyre was at 25 psi. There must have been a leak, I thought. But where would that have happened? The car has always been at the breakdown garage or at the Opel garage. Did they just find out and handed me a car with a leak? Surely they can’t be that unscrupulous! But everything signed that way.
So we went back to Carrefour, filled the tank and put some air in the faulty tyre thinking it might have some problem that’s going to fix itself. When we boarded the ferry, I left the car with 35 psi on the tyre and hoping that it should stay like that when we reached the UK. 90 minutes later when we came down to the deck, I couldn’t believe my eyes. The tyre was completely flat. And we had landed as well, so we didn’t have any time to change the tyre. It was a Saturday afternoon and most of the garages would have been shut by 4 pm.
Now I made a faux pas at that moment. I had the option to come off the ferry and get the tyre changed with the spare tyre. We could have then driven home because our spare tyre is a full spec one and there is no speed restriction. Silly me, I didn’t remember that at the moment of madness when I thought if I take too long changing the tyre, and something else is wrong, I might lose the last chance to get home that night. So I decided to drive on to the next open garage, which was Kwik-fit. As I drove on the alloy wheel, the sharp and annoying screeching deafened our ears despite the windows were up. I was worried that there will be damage to the wheel as well but it was a relief that there wasn’t.
Kwik-fit changed the tyre straight away and we also got another tyre which was getting towards the legal limit. After that, we hit the road, hoping to get some dinner at Bluewater or Lakeside, places that we used to visit often but missed a lot when we moved. After a filling dinner, with our daughter falling asleep in the car, we finally felt that after all this, the holiday is coming to an end. But there are more twist in the tale that one can imagine. Just because everything had to go wrong on that trip, as we were on M6 nearing Coventry, my daughter woke up and started crying. We didn’t want to stop, being so close at home, and as I tried to accelerate harder, BANG! The engine warning light came back on and the car won’t speed beyond 50 mph. The sting in the tail that was waiting for us before we reached home. So all that fuss at the Opel garage, did they do sod all apart from puncture the tyre? Nevertheless, my daughter’s incessant crying made me carry on rather than stop and ask for another breakdown. I just pushed the pedal down and used the downward slopes on the road to speed up and use the momentum to drive the car at a higher speed as the road became flat or went up. Without much difficulty, we reached home, bringing a close to the worst travel experiences we ever had.
Like many stories have an epilogue to the end, the tale of our misfortunes does not end there. I had to take many days off as I was unable to commute to work while getting the car fixed. Back then, I was doing a commute of 300 miles! During next few days, the car was repaired, and the fault reappeared almost immediately at times. In the end, it took a call to their grievance line to report the issue to get the technical team involved, who sorted the problem. One of those days when the car was broken down, I had to hire a car to go to a meeting in London. There, as I was trying to get on the Hammersmith bridge, I was caught at the box junction and was fined £70. Now the car belonging to the hire company, they received the fine notice first. By the time I received it, I couldn’t appeal online, so I had to send it over email. I then got the email address wrong and was then facing a court action since the first notice was received much earlier and the normal 2 weeks response window had gone. This dragged on until November. So nearly 5 months after that week in June, we put an end to the dreadful journey, but before that end, I had to pay out the final amount which had since doubled.
So, there we are, our story ends here. Terrible experience to sum it up. And I believe we won’t forget it very soon. Yet, the good memories will last longer. Visit to Utah, Omaha and Juno beaches, our daughter’s excited walk in the sand, the American war memorial and its deafening silence at Colleville-Sur-mer, the Bayeux tapestry, Caen, beautiful village of Beauvron-en-auge, riviera of the north Deauville and Trouville-Sur-mer, surreal grace of Lisieux abbey, sunrise over the trees at our site in the middle of nowhere at Château Le Brévedent, the quaint villages Le Pin and Blangy-le-château near our campsite, the bridge at Le Havre — the memories are countless and one day, if not already, they will outweigh the dreadful experience about the journey.
Just as I finished this with a positive spin, I remembered to add one last note about our holiday from hell. The year this happened was 2016, and I guess we all know what happened that year between 20th and 25th June. Yes, Brexit. That happened while we were on this holiday as well. Before we left, we were all confident that it was just a paper exercise to finish off UKIP, and in fact felt smug to see the smiles disappear from the leavers’ faces. On 24th when the results came out, we were going to Trouville-sur-mer. The entire day was spent in disbelief, then frustration and then anger, as all the lies started to surface. Brexit was the pinnacle of the catastrophes that week and I believe it was symbolised by everything that went wrong with the car. It was a nightmare, getting a simple thing done took forever, service on both sides of the border was equally appalling, and above all, since it happened, things were never the same. You live in fear that things will go wrong again, and so it did. The car proved my premonitions, and Brexit will go the same way. I think there will be a time in future where all good and terrible memories will fade away, and we will remember the journey just as our own Brexit disaster. I think that should say it all.
Holiday from hell — journal of a misadventure I seldom write about travel, and when I do, it’s only about spectacular experiences. I have never written about misadventures that caused so much anxiety and grief that I wonder why we carried on when things started to go wrong.
#Beuvrequin#Boulogne-sur-mer#Breakdown#Brexit#Car#Europcar#France#Limp mode#Maurice Hardy#nightmare#Opel#recovery#repair#Travel#UK#Vauxhall
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What NOT to do on Christmas Eve...
It would appear that the best way to get Oscar home is to ensure he can’t get into the house. Typical. It would also appear my numptyness knows no bounds. And my neighbours aren’t all THAT curtain-twitchy after all….especially after midnight.
It goes like this….
So, it’s Christmas Eve. Another busy, busy day, trying to cram as many things in as possible. With the new job taking up so much time and energy, this Christmas hasn’t been my usual, organised-to-within-an-inch-of-its-life affair. Today – Boxing Day – is the day I finally get to do my Christmas cards. Yes, it’s been THAT disorganised.
But, back to Christmas Eve, and I’ve been a shade of blue for a goodly chunk of the day – fretting about and missing Oscar.
He’s been VERY scarce of late and, as I’m still waiting on his replacement tracker (my fault – haven’t had the time to get it sorted), I’m back to wondering whether he’s moved out and I’m now just a ‘stop’ on his route as he goes for evening wanders. He has been popping by for something to eat but hasn’t been finishing it…and then wanting out immediately afterward. Getting quite shouty if I try to keep him in. So, no sign of him many a night and day.
Even nights spent on the couch waiting for him have just resulted in disappointment. And it’s been jolly cold at night too; adding to my growing belief that he’s got a second home.
That said, he had come home one evening in the wee hours and I’d been too fast asleep to hear him. I do sleep VERY well on the couch….
He’d clearly come in with a bad tummy, threw up – then left.
Woke up in the morning thinking he’d left me a dead mouse but as I looked closer I realised it was sick….a big black lump of furball and something else. Closer examination revealed stringy elastic. A LOT of it all tangled up. On the one hand, I was relieved it was now on my floor instead of in his stomach but, on the other hand, I’m now worrying about what he’s scavenging on whilst he’s out there!
Further adding to my worries about him not coming home.
Back from the annual Christmas Eve Curry with Sean and his family, I’m pottering around the house. Essentially, staying up as late as possible in the hope Osc will come home. He’s been gone for over 36 hours at this point. Just before midnight, I decide to wait up for him/sleep on the couch.
It does worry me, sleeping on the couch and leaving the conservatory door open for him to come home. Anyone, technically, could just walk in. I keep the sliding door closed – but I’ve never worked out how to lock it.
So Christmas Eve, nearly midnight with a few glasses on wine on me, I decide to try work out how to lock the sliding door, don’t I?
And being short, this involves a lot of stretching to reach the mechanism.
I wiggle the latch-thingy about a little bit then give it a jolly good push.
“Click!”
…..oh, gosh…HURRAH! It’s locked! THAT’S how you do it! Fab!
Try to unlock it. Er…nope. It’s not that simple. It doesn’t just unlock, it seems.
Now fiddling some more, standing on tip-toes. Try this combination with that other sliding bit. No. Try pulling that bit. Try pulling that bit a little bit HARDER. Try pulling that bit even HARDER and swearing a little bit.
Right, I think. This clearly doesn’t have a simple unlock mechanism. It must require a key. Right. Where’d I put the key, then?
I couldn’t figure out how to use the lock when I moved in (3 years ago) so I’d clearly put the key somewhere safe. I go hunting around trying to find the key. Not in any of the obvious places.
I try the sliding door lock again. Pulling on the latch even HARDER and making unpleasant comments about its parentage.
I sigh.
And spot the bunch of house keys in the conservatory door lock. Ah. Now I remember where the key for the sliding door is. On that bunch. On the other side of the locked sliding door.
Oh for….
I sigh even louder. To get the bunch of keys won’t be too much of a drama, really – in the morning. I’d just have to go out the front door, ROUND the houses to the back alley, along through the overgrown weeds and stuff, force the back gate into the garden, take the keys out the conservatory door and then retrace my steps through to the front of the house. And then can try the stupid blummin’ key in the stupid blummin’ lock of the stupid, stupid, blummin’ sliding door.
I stomp around the house turning lights off and heading for the couch to sleep and wait for Osc. I’ve every faith he won’t come home anyway and, hurrah, for once, I’m SAFE sleeping on the couch because of the stupid, stupid locked sliding door.
Osc turns up just before 1am, doesn’t he?
Of COURSE he does.
He walks in with his usual meowy announcement of “I’m HOME! HELLO!”
I get up off the couch and try explain the situation to Osc through the sliding door. Yes, I’m an idiot and I’ve locked the sliding door but if he wouldn’t mind just sleeping in his hammock in the conservatory until morning light, I’ll sort the keys out and ensure he gets a super-duper slap-up brekkie. Promise.
Osc starts to get a little shouty and I keep talking through how MUCH of an idiot I am and if he’ll just be a little understanding on this occasion…
And for some unknown reason, Oscar decides he really, really, REALLY wants in. Given I’ve hardly seen hide nor hair of him for nearly two weeks, I’m somewhat taken aback by the sheer passion with which Oscar has decided he really, really, REALLY wants in….NOW! RIGHT NOW!! RIGHT, RIGHT NOW!!!!
Before long, he’s positively yelling and pacing back and forth in front of the sliding door. Then, he’s on the dining room table stomping all over the Christmas lunch vegetables I’ve left there because there’s not enough space in the fridge. Then, he’s on top of his cat tree shouting at the top of his lungs. Then, he’s back at the sliding door, paws up on the glass, stretched his full length hollering some more.
Oh my days….nothing for it.
Get the boots on, get the coat on over my jammies and get the torch out. Double check my front door keys as I head out the front door because that would just be the blummin’ cherry on top of all this, wouldn’t it?
I stomp around to the back of the houses, muttering to myself and absolutely convinced a neighbour is going to call the cops to report someone skulking around at gone one in the morning.
I try my gate. It’s only got one of those simple latch things and I lift the gate a little to try dislodge it. I’ve also got a wire coat hanger…my thinking is that I’ll be able to pull the latch up from over the other side. Only I’m way too short for this plan to work, aren’t it? No WAYS I can reach the latch even with a stretched out wire hanger.
I’m now more than a little frustrated and so just shoulder the gate. It budges off the latch quite easily and with only a minimal thud. Still, I’m standing there waiting for someone to holler that they’re calling the police.
Nothing.
I decide cunning and quiet is now probably NOT a good idea if anyone is looking out of their window. Surely, it would be best for them to realise I’m NOT a burgler? I start to wave at all the windows just in case. Osc, in the conservatory watching me walking and waving in the middle of the night is now beginning to get nervous. I panic he’s going to bolt – and I’ll not see him for the rest of the night and this’ll all be a massive waste of time and energy.
I make a crazy dash across the patio to grab the conservatory door, leap indoors and slam the door behind me, trapping Oscar in the conservatory.
Osc is a little freaked and confused and I spend a few minutes sitting on the cold floor calming him down.
Still no sirens at this stage….so I get the keys out the conservatory door, close it behind me – keeping Oscar in – then head back across the garden. Waving at the windows again. Close the gate behind me….well, can’t latch it, just pull it to….and head back through the alley keeping my torch as low as possible. Around the front of the houses and through my front door.
Drag the sitting room table up to the sliding door to be able to stand on it and spend a further 15 mins trying to get the stupid, stupid, blummin’ irritating key to work in the stupid lock. It’s one of those tube-thing keys instead of a NORMAL key. Of course, it is.
Oscar has calmed down again – or just felt more comfortable with me being on the correct side of the locked, sliding door – and has taken up his frantic hollering again.
After what felt like FOREVER, I finally unlocked the door. Blasted thing….
Osc sashays through and does his hoppy-thing. It’s really quite sweet…when he’s happy to see you, he hops up and down until you give him a cuddle.
He gets a big cuddle and then I head off and get him a BIG dinner.
Doors locked and double checked – except for the STUPID sliding door. Lights out. Exhausted, I flop onto the couch relieved I’m STILL not hearing any sirens. Relieved, but also….come ON, there’s been someone wandering around the back of the houses at ONE IN THE MORNING, PEOPLE! Forcing gates and waving at you!!
I doze off….woken as Oscar cuddles into my back. He starts to wash himself which means, given his size and weight, I’m rocked back and forth as he’s clearing out various bits of leaves and other foliage from his long fur. We both drift off about 20 minutes later.
Am so happy he’s home.
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