Lost?

Post delayed due to having to work on newsletter and such for the store. Will post later.

This is the first time I've come in this close under the gun, knowing if I stop to blog, I'll miss both deadlines!

Exhausted. But successful?

You know, I think if I were a bit worse at doing my job, I might be less stressed.

That said, my guts are better, I've dug somewhat out of the hole, and now seem to have found a backhoe as opposed to a shovel. Go me?

Today, I managed to sort through the major, uber-urgent items, but I haven't managed to get to the 'get organized' part of my plan. Still, I'm not drowning as badly as I was. Progress is progress, even it's measured in inches instead of miles.

I think I'm a bit too successful at the new job. For each thing I attempt, I create three new things to do. In terms of PR, I don't have money to work with. Let's face it - Dragon's Lair is a small business. While growing, we're not there yet. My job is to get the store exposure. My major tools? The website, my writing and my brain. Traditional PR tools for a business are advertising in various mediums and word of mouth. The problem with a niche business like Dragon's Lair in a city like Austin is that we have more competition for our niche than most niche businesses. There's only one store in town that specializes in fixing electric razors, for example. There are two or three vacuum stores in Austin, but they aren't all in the same geographic region.

However, Dragon's Lair has three direct competitors all in the same region of the city.

I can put stuff up on the website, send out a thousand newsletters, post up flyers, even get small mentions on the radio, but if no one is visiting the website, then nothing I do matters. I think the trick of it is actually going to be community. Some niche businesses have communities surrounding them, but very few are actually built around an existing community. Sure, a Janitor's Union might decide they like one vacuum store over another or a group of sharp-dressed businessmen might prefer going to the Shave Store more than buying from a large retailer, but there aren't really communities built around the use of vacuums or electric razors.

Gamers, comic book readers, manga and anime fans - these people, by their very nature, form communities. Without those communities, the interests or hobbies could not thrive. Playing games by yourself is not nearly as much fun as playing them with other people who are just as passionate about games as you are. Reading comics is fun, but discussing comics with your friends is even more fun. Same with anime and manga.

Gaming groups, comic reading clubs, manga and anime clubs - these communities exist with or without Dragon's Lair.

(Yes, Dreamsaint, the whole community thing did not escape my notice. You can stop chuckling at me anytime.)

I need word-of-mouth advertising to work for us. I need us to be a presence- a positive presence - in these communities. I need us to be the first place people think of when they think of gaming or comics or anime and manga. I need us to be the place people start and end at when it comes to providing them with the product and customer service they want. The problem with this is that Dragon's Lair is not a part of these communities. The other gaming/comcis stores? They are. They sponsor and host big events, such as Staple or their customers write internationally published and distributed gaming modules.

Why are they able to get this kind of recognition and we aren't, when we have more resouces, more longevity and more collected experience in our industry than any other store in Austin?

Because they have been able to reach out to and become a fixture of those communities.

I know some people argue that Dragon's Lair is too professional, too much like a big chain in policy and procedure and dress code, but that's a fallacy. Barnes & Noble is a major chain, but where ever they are, they are plugged in to the local community. The host signings by local authors, allow writers' groups to meet at cafes and allow writing seminars to be held in their stores. They provide a venue and support for these events, and the people who attend these events buy books and want to keep patronizing the locales that provide their particular group a place.

And big chain stores like that have smiliar policies and are even stricter about uniforms than we are.

So if both big-name chain stores and smaller gaming/comics stores can manage to do what I think we need to do, why can't we?

Inertia.

The First Law of Motion. Sir Isaac Newton defined inertia as this: A body at rest stays at rest, and a body in motion stays in motion, unless it is acted on by an external force. Dictionary.com also defines inertia as a lack of activity.

In order to correct the problem, I need to figure out why we have inertia. Why we're a body at rest instead of a dynamic force moving forward. Okay, so part of it is a lack of resources. Part of it is that we're sitting on our laurels. We're one of the oldest and most established game/comic stores in central Texas. For a long time, that's been our selling point. We're stable, we're steady, we're always here, so people can rely on us.

I like that. It's a good starting point.

It's time to get us moving again. The problem with being such a large and established presence is that getting us moving means I'm fighting physics. (Not that I haven't attempted to thwart natural laws before.)

I have to work carefully, slowly, and with great deliberation. I have to build us into communities, and I have to do it in ways that don't require money. Well, where money can open doors, so can hard work, persistence and follow-through. It's a lot of work. A commitment of time and resources.

Most of those resources are me.

Good thing I'm stubborn.

However, I think I can do this. I'm going to be going to YomiCon on Friday and I'm going to present some information to the Fandom Association of Central Texas' board on Saturday. The only snafu there is that I'm supposed to be off and spending time with Musuko.

And at some point, I'm supposed to go visit MuggleMomma to have lunch and pick up some software I need for the new computer.

The fact of the matter is that I'm able to start building these connections and integrating myself - and thus the store - into these communities and using those connections to reach out to other communities. I just hope I can actually make this work instead of falling on my face.

A lot of this is harder than I thought it would be. Some of it is easier.

I think, though, that once I dig myself out of the hole I'm in that I'll be able to do more than just frantically keep up. I'll be able to be more pro-active than I am now, and I'll be able to start integrating the San Antonio store into their communities. First, I have to figure out what communities there are in San Antonio and contacting them.

There's so much work ahead of me that it's daunting, but I can't tackle it all at once. I have to take it one thing at a time, one process at a time, and I have to get organized so I don't drop the balls I'm juggling.

That's my current goal. To get myself set up so I can juggle more, better, faster. I have to have an infrastructure to support what I want to create.

On a different note, I switch back to religion for a moment. Just a random moment in time that left me shaking my head in wonder at how God works. The Men's Lab at the Well has just started reading Wild At Heart by John Eldredge. I took one of the store cats to the vet today, and was reading the book while I was waiting for him to come see the kitty.

When he came in, he noticed the book! Not only is the vet a Christian, but he's probably fairly close to the Wellian ethic (if such a word can be applied to our way of doing things). He wants to chat a bit about the book when I finish it (he's apparently recommended the book to a lot of men he knows). I think I'm looking forward to that chat. That's a relationship I never expected God to work on, especially not like that!

Considering how much resistance we've had to starting the study, I'm not surprised God started using it within ten minutes of my starting to read the book. I wasn't actually going to participate in the study, mostly because I feel out of place at the Men's Lab, but after getting a prod from the Holy Spirit and having my father, of all people, ask me if I was going to participate and then seeing firsthand how much resistance there was to us doing this, I had to take part.

If only because thumbing my nose at anything that tells me 'you can't do this' is really an avocation for me.

(I was serious before: when dealing with serious Christians, you either have to decide we're crazy or decide we're on to something.)

Though I still have no real idea how I'm going to dig myself out of this hole and accomplish the things I want to accomplish for myself, I think it's at least possible for me to do so now.

Hey two posts in a row with actual content. Who saw that one coming? (And this one didn't even have bullet points. I almost miss them!)

Because failure is not an option

Bullet points, because they work so well. And I'm a fan of lists. One of these days, I promise to write real entries with real content that might have some relevance to me other than venting the pressure cooker that is my brain.

• My innards have issued their demands for my surrender, most of which appear to be a drastic change in diet. I think I am going to have to quit soda almost completely, at least for awhile. Tea, water and juice appear to be all I can drink if I want to not have issues. Also, eating more than tiny amounts of food (not even a regular-sized meal!) sets my guts off. I think this is a combination of a stomach bug and stress. I haven't ever had a reaction to stress like this, but I also haven't been this far behind at Dragon's Lair before.
  
  I know what this is. I thought I had avoided this fate. I'm nearly 30 and it hadn't struck me down yet. But it runs in both families. It was inevitable, I suppose. I mean, I got most of the other bad genes, why not IBS, too?
  


• The new laptop is the first new computer I have owned in five years. Transitioning to a new PC has been harder than I thought it would be, mostly because I have fine-tuned my old machine to the point where it's all set up perfectly for me. There's more sentimental attachment to this old machine than I thought I had, too. I almost feel guilty putting it out to pasture and switching to the new computer, but I know it's necessary. Although this old laptop can keep trucking for awhile yet, I think I'd feel guilty if I worked it to death. Odd, the kind of attachments people develop, isn't it?


• Musuko is coming into town at the end of this week. This is made of awesome and win.

Have I mentioned I'm behind on a LOT of things I need to do? This isn't just stuff I want to do, these are things I need to do. I have utterly failed at my job this week, more than I ever have at this job. I can't do that. I can't be like all the other people who have been promoted into awesome positions at the store and then developed fail. I won't be like them. I refuse.

I don't think I've even talked about my new position at work yet, but after whining about how far behind I am for the past four days, I think it's an overdue blog.

So! Storytime!

When I first started at Dragon's Lair, I had trouble getting into the groove. I was part-time and I don't do well part-time; I prefer working full-time, because I feel like I actually get things accomplished. I had left the pool job, was going to ACC, and my training at the new job was practically non-existent. I would say that for most of my first 90 probationary period, I was unsure about the job and they were unsure about me. I was asking a lot of questions, all the time. I was asking how and what and when and where and who and most importantly why. I wasn't sure I was comfortable with the store manager - AB - because she seemed to be very quiet, where the other two managers, PB and JK were very loud and vocal and present.

PB was my trainer. He's an awesome guy. He's the guy everyone, even me, wants to hang out with. He is one of the three or four most charismatic people I've ever met. He's smart, attractive, very fit and is able to talk about anything to anyone for any length of time. He own any conversation he's a part of, and is pretty much the most brilliant salesman I've ever met. He's also one of the worst teachers I've ever had. He was a Marine until circumstances forced him to leave the Corps. He threw me into the deep end with barely any training. He would give me a sketchy outline of what needed to be done and then leave me to my own devices.

I found out later that some of this was because there was no established procedures for a lot of things and that I was starting on the heels of a major personnel upheaval. The store was in some serious flux and most of the institutional knowledge had left. Not only that, the people I was replacing were the kind of people you don't want doing more than mopping floors under close supervision.

Now, I'm a smart guy. Once I realized that the lack of direction and supervision wasn't going to change, I had to change tactics. My last few jobs had taught me how to deal with micromanagement and exacting expectations from very present and involved management. Since Dragon's Lair was the exact opposite, I realized I couldn't count on my bosses to help me out. I started doing things my own way. I could say I took the initiative, but that sounds too self-promoting for what I was doing. I was trying to swim in the deep end of a business I didn't understand. I knew role-playing games, had a sketchy knowledge of comics, and absolutely no knowledge of miniature gaming, let alone the artistic side of miniatures. I had a growing knowledge of manga and anime, mostly in terms of finding out how much of it I really, really didn't like.

I'm horrible at math, and was expected to do some important money-math every time I closed out a register I was barely trained on.

So I did what I'm best at. I read. I read every comic I could get my hands on. I spent hours on wiki learning about the things I didn't know, so I could function with them. I read the help files on the point-of-sale program, which I found on the internets.

Without direction, I took the daily checklist as the Holy Writ and spent hours every day dusting, straightening and sorting the store until I could tell you where something was without looking. Whenever I got the chance, I got customers to talk my ears off about their favorite games, comics and manga.

And like I said, I asked questions. I discovered who could and would answer questions and who wouldn't. The manager I had been least comfortable with I discovered was anything but soft. Instead, I discovered a retail chess master - the Grand Admiral Thrawn of comic and games stores. Quietly, with a nudge here and a nudge there, she was shifting us all into positions and duties where we were best suited. She and LR, the office manager, would answer my questions with endless patience and with as much information as even my vast brain could hold.

In essence, I got trained by the highest levels at Dragon's Lair and came to even more realizations. PB and JK were dropping the ball, on a regular basis, when it came to the clerks. AB had noticed this too and quickly promoted slim_frame to manager. slim_frame is small, fierce and one of the best managers I've known. Where AB is quiet and nudges, slim_frame pushes and jabe and gets in your face about things.

By the time my first 90 days were up, I realized how little structure there was for clerks, mostly because of the previous management. So, I cheated. Everyone knew I AB and LR were telling me how they wanted things done. I just started telling everyone else that the way I was doing it was the way it was supposed to be done. Most of the time, I was just repeating what AB was telling me, but some of the time, I was creating systems and organizational structure on my own, applying my gift for organizing chaos. (A gift, which, it pains me to admit, I got from my mother.)

That got noticed.

AB started giving me additional duties. First, it was handling returns - sending damaged and overaged product back to distributors. I was asked to run a few errands here and there. Then I was asked to take over shipping. Somewhere in there, I staged a coup and got to take over newsletter. JK was doing it, but he's not a writer. I pointed out to AB that some customers had complained to me that the newsletter was full of errors and fail, and she basically said: "if you think you can do better, then do it."

I did.

Over the course of a year, I refined and changed newsletter. I still have more I want to do with it. Same with the website. Somewhere in there, I ended up becoming a training mentor and the Opener five days a week. As my job duties changed, I've ended up working a Monday - Friday schedule that is generally set around the 9-5 model.

Recently, I went to AB and basically told her I was thinking about leaving the store, because I wasn't making much money and was feeling like there wasn't potential for advancement. I wasn't needed as a manager (and wasn't sure I wanted to be a manager), but I wanted more. The stuff I would be really good at, the PR, is outsourced for the most part.

AB and I had a long talk and she basically promoted me from clerk to webmaster. I have more control over the web page, more time to promote the store online and in venues our outsourced PR person can't or won't promote us through. I also get to run most of the errands, and visit the San Antonio store.

I have more time to focus on shipping and returns and all the other duties I had been assigned. Like when I first started, there's not a lot of official direction - I have a set of goals and things I know AB wants, but it's up to me to create it and make it happen. It's up to me to make this work.

This is a rare opportunity for a guy without a degree. To be able to work PR and web for a successful, established business and to create my own niche job and job duties. I can define what my position at the store is and show them how many ways I can be useful.

Only this past week? I've dropped the ball. Partially because I'm sick. Mostly because I'm sick. And partially there are some bumps in the road in terms of transitioning to the new position; my co-workers, many of whom I have trained, are used to me being out on the floor, on register and able to back them up. I'm still able to back them up and available as a resource - after all, customers always come first. Dragon's Lair is what it is because of our customer service. However, as I'm moving into the new job, I realize how much some of my co-workers take what I did for granted. They're used to me being there at 9am to open the store and being on register...so if they're not there exactly at 10am for the first shift, it's oaky. Because I would be there.

If they wanted to wander off and talk to friends or work on projects that take all shift, that's okay, because I was there. I can man the front, help the customers, do my own duties. the checklist, and whatever the managers had for us that day all by myself. If there was a rush of customers, I would always call them up to the register and let them go back to their project when things slowed back down. I could always be counted on to skip my break to make sure someone else got theirs. I could always be counted on to schedule breaks, make sure everyone got everything done, and keep things flowing at the front. I would write notes to everyone else and keep abreast of what was changing in gaming and comics.

Because that's what I did.

In all fairness, I would have done just as much of that had my co-workers not done their own thing. Nor are most of my co-workers lazy. Almost all of the folk I work with on a regular basis have a solid work ethic and feel comfortable working on their projects (most of which are assigned to them) because I'm at the front, and even my extra duties (things above and beyond the daily checklist) are things I can do at the front end as opposed to in the back and on the sales floor. Nor does walking the floor, helping customers or doing daily chores throw me off those duties. Nor can any of them be expected to have the same level of multi-tasking I do. I've been working a lot longer than most of them and have carefully trained and cultivated my ability to multi-task over a series of years. It was a deliberate and careful training, too - multi-tasking is a learned skill, one I've honed for a long time. That they took advantage of my skills to make their jobs easier is not a mark against them. Rather, I think, it's something they should have been doing. Why shouldn't they let me do what I do well while they do what they do well? It's a mark of a good team, I think.

I could never manage sections the way some of my co-workers do. JW is the mistress of the DVDs and manga; AK is the mistress of Vertigo and DC. RL and MR handle Marvel, board games and the CCG cases. LP handles the miniatures, even though his job is Events Coordinator.

It didn't hurt anything if they were a bit late, because I was already there. Most of my co-workers have two jobs, are college students, or are working parents. That extra few minutes grace was something I could - and did - give them because I understood that they had a lot more on their plates than I did, even with my work at the church and the occasional tutoring job.

Now, I can't give them that level of support. Getting stuck on the floor for any serious length of time sets me behind. Having to do someone else's job as opposed to my own - which now encompasses a great deal more work than I expected - sets me back.

So part of what's happened is I've been set back and set back and set back - and then I got sick. Now, I'm in a hole. I think I can dig myself out of it, but I need a bit of time and space to do that, and I'm not getting it.

Mostly, my problem right now is that being sick meant I was too tired to work effectively. Part of is that I'm not organized. I'm not on top of things like I need to be.

Hence, a plan. First off, I need to get some urgent things done and out of the way so I can make way for just enough space to update my calendars, update my to-do lists, and figure out a plan of attack for the rest of it. I need to finish getting my new computer up and running as soon as I can so I can shift over from my laptopt to the new, more portable and less space intensive computer.

Then, I need to show AB that I'm worth it. That she didn't make a mistake by letting me basically write my own ticket.

It's going to be a helluva a hard week, especially since it'll be a short week.

But I haven't failed at this job yet. I haven't failed at Dragon's Lair yet.

I refuse to accept failure now.

As an end note, I want to thank everyone who's been commenting on my journal and supporting my personal blog challenge. Your involvement has been invaluable; knowing people are reading this makes it easier to blog every day.

I think, by the time I crawl out of this hole, I'll be ready to tackle my own writing again. Maybe sort out just that much more of my life.

Because I am so very, very tired of failing at life.

Really? Really?

More bullet points. Maybe some real text. Because I fail at my own blog challenge just like I seem to be failing at life right now.

• I'm so stressed I can barely see straight. I need space and time to work on things, but I'm not getting it. My family won't leave me alone long enough to work on anything, and I can't think my way through getting dinner, let alone getting anything done. People need to talk to me about things before scheduling them.


• My brand-new computer may as well be a paperweight at home, because the wireless adapter is too advanced to connect to the home network. Ergo, I cannot has internets. I can't download anything. I can't chat. I can't get on my websites. In a word? Fail.


• I got sent home from work sick today. I thought I would go home and work on things and start getting caught up. But no. I ended up in the bathroom for a time. Then I slept. Why do I always feel guilty for being sick? Some days, I almost wish I had the lack of work ethic my 'peers' seem to.


• My innards are still staging their insurrection. They have yet to deliver demands for my surrender.


• Instead of sleeping in on a Saturday, my only real day off during the week, I am not getting to sleep in. I am not getting to work on things. No, I am taking the dogs to a 9 AM vet appointment. Why is is people schedule my time without talking to me first? I know I have no life. I know I'm supposed to serve others. I know being a good person takes sacrifices. But really? People could talk to me, so I can arrange all the things I'm supposed to do for everyone to make sure it all gets done.


• And really? I don't want to hear from most of you about taking time for myself or doing things for myself. Because the things that would help me or would let me do that, most of the people I know are either unable to unwilling to do, so unless you're one of the people who actually read the things I write or have helped me when I've asked for it, don't go there. (And if that comment makes you feel guilty - don't. Either you're able to help or your not.)


• I fail at newsletter this week. By all rights, my boss should write me up. I'm frustrated because I schedule one night a week to be able to do newsletter, and when I don't get the stuff on time, it crams me up pretty bad, but I still should be able to do it because I'm supposed to have time at work these days. If only I could start chewing through my list again. If I don't start getting a handle on things, I'm going to fuck things up again.


• No, I'm not overcommitted. I'm sick and crazy things keep happening to get in the way of me getting things done. People keep having emergencies.


• It's 11:30 at night and I have (sort of) had one meal today. I should try to eat, but cooking is too much damn trouble beacuse as soon as I leave my room, Mom wants to talk to me about things. I'm not allowed to be cranky, frustrated or stressed, because it makes her feel like she can't talk to me. I have to be a fucking cheerleader for her all the time. I can't be frustrated with Dad beacuse then he wants me to explain it all to him. No one wants to either just do the things I ask or get out of my way so I can do things. They all want me to explain everything, which takes more time, and then offer ideas, solutions and criticisms on what I do. I could go out and spend money on fast food (again), but really? Why can't I be allowed to function in my own home?


• I want Mom to turn off the TV when she wants to talk to me. I can't talk over it. I can hear it through my headphones.


• I have a cell phone full of contacts and a list of people who say 'I want to help', but no one can talk when I call and want to vent. But when someone else needs/wants me, lord help me if I'm not there. How does that work?


• Why can't the TV be off for even an hour or two? Just long enough for me to let my brain collect itself. I could go out to the garage, but then I have to be miserable in the heat. People wonder why I can't stand to watch television. That's why. It's never turned off. It's never silent. Ever. And no, I can't ask her to turn off the TV. That opens up a whole new can of worms I want to deal with even less than I want to deal with the TV.

Intense day

I went to Dragon's Lair San Antonio today.

It was interesting, excited and you really want to hear all about it. But if I tell you, I'd have to kill you. Or they'd have to kill me. Or maybe both. Either way, there would be a dire need for a backhoe and a mop, not necessarily in that order.

I got to (finally) meet Soror in person, which was awesome. We've emailed each other often enough about work-related things that putting a face to the email was good, and having a better working relationship (and hopefully a friendship) with someone from the San Antonio store is going to be a goodness.

The trip was fun; getting to hang out with AB and just chat about things both work and non-work related was fun. She and I have always gotten on well, and she's the best boss I've ever had. Every promise she's made me has been kept and everything she's tried to do with either store, she has so far accomplished or has made great strides towards accomplishing.

It was just an early morning, a fairly long time in a van, some heavy lifting, some crazy, some drama, and then more time in the van, more heavy lifting and then going home.

I found out that is just as insane as I knew she was. And that her Vision is going to become real, very fast. We're going to have some awesomeness soon. I also found out I am far more behind on everythign than I thought I was.

My new computer was there when I got home. It's been five years since I had Now, the case needs to get here.

It's been five years since I got a new computer, and I'd forgotten how much work went in to setting one up and getting it ready for use. I'm not nearly done - in fact, I've barely started.

I'm pretty excited, but I failt at blogging tonight since I'm so bloody tired.

I think I'm going to go to bed and catch up as best I can tomorrow.

Wish me luck.

New computers and vampire poo

So. Today. A recap? I think not. Too easy. Too simple. Too boring for me, because I already lived it. Instead, you get the highlights.

First - random. Barack Obama likes Jalapenos on his cheeseburger. Why is this important? I have no idea. But I've seen it on two different sites tonight. So, it must important. The internets told me so.

*sage nod*

This morning, I went to work. Surprised? If you are, you obviously don't know me.

At work, I have a co-worker. She is a Transient Being, an abstract concept made flesh by the combined will of all living beings. She is the embodiment of a terrifying Idea, brought into existence by a terrible act of the cosmos.

She is the Little Sister.

She can find your weakness, your kryptonite and will find a way to push every button you have. She will slime you with hand sanitizer. She will poke you at in opportune times. She will make the dirtiest jokes in the cutest voice. She will torture you with things you never wanted to know existed.

And she will tell you about vampire poo.

Yes. Apparently, vampires poo. Always diarrhea. And it would be sparkly and metallic, because they would strip the useless minerals from it. And like vampire bats, they would have to pee while they feed.

Talk about takikng the romance out of vampires. "Sorry dear, I peed on you."

Also. I bought my new computer today. A netbook. The Asus Eee PC 1000HE. I can hear the outcry now. I wasted my money, I should have saved more and bought a 'fully functional' laptop or whatever. But here's the thing: I don't play computer games. I don't do much more than write, do basic web design, surf, and listen to music. And the netbook? Will have three times the ram of my current, five-year-old laptop. It will have almost three times the hard drive space, and a similar processor.

It will be smaller, have an awesome battery life, and not be five years old.

Don't get my wrong. My Dell laptop is awesome; it has lasted me five years and is still going strong. I could get another couple of years of life out of this thing, easy. But it's time for me to upgrade a bit, and to get a portable computer I don't have to plug in to use.

I'm really excited about this. I read lots of reviews, did lots of research, talked to several IT professionals who have one, and really? I think I made an awesome purchase.

I also bought a carrying case and a 500 GB external HD. It'll all be here next week, and I will be happy.

I hope.

Yeah. Boring post is boring.

I need a haircut.

Finally - you know it's a good day when you can give your boss a hummer.

(In this case, a remote-controlled Hummer for her nephew. Pervs.)

Video games are cool. Who knew?

I'm sitting in darkjediprincess's living room, waiting to go pick up fuds. I have to do newsletter for the store, but as I have my computer and internets where I am, why drive all the way home and not be able to inflict my running commentary on someone in person?

I went over to her place because I had the dumb this morning and forgot to bring her DVDs with me to work. DVDs I've had, mind you, for over a year. We keep missing each other when I try to get them back to her. Or I forget. I brought them over and made myself comfortable in her living room and she started showing me this game called Mass Effect. The game is pretty damn cool.

Strip clubs, politics, lesbian sex, courtesans, lesbian sex with courtesans, gratuitous violence, cool sci-fi settings, fast ships, hot blue chicks, lesbian sex with hot blue chicks...

You get the picture.

Did I mention there's lesbian sex?

I think I finally understand why so many gamers sit around on their couches and play these games. They really can get almost everything they need from video games, including a virtual fuck.

(And to think I was worried about what I would blog about tonight.)

Okay, really, today was boring. Busy, but boring. I mean, who wants to read about me fixing the girls' toilet or hear about me being alone at the front during the busiest part of the day - again? I figure people get tired of hearing the same old stories from me time and again. Hell, I get tired of that story.

It's sad that I don't have much else to say, I think. But, I manged to blog.

Though, I will also say some of my co-workers don't know me very well. When they pulled my books last night, they didn't pull the Star Trek Omnibus.

I'm still watching her play the game, like a stoner watching a disco ball. I can't look away and have the random urge to say: "Whoa. That's freakin' cool," about every ten minutes. I have no desire to play the game m'self, but I sense it has a story.

I want to know the story. All of it. Right now.

But I can't, really, because the story shifts subtly every time she plays the game, or so she tells me. It looks like it would get boring after playing awhile. Grinding is not for me. Repeating the same action time and again is not for me.

I know the arguments that D&D is the same. Find yon ancient ruins. Invade. Kill the inhabitants and steal their stuff. Save the world. Lather, rinse, repeat. I think the difference is in the human element, the interplay between the characters that is lacking in video games.

And why, I think, I'm still not interested in playing. But watching while I try valiantly to make my brain focus on writing newsletter? That, I can do.

Also, there's lesbian sex.

Awkward. (And happy birthday xdrumrboi

Why yes. Yes, this is a backdated post.

It's not cheating, because I haven't gone to bed yet, even if the calendar changed from May 26 to May 27. I'm still awake because xdrumrboi and I went to see a late showing of X-Men Origins: Wolverine.

Happy birthday, bro.

So, I've been thinking about this blog challenge I've set myself and all the things I'm doing to make sure I keep it. Blogging before I surf the net, keeping a list of back-up topics and taking it one day at a time instead of thinking about just how long it is between now and Oct 31.

I'm not thinking about all the things I have to get done between now and then.

A list of 'backup topics' you ask? Why yes, yes, I really am keeping such a thing. Most of them are boring rambles, and some of them will 'expire' after awhile. None the less, I have them for days when I have nothing else. But so far, I seem to have a lot more to blog about than I thought. In fact, my brain seems to be writing the posts as I walk around during the day. Hopefully, I don't need to tell you that everything sounds much better in my head and I can never remember how things were worded when I finally sit down to pound on the keyboard.

The problem with having more to blog about than I thought? That means my lack of blogging in the past wasn't due to lack of content, as I've been pleading for years, but intellectual laziness, which is more than a little embarrassing.

*clears throat*

Enough about that. We can explore all the ways I humiliate and embarrass myself in later posts. There's plenty of time between now and Oct 31 and there's no reason to rush into things, now is there?

I thought not.

But since I think it's cheating to have an entire post about blogging about about my challenge, I figured I'd find something more interesting to say. I could review X-Men Origins: Wolverine or any other movies/books/comics I've partaken of lately. I could talk about birthdays and what it means to pass milestones and get older and get gray hair in your beard. (Not that I know anything about that.) I could talk about family traditions, hanging out with my brothers, or even about being a comic geek going to a comic book movie.

All kinds of good, psuedo-deep stuff that would make me feel intellectually superior and make me think I'm actually saying something important.

It's way too fucking late at night for that kind of intellectual masturbation, so I'm going to tell you about Madi instead.

Awkward moment was awkward.

So there I was. At work. (No one die of shock, now.) A customer comes in the door. Obviously female; has all the right curves. Has boobs. Nice make-up, if a bit much of it for my taste. Earrings, pale green nails. Headed straight for the yaoi manga.

Yep. A girl. Probably the annoying kind, too.

Nope. Wrong. A guy dressed as a girl. Now, this doesn't bother me. I work in Austin, TX. Normally, it doesn't even phase me or make me think about it. I do the customer service thing and move on. Well, Madi wanted to rent anime. After I gave him/her excellent sage addvice on what to rent ("go ask someone who knows what they're talking about. I don't like much anime, let alone watch it."), I gave her/him a rental form to fill out.

She/he does. (Sorry about the pronoun thing. I really don't know the etiquette here, and no one I've asked has ever explained it logically. Since I don't know what pronoun she/he prefers, I'm erring on the side of caution.)

I check the ID and the credit card. The name? Not Madi. A decidedly male name. Definitely his/her ID, though.

So I look again. I get that faint throbbing right behind my eyes that always happens when I have to have an awkward social moment with someone because they've done something that means I have to cross one of those invisible lines people aren't supposed to cross in the social context of retail clerk and customer. (I never get the headache in non-work situations. I suppose because I'm only making me look like an ass outside of work. At work, everyone else looks like an ass, too.)

But I have to tell him/her. It's policy, after all.

The name on the ID, card and form must all match. I tell Madi so, apologetically. I don't use the 'sir' or 'ma'am' I normally would, because - pronoun confusion. Since the ID indicated an age less than mine and I have gray hair in my beard, I pulled rank and used 'Madi' instead.

When I told Madi she/he had to use the other name, the look her her/his face was so hurt, crestfallen and disappointed I felt like a right and utter prick. But it wasn't my fault this time! It's store policy! We have lots of people with odd nicknames they go by. Toaster. Pumpkin. Bumper. They have to have their real name on official documents too!

Madi, to her/his credit, didn't argue. Just changed the name and signed with the correct name.

I hate making people feel bad when there's no reason to.

Like I said. Awkward.

NaNo November Ruminations, HPU and other worthless bits of my brain

Welcome to the latest installment of 'Jayiin thinks too much.'

I should be sleeping, because I have book pull tomorrow, but instead, I'm blogging. This is the post that should have gone up where I had 'Placeholder.' JH, your patience has been rewarded. I hope this is worth the wait.

This post has been brewing in the back of my skull for awhile now - two or three weeks, really, but as with most of my writing, it needs time to gestate. As a further - and somewhat random - note, I have a new blog (which, for the moment, will just be a mirror of this one) over at Inksome - it's a fandom friendly blogsite using Livejournal's open-source code. The ever-wonderful mackzazzle got me an account there.

So, for those of you who read on LJ, a Friendslist-friendly cut! Because long post is long. For those of you reading on
Blogger - well, you're stuck.

Most of you who know me, know every November, I participate in NaNoWriMo. Most of you know, this is my yearly thing. I spend hours in front of my computer (well, more hours than normal), eschew activities I might otherwise participate in (okay, so there's a chance you'll find me doing something else other than writing. I do occasionally visit the outside world. Just not often, and not without protection.) and otherwise focus in on a new story.

I'm good at NaNo. I'm good at writing. Usually, I blaze through NaNo like a hungry teenage boy through free pizza.

This year was no different. There was a brief period at the beginning of the month where my work schedule and my writing met and clashed and didn't work well together, and I actually fell behind most of the people who watch me blast past them in word count. I whined like an emo schoolgirl and my boss, being gifted with compassion, patience, and a sense of humor, patted me on the head and moved heaven, earth and the rest of the cosmos to re-create her carefully crafted schedule into something where I could write.

There aren't many bosses who would do that. Lots of folk I know bitch at me about working too much, giving up too much of my time/energy for the store, wearing myself out, etc - well, what AB did for me with the schedule was better than a raise or a prize or anything else of the sort. Very few people in my life are willing to do as much to help my writing and very few of those willing to help are willing to face down a horde of geeks whose precious 'sit and do nothing' time would have to be rescheduled for two whole weeks. My boss did.

I didn't waste the time she gave me. I won on the 17th or 18th of the month, and after validating tonight, I got this shiny new picture that says I'm a winner.

I have never lost NaNo.

That said, this year was hard. I had lots of ideas, some of them better than others. I chose one that I thought would be fun, but it sucked. The story was flat, the characters were 2-dimensional, and the plot had more holes than rotten cheesecloth. Yet, in the spirit of NaNo, I went ahead and kept writing until I hit 50K - and then promptly closed the document and left it alone, because I hope I never write anything that crappy ever again.

Why was this year hard? Because I was writing crap. I understand the idea behind liberating yourself from your internal editor and just flying with literary abandon. I get it - and normally, I revel in it during November. But I've never written this kind of crap before. I know I quote Anne Lamott a lot and babble on about how every writer writes shitty rough drafts. But this? This went beyond bad and into the realm of absurd. It's so bad I couldn't even salvage it by turning it into a farce.

Unsurprisingly, November brings up all kinds of thoughts about things I already know, at least about writing. First and foremost, writing is a discipline. Just like any spiritual discipline, physical discipline or lifestyle discipline, it takes effort, will and determination to make it work. Bum glue. Glue your bum to the chair and write.

I think I finally learned what that means. To just push through and keep writing, even when it's crap. I don't like it.

I think of writing as a craft; just like carpentry, blacksmithing or any other craft. There is technical skill and then there is artistry. A person with technical writing skill can create a well-written, grammatically correct, correctly spelled and logically sequenced piece of writing, just like a carpenter can create a functional, sturdy and usable chair. However, a craftsman is always trying to make things better, to make that chair or that piece of writing more fun to use or to read.

I fall into that category. People often ask me why I can't write all year like I do for NaNo, and the truth of it isn't some kind of horrid mental block or any of the other dime-store psychological platitudes people dish out to me when I talk about why I get stuck with writing. It's a completely different dime-store psychological platitude.

It's craft. I want to craft my stories - build them, work with them, make them work. Every time (aside from NaNo) I try to write without working on craft, I end up stuck. The times I do my best work are the times I sit down and am willing to craft every sentence or paragraph or agonize over words. When I'm willing to go back and play with a chapter or a scene until it fits - when I'll scroll back over a hundred pages to change a single thing to makes sure everything is consistent.

If I'm really called to be a writer, as I've theorized, I need to treat what I do with respect and irreverence at the same time. I need to take the idea behind NaNo - writing the story, telling the story, no matter what and synergize it with the idea of crafting the story as I write it. Even though a well-crafted rough draft will still be shitty compared to the final product, it will be something I can feel comfortable with having written.

I don't know if I'm an artist or not; I don't think of myself as one, but I know there is sometimes artistry in storytelling or character or even a turn of phrase. Some folk, like homicidalsh33p have it fairly often. Sometimes I even think I do...but I'll leave the final decision to my eventual readers when I get something substantial published.

Strangely enough (or maybe not), it was HPU that led me to that conclusion. Oddly enough, most people on my LJ Flist haven't read HPU, even though I've been working on it off and on since 2004. For that matter, most people on my LJ Flist haven't read the Katheryn story, either, even though I started writing it in 1995. These stories are a major part of my life, and some of what I'm going to say won't make sense if you don't know those stories. So, for those of you who don't know what I'm talking about, time to tune out and go back to the rest of your regularly scheduled internets. For the rest of you who have a clue and still give a damn, read on!

Writing HPU has been an adventure in self-discovery. I could rant about the fanfiction aspect of HPU and spend a lot of time defending fic, but I won't, because most of you have already heard it already, read fic, or stopped reading at the last paragraph. HPU is the first story I truly gave free reign to and it's turned into a monstrosity. Over 760 pages, 220,000 words...and the story is not even to the halfway point. It's got a lot of writing I'm proud of, a few places I want to cleanse with fire, and some bits and pieces I know I could do better (and will eventually tweak). But I've learned more about how to tell a story through HPU than through anything else I've ever written, just like the Katheryn story has taught me how to build a universe in such a way that I don't drown myself or kill the story with the details of cosmology.

Frankly, I'm not a good enough craftsman yet to tell the Katheryn story, but if anything will get me there, it'll be HPU. If you think reading this entry has been hard, try making an admission like that. I'm not good enough to tell the story I most want to tell.

I will be, though. Even if it kills me.

For the most part, everything I've learned about writing, I've learned on my own. There are a few notable exceptions to this, most of them coming from random places. Anne Lamott taught me about letting go of false expectations in Bird By Bird. One of my professors at St Edward's taught me a new way to think about writing.

Everything else? I've taught myself. Mostly, because getting people to actually read is very hard. Getting people with my level of knowledge and who are willing to sit and discuss is even harder.

The other night, I was writing a bit of HPU, and I realized that, despite what I'd been telling myself, I was stuck at the same place I always get stuck. The last two weeks of summer, after Harry has woken up from the attack at the gym but before his return to Hogwarts. I can't get past this same place; I get bogged down because there are so many details, so many things to reveal, so many things to build and to put into place to make the rest of the story make sense. When I stopped trying to limit chapter size and stopped trying to keep other characters from having a strong voice and role in the events, I was able to start moving things forward.

Then I got stuck again. The only way to get unstuck, I think, is to push through like I did with this year's NaNo. Only, slightly different. Instead of focusing on quantity, I need to focus on quality - I need to make sure to spend the time crafting and building these chapters instead of rushing through them to get to the 'meat' of the next part of the plot. Patience is a major part of good craft, I've been told.

I have patience, just not with myself.

It all comes back to the Basic Speed Law, as applied to life. Which is to say, you can only go as fast as conditions allow.

Not too long back, back, I was driving to Dragon's Lair on a Wednesday morning. That particular morning was beset by fog - fog like I haven't seen in awhile. It was thick and horrid stuff, like cold steam. When I was a kid, I learned fog was just a cloud that had settled close to the ground - if so, then this was a particularly aggressive and stubborn cloud that refused to be the wispy fog we central Texans are used to.

The frustrating thing about this fog wasn't the inability to see a whole car-length in front of me, or even the need to drive to work. It was the way the other drivers seemed to be ignoring the fog. Now, I'm not usually one to bitch about traffic. I leave that to my father and Iridanum - they're much better at it than I am. But that particular morning, the other drivers were beset by a particular and special kind of suicidal stupid.

It reminded me of learning the Basic Speed Law in Driver's Ed all those years ago. I remember Mr N browbeating us with it. "Only drive as fast as conditions allow." It was on every test, every quiz, and, if you got that question right on the final, you were sure to pass (if only barely).

As much as I hate the dumb 'life as a road' metaphor with all the deep, dark and unpleasant parts of myself, it works here. Everyone has goals - things they want to do. Ambitions, hopes, dreams, etc. We have thousands of movies and stories about people achieving their dreams, just because it's something everyone can connect with. Because there's no one in the entire world who doesn't have at least one impossible thing they want to accomplish before they die. (Impossible, of course, being relative to the situation and person.)

You can only get there as fast as conditions allow.

Even as I write that, I hear all the outcry, the screams and the rants and the lectures about that being a horrible excuse for letting things get in your way or slow you down, and while there's some truth to that, there's a lot more truth to this: sometimes, there are things that get in the way and you have to navigate them with care. Sure, you can claim obstacles are just excuses, and they can be - but only if you're not trying to get around them. Moving slowly and carefully around an obstacle so as to not make more of a mess is different than using an obstacle as an excuse for not doing something.

To say nothing of how your goals compare to what other people think your goals should be - but that's another post. Probably my next one. Maybe. Maybe not. I'm learning not to make promises about my blogging, because - let's face it. The blogging fairy only pokes me one and a while. *cough*New Moon blog.*cough*

In my case, I have a whole host medical issues - fibromyalgia, rheumatoid arthritis among other assorted minor problems, to say nothing of the varying forms of dyslexia I have (which is pretty much the whole set). This means it takes me three times as long and three times as much effort to do normal, every day things.

Such as remembering which way doors open. Or which faucet has the hot water (when they aren't marked). Or finding my way around a room that's been recently re-arranged. However, some of my issues mean I don't have as much energy to put into effort as other people. That means I have to choose what I do and when I do it and how I do things very carefully. I live my life in a constant state of discipline just to make it through one day to the next.

Everything I do is very deliberate, very purposeful. I've discovered I work best when I apply that to the rest of what I do. Another HPU lesson. When I'm deliberate in my writing, I do better - but I can't plan too far ahead (IE - outlines!), because there's no way to predict things or plan for things too far out. In life, that means I might not have the energy to run to the store after work to get food I can cook, but I can plan to eat dinner after work. Sometimes, that means cooking. Other times, it means hitting up the usual.

Recently, a few things have happened to make me think about my life, its direction and the goals I have in it.

My boss, at the beginning of November, sat down with me and had a chat with me, because of a personnel shake-up at work. Suffice it to say, JKA - who I helped train! - got promoted to manager. At first, I was a bit upset about this, mostly because I felt overlooked. Truth to tell, I don't want the job he has. I'd be miserable, because it would take all the fun out of my job! But my boss, showing wisdom, patience and compassion well above and beyond the call of duty, made sure I understood what was going on.

I hadn't been overlooked. In fact, I'd been considered. However, my talents and skills are of more use elsehwere. Truth is, I'd make a poor manager. Hell, I remember not being able to handle being a safety patrol lieutenant in elementary school, and I've not grown up enough since to get past some of the stupidity that makes me a bad manager.

Still, being an irrational creature, I got upset. I'm proud of how I approached the situation. Instead of throwing a fit, I was able to feel happy for my co-worker's promotion, and actually approach my boss about it rationally and calmly and talk to her. I'm glad I did. (Though, a couple of hours of praying about it before I did anything had a lot to do with that bit of maturity).

I can't reveal much about future company plans, but suffice it to say (yes, I like that phrase. I'd say 'sue me', but I have nothing of worth), that Dlair is a franchised chain now, and if I play my cards right, I could be the press agent/medial relations guy for the chain. Not just one or two stores...but a lot more than that. I could be a part of something pretty big. Not a huge corporate chain or a major force in the comic publishing industry - but I could be part of growing a small homegrown business into something more substantial.

All I have to do? Prove I can do it.

Okay, so I've proven part of it. I can do the writing part of the job in my sleep (and, considering when I write most of the store newsletters, I sometimes do). The press agent the owner had on contract for awhile didn't do much writing - she just stole the articles I wrote for the website and used them as press releases until I said something about it. Then, people just had me write the press releases.

Now, her contract ran out and I have a chance to show folk I can do all of her job, not just part of it. Here's hoping I can pull it off, yes?

Considering I'm something of a professional failure so far, I'm pretty sure I have a fifty-fify shot of fucking this up royally. Which is to say, I'm going to try, going to try to discipline myself enough to get the job done while trying to untangle the rest of my life.

It won't be quick or easy, because most of what I need/want to accomplish with this are things that take time and require me laying groundwork. Here's hoping I manage to get it done before the owner and my boss run out of patience with me.

In the mean time, I'm going to keep slogging through HPU.

And hopefully, get enough sleep to function tomorrow.

Playing Catch-Up

I was recently reminded by JH, the author of Insert Title Here that I haven't been blogging (again) and there are people far and abroad who are supposedly interested in my life and thoughts.

I figure those folk have got to be bored. So very, very bored. None the less, here I am, blogging for their amusement and mine. Mostly, a long and boring series of thoughts, events and ponderings that, I'm sure, will make you long for your previously scheduled boredom.

First and foremost, my brother and partner in crime, Iridanum has traveled to the Emerald City to be with Aderangedhyena, which means he's actually smiling for once. Whataburger, the dogs and I shall all miss him.

For those of you waiting for commentary on New Moon, patience. I'll have my first blog on that up before too long; hopefully mid-week.

Now, as most of you know, I live in a quaint little trailer park in the twilight zone between Austin and Pflugerville (yes, it's really spelled that way) and, thusly, all the big and important people don't want to sell things to us. Folk like Ye Olde Cable Company don't want to come out here and sell their services to us. As such, we aren't in the middle of the unfortunately amusing little fight with local Austin station/NBC Affiliate KXAN.

It also means we're stuck with one of the other guys for cable. Now, this isn't so bad, normally, considering the infinitesimal amount of television I partake of. However, four and a half months ago, our house was struck by lightning. It shorted out a few things, including my mother's most precious possession - her TV. The Great TV Quest was embarked upon, and my father spent an inordinate amount of money on a new HD flat screen TV for her. Not that we get HD channels (see above cable company), but it was a nice TV.

Only, the sound cut out. A lot. So he traded it in for a new one. The sound cut out. A lot. So after some work with the sales folk and customer service folk at Circuit City, we got a third new TV. And the sound cut out. A lot. Throughout this process, there was much experimentation, including putting my new and mostly unused TV in place of hers, an old analog TV in place of hers, and a few visits by the Not-So-Friend Neighborhood Cable Repair Man. (He's definitely not a super-hero, unless he's spreading the cranky and annoying).

Okay - long story short. One brand of TV had a bad run and the sound sucked sweaty donkey balls and the picture would flip out whenever we ran the microwave. However, the second brand (and third actual TV) my father brought home worked great. (Also, the Firedog Installation guy was out so often the dogs got to know him, if that tells you how much of a pain this has been.)

Last night, push came to shove and the sound was cutting in and out every two seconds. My father counted. And decided the Repairman needed to come back out and fix it, which sparked a discussion between him and my mother. Let me tell you - my mother has been remarkable patient, reserved and not-cranky about this considering how much she loves/thrives on/needs TV to live. (Please note: this is a relative statement, which means there was only the occasional screaming fit and self-pity marathon as opposed to her normal behavior, which often resembles a grumpy emo two-year-old with hemorrhoids.)

In the process of this discussion, it was revealed that the Repairman has been treating my mother like a sick, doddering old woman with the mental capacity of a senile flobberworm as opposed to an intelligent person who's disabled because of physical problems, and thusly, her opinion on dealing with the repairman again was: Do Not Want.

My mother and I do not get on, not really. Long story. Complicated relationship. Etc, etc, etc. Yes, she has memory issues, thanks to the drugs she's one.

However, I have never once made the mistake of thinking my mother was too stupid to notice a problem, nor that she had the powers of deduction to figure out what the root cause of said problem is, especially when it comes to her own comfort and entertainment.

Nor do I like it when people treat my mother with disrespect when she hasn't earned it. My mother has done many things to earn disrespect, many of which I cannot and will not defend. However, there is a certain level of customer service that is required when one is in a customer service job.

This past month, there has been a customer service contest at work, because it is our Customer Service Awareness Month. Yeah, okay - sounds hokey, right? Right. It is. But we're geeks. Hokey is kinda what we do. But it's made me think about what customer service is and how to provide good customer service. Frankly - it's fairly simple. All you have to do is Give A Damn or act like you do. I may write more about this later, but suffice it to say, my father and I decided to have the Repairman out today, while I was here to deal with him.

We wanted him to do one simple thing - replace a cable outlet/box thingie in our wall that transmits the cable signal through the co-ax cord to the TV. After all, we've only asked him about this ever time he's visited us over the past four and a half months. He merely tells my mother that the box is not the problem. First, it was the TV. Then, it was the house wiring - a deduction based on the microwave making the picture spaz.

However, we applied the process of elimination and the scientific method - skills most folk learn in elementary school - and were able to determine that no other cable connection in the house had the problem, the new(est) TV didn't have the microwave issues, and we were four TVs in - all of which had the sound problem on that particular outlet. (New co-ax cable didn't fix it either.)

What does that tell us? Simple. Logic. The outlet has issues. His meter says the signal strength is fine. Great! So?

The Repairman came, fifteen minutes later than he said he would. First thing he said was 'Changing the box won't fix it' and proceeded to tell us why. He was rude. He was brusque. And he didn't listen. However, my mother might not be up for confrontation anymore, but I am. I explained to him why his logic didn't work (lack of information on his part made his assumptions wrong) and then I told him we were going to pay to have the outlet/box thingie replaced.

He replaced it. He stormed around outside, scared my dogs, chased my mother back into her room, and slammed our front door.

I decided being an ass to him wouldn't solve anything - I wanted him to concentrate on doing his job, not proving his cock was bigger than mine by telling me how much I don't know about his job. Beating him senseless would have been counter-productive, if satisfying, and calling him out on his rudeness would have been counter-productive. So I sat in my father's chair, read a book, and stared at him the whole time he worked inside.

It took him about 45 minutes to do the job. Then, as he was leaving, he had to get the last word in edgewise over us poor trailer park folk, and decided to tell me in a quite patronizing tone of voice that we should get the wiring of the house looked at, because of the microwave problem.

I smiled, told him we hadn't had that problem since we got the new(est) TV, and bid him a good afternoon.

I'm probably an ass for getting the last word in, but - that was some of the worst customer service I've experienced in a long time. Iridanum will tell you that I'm the luckiest SoB when it comes to customer service, because I usually get the worst of the worst. It's kinda like the Curse of Katheryn, only not as amusing.

If I ever treat a customer like that, I hope they slap me upside the head with something heavy and blunt for being a dick.

But speaking of JH and TV (I know, I know - a brilliant segue from a brilliant writer. Stand in awe, folks, stand in awe.), I did two unusual (for me) things this past week. I went out and did something social at someone else's house and I watched TV. With people, even. Not just when I've got writer's block so horrid I watch TV instead of practicing self-trepanation.

I went over to JH's apartment after work last Wednesday and, after chillin' with him while he edited a neighbor's audition video, we watched the new Knight Rider - which, in our uneducated opinions, was awesome. It, unlike the failed Team Knight Rider from the late 90's, captured the feel and spirit of the original show - which was much more awesome than people give it credit for and was David Hasslehoff's best role. And came way before Baywatch. Even if the Guinness Book of World Records says it was the most-watched TV show of all time. (No surprise - I've never seen an episode.)

We watched the awesomeness of Knight Rider on a massive TV, which, really, is a wall with an identity crisis. Only, the HD didn't work. That didn't bother me any because I've never watched anything in HD, but JH was a bit annoyed.

Following the show (and an excellent impromptu dinner by KH, JH's lovely wife), therein followed more work on the neighbor's video, helping KH grade papers, and a discussion about that most boring and uncomfortable of topics - me. Apparently, KH has an interest in me, and knew all of the random and awkward questions to ask me to make me talk about all of those things fanficfulreality has been trying to pry out of me for years.

Now, the filter in my brain that tells me not to say something offensive, rude, dumb, or painfully insightful to someone else never works. The filter that keeps me from talking about myself in any serious or meaningful way is usually in good working order and almost always stops anything important from coming out was out of order that night, because I said way too much and told them things I'll probably end up regretting when my rare good mood evaporates and is replaced by my normal cynicism.

None the less, we plan to repeat this experience this coming Wednesday, where hopefully his HD will be working, and I can be awed by the awesome that (apparently) is HD. I think I'm being social. This disturbs me on a very visceral level and amuses Starrybluepoet, who informs me that I am no longer able to retreat from the world and be a hermit, as life is very much less colorful when I am not around.

I would argue and say that is a strange thing to say, as I wear monochrome, but fancifulreality said much the same thing later today. Never argue with tiny women. They always outnumber you. When two of them agree, run. Especially since both of them are armed with pixie-dust.

Still, considering Starrbluepoet is writing things again, I cannot vanish again. If I did, she would stop, and I would be sad.

Ahh, writing. That subject near and dear to my heart. National Novel Writing Month is very close at hand, and I am getting myself back into the writing shape that will let me write 100k again this year.

On another note, I re-joined ASR, because I missed my characters, I missed the people I wrote with, and I missed the momentum and pressure having to post gave my writing. So Shay is on Starbase SAIKAI and Tigria is still on CIRCE. (And yes, their pages need updating and lots of work. I will eventually get them fancy HTML web pages up again, but it will take me time.)

Also, Carpelocke is joining CIRCE. This makes me happy and excited, because he's gonna get in on things right before we have a massive fuck-off of a space battle with insurmountable odds that very well could kill us all.

Again.

I think I'm finally over whatever hump it is I have on HPU, because I think I can actually write a chapter in the mid-thirties now, and move past this quagmire point I always get stuck at. I just have to push through and write a shitty chapter or three to make it work. I have lots of ideas for after, it's just some of the interconnecting parts are a bit (very) hazy.

I have no idea which idea to use for NaNo this year. There are too many of them to figure out right now. I may re-write Path of Thorns/Path of Tears or Worlds Asunder in their entirety (as in, use the same basic idea and characters, but not touch the original text. It is NaNo, after all.) Or try for a less abortive attempt on Starfire Quest; disregard everything I've written on it before, and just start somewhere in the middle. I can go back and write the beginning later. Or the HP fanfic about Bill's time at Hogwarts - technically, the prequel to HPU, because it deals with Bill's quest to become a Dueling Master.

Though, over-all? I am more behind than I ever have been. I have so many things to read and edit and so many things to write and create that I don't know what to do about it. To say nothing of web work for work and desperately needing to clean the bathroom at some point this week. And other assorted chores, though cleaning the bathroom is important. There is mold growing back, and if it gains sentience, I'm charging it rent.

I'll leave you with a final observation. About two weeks ago, at Dlair, there were some young folk - late teens to mid-twenties - who came in to buy some manga. Four of five of 'em. They all had Down's Syndrome, I think. They didn't call each other by their real names; they called each other by other names they'd given themselves. Goku was the one I remember most clearly.

Some folk, even some of my co-workers, got a chuckle out of that. Being me, I started wondering why that was funny to us, and I couldn't come up with a real good reason, except that we were making fun of them. I'm not sure we should have.

I think there's a lesson in there, somewhere, about accepting people and calling people what they want to be called, no matter what the rest of the world thinks.