NaNo Day 30: Happy, Really

Well, that’s my first NaNo about over.

Nope, did not reach the golden 50-thousand words. Though, now I have vast chunks of a very old project more real than if I hadn’t tried. I’m really happy about that.

A very interesting experience, it was. Learned a lot about how I write, and how I can write. Also, how I get in my own way, worse than all the daily…stuff I call obstacles.

Head’s tired. Not from NaNo, Nooo. There’s a section I’ll be tapping away at tonight before bed.

NaNo Day 26: Lucky Blog’osphere

Oooh, the blog’osphere’s sooo lucky. I just stopped myself posting...a thing. Re-reading it, I got it would’ve been nothin’ but another rant. Work-related, yeahhh. What else, eh?

Nahhh. Good self-edit, that.

Got an idea, tho, when I can get around to doing it, it might make a nice mature-rated Protag rant-exercise. For exorcising the little ranter in us all. Heyyy, that’s good. And I’d want it to be an addventure. Just because I like the branches thingy.

---

Oh, yeah. Re the NaNoWriMo. Am still at it. Enjoying it, when I can do it. I think it’s better that I self-edit here, and don’t elaborate.

NaNo Day 12: Oop'sied Word Count

Forgot I had another word file I'd been NaNo'ing in. To clarify, there are a pack of these word files in my NaNo folder. Multiple files. Figured it safer to have several, rather than just everything in one file. The Not Putting Everything in One basket precaution. Makes sense, doesn't it? Computers, and e-files, aren't 100% foolproof. Nor am I. What if I oop'sied, deleted my Everything in One basket NaNo file, hmmm? A bit of a disaster, that. And noisy, most probably: I'd be wailing. Oh'yes. Wailing.

Anyway. That's not my way. Each day I write in a new word file. It makes it easy finding content, too. I'll ask myself, "Self, that bit about the brain monkeys. Did make a cute one-liner. It could make a story." Other-Self replies, "I know the bit. Jotted Nov 11. Got it." Just an example.

Back to my forgetfulness. Have these daily NaNo files. I total up the word counts from them. I missed one last night. Because I figured it more important to write than go online and update my NaNo word count total, I hadn't updated the total in a couple days. I forgot to add word counts from TWO days, only added the current one.

Did use the holiday well. Wrote steadily from Nov 10 evening through all Remembrance Day. 5146 words. I'm feeling kinda gleeful about that: I've never had a 5000-word writin' session.

---

Just remembered another safeguard I should prob'ly do soon. Upload all so far written in an email to myself. An online back-up, let's call that.

NaNo Day 9: Today Ate a Gnu I Knew...Not Really, but It's a Title

NaNo's progressing. It's surprising me, really. I knew I hadn't a chance if I started with anything less than basic outline and characters' sketches. Without those, it'd be like striking off on a 50,000 word journey with a song in my heart and no map. Can we picture such as me, novice NaNo adventurer, um, soon lost? And then, wild-eyed and grasping at mirages, cobbling together any last hope? Cobbling say — this NaNo novice's diary, chronicling for the ages my hopeless expedition through the NaNo wilds.

Hmm. Sounds like that might've been fun, too. But, no, I won't have to play with that. That might've made a good exercise for 2009, when I swore myself purple I was just too busy and never started. I made a plan, going into NaNo 2010. 2010 would be different.

I began preparing well in advance. It might've been June, D-Day, Do Day. I would be ready. The Stupid'busy day job stopped me finishing the outline in time for the November 1 start, but I didn't want that to stop me even trying. I tend to complain...probably past the point of it being useful, in private...and make excuses. I've about had enough of my own excuses. Looking back on last Monday, when all this started, there was no good excuse for not starting. Knew my characters: each one's story within the big story. I knew the big story: Beginning, Mid-stuff, and Wow'ser Ending, all logical, and outlined enough. The hard work was done. Mostly, I'm only telling the story now. Heeding the advice of Protag pathfinders, and NaNo navigators gone before, to keep out of my own way.

The Big Picture

Okay.
So I'm not a tripod.
Am a biped.

Have spliced together my double rainbow.
Am going off-line now.
Have 45,000 words still to write.

2010 NaNoWriMo...A Go'Go! I must be nuts.

Add Gadget. In Blogger's layout design thingy.
Add picture. NaNoWriMo 2010 web badge. From my pc.
Link to NaNoWriMo user.
Save. Done.

If only those 50,000 words come as easily...

Yeah. Officially signed-up.
Web badge looks rather splendid in the sidebar, I'd say.
Can't go wrong with a monkey, eh?
Was 4600 words in, as of this morning, just after my oatmeal, and before rushing about to get to work.

Little Rocket Man Achievement...achieved...

Can't say how I'm feeling, now that I've stuck the garden gnome in the nose cone of the intercontinental ballistic missile, and sealed him in behind the hatch.

I'm nearing the end of Half Life 2, Episode 2, from The Orange Box for Xbox 360. The requirement's been met: the plaster-Plus (as in indestructible) and jolly'painted little old man I'd found at the start has adventured along with me to this moment when we will part ways. I go to fight the deciding fight against the enemy: perhaps to die and re-spawn over and over, 'til I get it right. Then He goes...where no garden gnome has gone before.

30 points. But what have I achieved, really?

Perhaps I expected I'd feel changed, emboldened even, like Amelie's retired papa seeing the point when his globe-trekking garden gnome returned home, took again its position, a still-life in his managed garden.

Perhaps after he's gone, one hundred miles high, I'll see it, and clearly. The point. I can't play too late tonight, though; can't stay up late, searching for meaning: another workweek begins come morning.

Windowsill Farming

The harvest's in. Cherry Belle radishes. Tiny Tim cherry tomatoes. From the windowsill. From plastic ice cream buckets recycled for this purpose of windowsill farming, and supermarket potting soil. South-facing window.

Vancouver’s summer 2010 essentially over mid-August: am guessing these all would’ve cooked in the south-facing window, if not for the cooler weather.

Naturally, immediately had to sample a little of this bounty. A taste. Each. The radish: satisfyingly crunchy, then the peppery note which kept building. The tomato: tangy, then slurpingly sweet; even though just a wee tomato I held between thumb and forefinger.

All of this windowsill harvest an experiment I’ve long wanted to do.

NAASSCAARRR...on TSN...Really?

What?
NASCAR?...I actually get t'see a Sunday race?
Live on TV? A 2010 Chase Race?
ESPN, which I can’t get in my pricey cable bundle, wants t’share a Chase Race with TSN in Canada?
TSN isn’t sooo preoccupied broadcasting golf and football and whatever else – TSN wants to give us NASCAR?
Wonders never cease.

It has been a few weeks since the last race I could actually see…anywhere, on the sportier channels of my pricey cable bundle. I do still recognize my Sunday buddies who turn left…there’s a relief. Happy Harvick looks happy, still. Jeff Gordon’s as ever hopeful. Mark Martin hasn’t retired. Good.

Was in such an excited hurry – rushing to catch the race from Kansas – rushing to catch an actual televised NASCAR Chase Race available to fans north of the 49th Parallel – I saved this as a draft, instead of posting it!

Antici'pation

Canada Post delivered my very own Royal Mail packet Wednesday morning! Air mailed from the U.K. and halfway ‘round the world in Vancouver inside two weeks. Inside my very own packet, stickered with its Customs Declaration signed by T Hirst of Hirst Publishing: Tricia Heighway’s Paddytum.


About a very special teddy bear, and the man who needs him.
I'm saying no more: don't want to ruin it for myself.

Tricia is Tasha Noble, one of the nicest people I’ve met in the writers’ workshop-playground that is Protagonize. Paddytum began on Protagonize: I remember fondly the wonderful installments Tasha treated us to. That feels so very long ago now. Paddytum found a publisher, you see.

And now I have my very own copy.

How to Pre-Pay at the Gas Pump

Are you a devil-may-care bicycle commuter, also registered owner and grocery-gettin' weekend operator of a motor vehicle, and therefore are only naturally unused to the...convenience of pre-paying at the pump for gasoline?

Have your repeated unsuccessful attempts ever crashed the unhelpful pump-computer, lined-up waiting cars, and their staring and unhelpful operators, compelled a garbled barking over a P.A. system and eventual visit by an actual service-station person?

Has actual service-station person likewise crashed the pump-computer, because service-station person isn't any clearer on deciphering those instructions?

Fear not, bicycle-commuter-slash-weekend-driver. Perhaps it'll be next weekend, perhaps in six months: your next visit to the gasoline pump will be uneventful, possibly pleasant, or even fun, when you unswervingly follow these simple steps.

Step 1/ Pre-Pay, just as they say, at the pump. Present your credit card. Swipe your card the correct way through the reader. If you have a newer-fangled chip card: tap your card on the chip-card pad.

Step 2/ Wait. The small display should display "A moment, please", something similar and promising: indicating the computer has read your card and is readying things for your actual purchase of that gasoline.

If small-display doesn't appear at all encouraging: first, re-try your card.

If small-display still does not cooperate: start your feet stepping; proceed to the station office; deal with an actual person more than likely only too happy to assist you.

Step 3/ When things do function properly at the pump. Small-display prompts you to take the nozzle in hand, and select the fuel-grade.

Step 4/ Follow the prompts: when the pump is active, pump your gasoline.

Step 5/ Done pumping: replace the nozzle in its cradle.

Step 6/ Pump-computer prints your transaction receipt: take your receipt.

There. Done. Happy Motoring!

Love Admail?

Doesn't everybody simply love ad'mail? Oh, I do. I might only write, or scribble some nothing, if there wasn't this admail I just must de-personalize, and now, y'know? But I do love handicrafts: love scissoring out my personal info: name, address, account number. Also relish grinding the multi-page shredder, shaking the glass in the windows and drawing a kilowatt-hour or two, when there are pages enough and I can use it.

Looks like it would make snug bedding for...I dunno...a gerbil, say, that nest of shredding, eh?

I was becoming concerned [my cable tv provider, or phone service giant - can't decide which to insert here] didn't love me any longer. No crisp envelope in the mail in some time, y'see: no ad'mail. But another two weeks rolled by, and another biodegradable ink and paper nudge that I try [brandname] broadband services showed up, reliable as a friendly unknown-caller phone-call during dinner.

All so biodegradable. The 100% recycled paper responsibly sourced, et cetera. It's so green Mother Nature might approve, and start growing pamphlets instead of forests.

They've used both sides: I can't even scribble notes on the b-side.

Google Images Search: Revert to Basic Version

Ohhh, Goody!
There is an option for saying "No Thanks" to Google Images' new and standard, and slow, search return. An option for reverting to Google Images' simple and quick-loading way it used to display image search results.
Page-bottom.
Nicely central button: Switch to basic version.

Oh'yess, now here's the Google Images search I won't grow old waiting for. Don't have to landfill this machine now and move anywhere 21st Century'ish just so I can see some bloated, image-cluttered scroll-fest the same day I go searching for it. I can turn time back, revert to how things were, in the good ol' days.

I'd gone image-searching for Iron Age houses, hillforts, and such. Research for writing tonight, sometime.

Now I have to find that certain special pre-writing mood again.

Yup...Lookin' at You

Figured if I can't find the time to blog, so I keep telling myself, I should at least stumble over moments enough for adding fave movies to my profile. Added Hitchcock's Shadow of a Doubt. Also, Fail-Safe. Nevil Shute's On the Beach.

I've always liked movies. Character and story. How it's all worked out at the end; for better, or worse.

Y'see, watching a movie feels like I'm just idling, only filling my head with entertaining sights and sounds. Actually, I'm taking mental notes. Protagonist. Antagonist. Begin. Mid-point crisis. Ohh'maan, however will character-A fix this and close the door on wicked, nasty, opposing B, and end this?

Yup, watchin' a movie's my kinda work.

"I'm takin' m'four-minute break...It's in m'contract"

Am taking a break on Victoria Day Monday. Reacquainting me'self with the bloggin', in this four minutes while the tea in the ol' smirkin' mug spins on the glass tray inside the microwave.

The best kind of break, this. Am home, not at work, because today's a holiday, exactly. And it's me taking a break in my own day full of some of the doings I haven't been able to get to because of that thing named Work.

It really is a four-letter word: Work. It's been using me up and keeping me from writing, from Protag, from clumsy bloggin', from my better nature and sweet dreams, from family, friends, wine, women, and song. Y'know, I might say "Thanks, I've had enough. Keep your w**k." Can't say when. Some day. I might.

Won't have to, of course, if that golden someday ever comes that w**kers of the world have long dreamed of. The Future so bright...and flying cars...there's a scary vision.

Of course, there's also the thought that connects with the scary vision. Someone's got to maintain those flying cars; or maintain the robots that'll keep them flying. So I suppose there will always be someone, some when, staring up and feeling his existence reduced to a four-letter word. Depressing.

Meanwhile, I'll just have my tea now. Return to outlining, and notes. And whatever might come. And not think about tomorrow morning.

Explorin' the Dark Side

So I've killed my first villager. Bandits earlier attacked a coach on the Rookridge road between Bowerstone and Oakfield. The villager, this sneering opportunist, was looting the dead. Drew my longsword and I whacked him dead. I let him live on my first play-through of Fable 2: I'm playing it darker, this time.

Last time, I rid Albion's adventure-filled lands of monsters and baddies, and the game world changed for the better. I shouldn't go into spoiling specifics: it's enough to say that for every moral act done there was its dark opposite I might have done instead. And the world would have turned out differently at the end.

Let's say I'm exploring the dark side. Will not be simply bad for badness' sake: where's the fun in exploring possibilities at that mindless extreme, eh? I'm striving to be ruthless, this time through. Looking out for Number One, for Me. I want gold: don't care how I get it or how the scales tip.

Looking out for Me and Dog, okay, to be more precise. And My Wife. Wives! — yes, in the plural, because that'd be being wicked, as in bad, as in good for ruthless me. And kiddies — MINE, after all. So, to be as precise as I can be this moment, I'll be looking out for me and mine. Role-playing the best I can my second play-through of Fable 2's idea of an RPG.

Only wondering how I might attain a respectable degree of despicableness without having to kill any more villagers.

Tea's Stewing

I’d like to tap here that a tea’s brewing and I’m just contentedly tapping away at story ideas, etc. Truth is: tea’s stewing in the office microwave – I’m rushing to do something for me before everyone else shows up – and knowing full well it’s now or never.
Have no idea now what to write: only that I want this exercise, and any exercise has got to result in some good. Maybe these choppy sentences will train me to get to the point, for one.

I’ve just excised the whining bit: it poured out of me – solid paragraph in minutes – done, and good it’s gone, believe me.

Can’t really look around in Protag: not from work. Too many eyes in here. Too wiped at the end of the day to write anything sensible there. Kitty’s back from America – and inspired again to work beneath Paddington Station. Elo: gotta Thank her for her opening my eyes about my sloppy writing. Stella: Vampire Heart – I’m caught up on and thoroughly enjoying.

Just remembered, good. Last night: too tired, I was sure, stared and stared, the page blank. Page stayed blank: good, now I’ve a blank page for tonight.
Last night, staring, idea came that connected with Big Project…1, let’s call it. A tone that’ll run through from start to end, with a complete twist at the end, of course. Scribbled that little nugget on the back of the shopping list in my back pocket. Maybe, some quiet moment today, I’ll play with that.

Morning Scene: Kids arriving for School

Want to jot this down before forgotten.

Private school. Orange traffic cones and sidewalk guards in orange safety vests eye-balling passing residents of the neighbourhood.
Dark blue uniforms: sweaters, girls in skirts, boys in slacks. Kids eye-balling pink-pink cherry blossom: trees heavy in rain; like pink snow in gutters.
Parents whiz through neighbourhood of apartments, along treed streets: Lexusss, Mercedes, Volvo…Ford, oohhh Expedition. Expedition to drop-off kiddies and whiz away: all pedestrians shall yield. And it’s every kid for himself: picturing elephant seal colony, belching blubbery parents, and tramplings accepted as ‘Just the way it is’.
What’s she up to? – Honda…something-van – done dropping off the kid, stops at dumpster in alley behind an apartment. Mama pops out passenger door: she dumps…looks a fried chicken bucket-load of trash. Bucket goes back inside van. She’s opening the back of the van, now: I have impression she’s not done using someone else’s garbage bin.
A truck? Cutting through here and speeding. Truck hauling trailer: AMP, that energy drink…that figures.

Just an exercise in observation writing, this. Putting a little something in my head other than the workday about to start.

Musings re Updates Available

Thanks…really, Thanks for the interruptions.
Am referring to all those ‘helpful’ little pop-ups that pop up in the middle of waking the computer at work.
I want the Saturday job done – I want to get on with the Saturday that isn’t job-related.
But first I’m supposed to dally, to hold even these briefest of conversations with these unhelpful guys…

“But you have unused icons on your desktop. Sure, you can trash-can the shortcuts yourself whenever: I’m here now, I can help. Cummon, wouldn’t you really rather wanna maintain pc desktop cleanliness? It’s not going anywhere, y’know: the mind-numbing work that’s compelled you in, on a Saturday morn, after a workweek long enough already. Cummon, let’s do it together. Desktop maintenance is fun! Here’s another reminder…in case you forgot the one three seconds ago.”

“Beg pardon, Java Update Available Pop-Up here. While you’re at it, how’s about updating Java? I realize you’re prob’ly busy, cleaning up those unused desktop icons and all, however my Java Update should only take another moment of your busy time. And if you really have not got this moment available for updating my Java, how’s about perusing my Update Later options? That’ll take hardly any more of your Saturday, really.”

“SystemAdmin here. Important Notice. Your system password will expire in thirteen days. Would you like to change your password now?”

Yeah...

Swallows Return - 1940...er, 2010

The swallows have returned! Sunshiny hazy blue sky and a loose formation of these beauties swerving about, like Battle o’ Britain spitfires. Supermarine blue wings. Flashes of orange as they roll bellies to the sun.

Ack! – Such jolly fun they must feel. Imagine the cockpit chatter, eh?...

“Happy hunting, Fellows. Tallyhooo!”

“I have my first of this grand, sunshiny, warm, sky-over-patchwork-farm…”

“Whot?”

“I have him.”

“Never!”

“Guns – Guns – Guns! A’Herrgh’A’Herrgh!”

Surly on top...of not seeing Fringe (Fun Working Title)

What happened to my Space Channel, Tuesday night? Got myself home just in time to catch…not a new episode of Fringe…instead…Private Practice.

Perhaps some other time I might be in the mood for yet another hospital melodrama. I wanted to see Fringe, however. There even was the little Space swirly logo in the screen lower right corner.

They broke for sci-fi themed commercials. Returned to more hospital melodrama, preceded by the warning the following show contains violence, et cetera. Clearly, something was amiss.
With fifteen minutes left in whatever those medical practitioners were going on about (I was cooking dinner and no longer cared), the station suddenly broadcast those lovely multi-coloured test bars. Little Space swirly still bottom corner right. Test pattern vanished. An old Circuit show started up, filled the leftover time. At the top of the hour – the thing I guessed likely to show next came – InnerSPACE, the Fringe AfterShow.

Ajay and Teddy dissected the Fringe episode I didn’t get to see. Scenes. Spoilers.

And, today, not a burp I can find on any forum or blog about what happened.
I’m feeling some dread for this Saturday now.
Matt Smith makes his debut as Doctor Who on Space’ace’ace.

Feel Free...Feed the Fishies

Something broke in that handy little dictionary search gadget I had in the sidebar, below the Hubble link. Not a biggie, not really. So I've been to the virtual pet store at the virtual mall and got a plastic baggie of lively little goldfish. Please feel free to feed the little fishies. Wonder if there's a mama fishie, too, somewhere.

Platinum Sudoku 2: Great Battery Drainer!

Had this Samsung SPH-m300 a couple years now. Just a basic cell phone. Decent features. I've test-texted a story, of sorts, to my blog: an experiment...I was all thumbs at. The phone has its web browser, hasn't memory enough, I couldn't possibly get into Protag, but then this handy flip phone was only really intended for roadside emergencies and such; for phoning ahead when I'm running late for Christmas dinner. It's off more than on.

When I first wrestled it out of its fiendishly unyielding blister pack those years ago, I tried downloading a Sudoku game. Yes, Yoda would say, "Do, or do not, there is no Try": sometimes having tried best sums-up any attempt at doing, Master. The download never worked. Spent an hour on the phone with customer service re-trying, eventually draining dead the phone battery. The phone settled into its use-as-needed, two-year slumber inside my fanny pack.

Until this week. Not that there was any emergency; no family dinner to go to. I wanted to...try, again. I wanted Sudoku for this phone. And the download worked, spectacularly!

Platinum Sudoku 2, by Gameloft. Ubisoft's equally talented game-developer sibling, Gameloft. I should say here my Samsung SPH-m300 version of Platinum Sudoku 2 (version 1.0.2) doesn't at first playing match exactly the game description from Gameloft.com, so it's likely as they say: game content does vary by handset.

I'm still happy with this version 1.0.2 I got. Splendiferous mobile number-puzzler I wouldn't call a little game. Basic Sudoku comes in five difficulty modes: Easy, Medium, Hard, Professional, and Sudoku X. It's said that finishing a game on Hard unlocks Professional Mode. Finishing one on Professional unlocks Sudoku X. The playing field adds the diagonal in Sudoku X. That's sure to hurt my little grey cells, heh.

The Sudoku grid is bright and readable. From the Options menu, I can choose from 3 grids, 6 fonts, 3 control configurations. Play with sound on or off: I've heard a lively Euro'Pop Welcome theme and Congratulatory fanfare; tones confirming menu activations. And there are skins: differently coloured and textured backgrounds, to match my playing mood. I unlocked a skin simply in finishing my first game on Easy. The game called me a genius for that.

I'm no Sudoku master. I play for the fun of it. Easier puzzles: for the quick buzz. And the not as easy: the sit-and-stares. The Tutorial in Main Menu delivers game basics. In Sudoku, numbers 1 through 9 must show only once in every line, every column, every 3 x 3 box. Depending on the challenge level a player likes, more or fewer numbers are given at the start: clues sprinkled over the Sudoku grid. Aforementioned player fills in the blanks until all 81 cells are done. And correct.

Filling in those blank cells is a simple thumb exercise on the phone. I'm playing with default controls. Tapping the navigation ring moves us around the 81-cell puzzle grid. Pressing a number on the numbers pad enters that number. Pressing 0 deletes the number. The * shows a hint. The # enters a draft number.

We access all the goodies from the game Main Menu. Besides Sudoku Game, there's Solver Mode (the computer solves a puzzle you input, say a puzzle from the morning newspaper), and Custom Puzzle (when You want to solve the puzzle from the morning paper). We've got our Stats to ogle. Those display Options to tinker with. And the Tutorial, which I haven't finished. I'm going to play through the Tutorial just as soon as I'm done writing this: finishing Tutorial unlocks a skin, too.

There are hints, coins for buying those hints. Guessing there's a rewards system here. When I'm done, there's a nice plain EXIT from the main menu. And the game saves a game in progress: saved even when I was interrupted and simply closed the flip-phone (the bus...my stop).

I can see myself draining the phone battery over and over, over this jewel. Even my version 1.0.2 cut of it.

No Humourous Words Follow

Pollen. No humourous words follow. I've sat here long minutes now, tapping false starts intended to follow Pollen. I like humour. Even to over-play with it. Humour lifts, the why, obviously.

Enough of that. Time's wasting. DayJob's kept me all week from all the truly important things. Writing. Play. Family, oh'yeah.

Blog'spots work again. Good t'see. I have to file a retraction of sorts: the Access Denied issue actually appears now more a local sickness, not any sort of cyber-pandemic. I found the link I based part of my assumptions on in last week's History and tracked a bit: a Canadian blogger posted her Access Denied cry for help on Google UK's Support forum. I put 2 and 2 together and made 5 from that; and from a UK blogger suffering Access Denied woes in late February seemingly caused by a...uh, a widget, perhaps in Internet explorer 8. The aforementioned Canadian blogger is based in British Columbia. Telus, ISP to so many here in British Columbia, yes, has addressed, if not corrected, et cetera. I do love a puzzle sometimes. Only wish I could pay the rent playing with puzzles.

Posting 'coz I Finally Can Again

Okay. So now I can access my blog. Couldn't, even just minutes ago. And not all evening.

I took breaks, visiting threads. It seems 'blogspot' bloggers here, in BC, other places in Canada, the U.S., and Europe, all have this little wonder in common now.

403
Forbidden You were denied access because:
Access denied by access control list:

Somebody broke something.

I'm able to get in now, though too tired to smile much about it.

Waiting...Day...Twooo

Well, last night started out a soothing evening. Billy Connolly setting out for the Northwest Passage. A documentary series on the great Mekong beginning. Both shows on Vancouver's Knowledge Network. On PBS, KCTS out of Seattle, The National Parks: America's Best Idea.

I'd started writing something first thing yesterday morning. Enthusiastically went at it. Then the workday happened: it used me up. So I finished up last night recharging on teevee documentaries, and doodling little mindmaps: drawing bits of the movies playing in my head that make up the stories and ideas I'd like to write.

It seems to work, this exercising the other, not-as-used-up parts of my brain. I figure mindmapping still counts as pre-writing.



Did intend to post some two-week-old pix of my local cherry trees already in bloom. Stuff’s been getting in my way for almost two weeks now, though. Same last night. Blogger, every 'blogsite' connected to it, all went cryptically inaccessible last night.

403
Forbidden You were denied access because:
Access denied by access control list:

What’ever.

I could go elsewhere in the triple-w matrix just fine. Figured the issue just a problem with Blogger and its relateds. Emailed the draft to myself, for posting today: figured the problem would be resolved by morn, and I’d post from work when the time was right.

Right happens to be the end of another work day.




Two weeks ago, this. One side of the street sees just a bit more warming sun during the day. I’d been waiting for this. The annual return, and winter almost past.

Saw Red

I'll post the cherry blossom in February stuff later. Snapped the pic last Saturday. Still don't feel in a cherry blossom posting mood. Not into pink, not this moment.

There was all this red, see.


Funny, isn't it?
Suppose the folks at Google, just the same as so many other IT folks, must simply expect every pc is always online: therefore, always available for updating whatever bits of software they simply must update. Every hour. More often, if the user dares disable the service on his own machine.

Unlike Google Updater Service...or Gusvc...or Gupdate...I have an off-switch. Also happen to be on dial-up. Yesss, snickering IT guys, dial-up is it in some older parts of this...town.

So. Uninstalled Google ToolBar earlier today. The culprit. Some update, I imagine. Same thing happened to the machine at work, at the same time, two weeks ago. Am currently monitoring for unwanted system behaviour. Will be writing and playing Xbox later. Not sure in which order, that.

A Filled-Up Saturday...and smiling about it

Walked an hour after Saturday shopping. With camera, naturally. Hazy sunshine. Broken sky. Fine enough morning. No specific destination or subject in mind. Filled up my camera. Filled up my head.

Am thinking at last about weekend projects I might actually get to. Writing, I'll say. And...more writing. There are different types of writing I might actually get to, y'see. Here, now, I'm blogging a bit. And there's Protag, naturally — but Protag's for fun, and the camaraderie, and for later, right'right. After working some more on every one of the things underway in my UnderWay folder. My messy NaNo outline has been snoozing too long: I have a fix for it just waiting for a Saturday like this one. And there are contests to search for. Articles and stuff to read. Ideas to jot down. Children of Men is on Space tonight. I have questing to do in Morrowind into Sunday morning, too. I'm busy, okay? There's only so much left of this Saturday that's mine'all'mine!

Nice to be this kind of busy.

Speaking again of Protag: I just added again to Bolsheviki's Mage Hunting. Not a real chapter as such. Only a bit of backstory, for fleshing out some characters. Was fun, though. Drakon wakes in his bed. If you'd like a read, here's the link: http://www.protagonize.com/story/mage-hunting/3164

Self-Talk...One...Sure, why not?

So…we’re talking to ourselves then.

A little play, yes. I need play. And to move around the furniture in my head. And post something.

Need a little discipline too, though. Missed the contest deadline.

Yeah. Saw it coming. As in…passing by.

Worn out from working late. Not time enough left for thinking it out. Same old, same old.

Yes, and fully aware I’d spent away the nights experimenting with five-minute writing, scattered my time over that bunch, when I should’ve turned to the piece with the deadline. And worked it out.

So we know, at least. No excuses.

None. And that’s something.

It is.

NewsFlash: Vancouver City Cleans Streets!

Cityworks street-cleaning signs inexplicably appeared overnight north and west of Marpole's working-class apartments district, renewing residents' fears for their cherished wetlands.

Described as 'historic and overlooked' in the Every Commuter's Guide to Shortcuts, the district's tree-lined streets every Fall become picturesque leaf-clogged streets, as Vancouver City chooses to allow Nature her annual winter reclaiming of the district's gutters, storm sewers, and street corners for wetland habitat.

Winnie Church-Hill, spokeswoman for the Marpole Wetlands Protection Society, returning from a recon north and west, and plainly agitated, reported, "They blocked my GPS, I'm sure of it. Security drill, probably. In advance of their Post-2009-Winter-HooHah-We'll-Pay-'n-Pay-For. But it was north and west. All of it done. Just like that."

Calming some after a cup of tea, Ms. Church-Hill added, "The City ignores Marpole every winter. Residents have come to expect that, and enjoy the solitude. Call it an Understanding. It was looking like the City's Post-2009-Winter-HooHah-We'll-Pay-'n-Pay-For would just pass us by. Spring would arrive, the overwintering ducks and geese go, and it would all be over. Now where are the ducks going to go, I ask you?"

Every Commuter's Guide to Shortcuts describes the tree-lined, and cleaned, shortcuts north and west as 'famous in cinema and teevee for its mansions and pricey hovels'.

MuddleMinded

Mind's a muddle.

It's a New Year.

New Start.

All of That.

Resolutions...Got those.

Don't want to list them, not just now.
Don't want to think more about 'em either, not yet.

Thinking on them, here and now, feels likely only to stop me actually doing things, as I am.
I'm writing, y'see. This, then that, then the next.
Little projects. Little warm-ups. Feels great. Don't want it to stop.
Know it has to, soon enough: work...Monday.
Only...feeling this muddle-headed, I'm just concerned I'll forget something important. Yeah, well, yeah, suppose I could just note it somewhere.