Gossip, Umbrella, and a Prank Gone Wrong

Mavis glances at her cards one more time before looking around the table. Someone is surely pulling a fast one on her. She hasn't been dealt two aces since she was 75 and playing poker in South Lake.

Ernie, to her left, puts this poker game on every Tuesday night in his room -- 205. It might be him, but Mavis has been playing in this game for three years and she would have expected this type of prank would have come sooner from him.

Across the table is Deloris, Mavis's best friend in Smokey Acres. Deloris is capable of pulling a joke on her, but is falling asleep every deal, and is in no state to stack the deck in Mavis's favor, especially on Ernie's deal.

Clyde is the likely culprit. Sharp as a tack, and wearing his trademark bow tie, Mavis has felt Clyde had more than friendship on the mind since he moved into the home last year.

She plays it coy, looking for a facial expression from any of her three table mates.

"I call." Mavis says as she tosses two pretzels into the pot.

Smokey Acres strictly forbids gambling on the premises, so the residents have a well known currency of pretzels = $0.25, Werther's Originals = $1, and Thin Mints = $5. The girl scouts love coming by each spring, as the residents pounce to stockpile for the year, which are cashed out in early December by Tony, an ex-college football player turned nurse. Winning bettors often share their good fortune with their grand children via Christmas letter.

Ernie folds, Clyde has to wake up Deloris, who blindly throws in a pretzel "gotta see a flop" she sleep-talks, and Clyde checks his option.

Ernie flips over the first card, a red three.

"Dag gummit, Ernie!" Clyde says.

"What??" Ernie responds.

"You forgot to burn a card again, you sack of knobs!"

"Oh, what's that? Oh, suppose I did."

He turns over the three of diamonds and flips over the next card, a third ace. He also flips over a ten and a five to complete the flop.

Deloris looks dejected, and checks. Clyde bets a Werther's and Mavis eyes him sharper than a spoke on an umbrella when it is close to someone's head, eventually calling the Werther's. Deloris folds.

Ernie flips over a 6.

"Gosh darnit to heck, Ernie!" Clyde says.

"What's the matter this time?"

Clyde sets down his cards, rubs his aged hands together, blows on them, and then holds them out over his cards as if the cards were a camp fire.

"... forgot to burn again, didn't I?" Ernie says knowingly.

Clyde nods.

Deloris snores.

Mavis stink-eyes the whole table and neighboring county.

Ernie flips back over the 6 and reveals an 8 as the true turn card.

Clyde eyes Mavis, who is staring directly back at him now.

"I hear you bought my grand daughter out of Thin Mints last week. Why not save some for the rest of us?" Clyde directs at Mavis.

Ernie smiles.

Mavis growls at Clyde.

"You know, Thin Mints have always been a favorite of mine." Clyde says.

"Put your money where your mouth is, you old coot!" Mavis chimes in.

"She speaks!" Clyde says playfully. "Well, okay, I bet three Thin Mints."

Mavis quickly calls.

Ernie starts to peel off the river card...

"Burn and turn!!" Clyde and Mavis both same simultaneously, as Mavis whaps Ernie's hand with the back of hers.

"Ouch! Okay, okay!"

Ernie burns a card and sheepishly places a four of clubs out on the board as the river.

Clyde looks at Mavis and then lowers his gaze to her plastic tray full of Thin Mints.

"How much you got there, young lady?"

"You have eyes, use em'"

Clyde smiles.

"Well, I suppose you've got more than me, so I'll just go ahead and bet all of mine..." he looks at Ernie, "All-in, in case there was any doubt, I may as well make it official."

Mavis checks her cards again, still two aces. She checks the board, and there is still an ace out there. A ten, an eight, a five and a four.

Mavis sits back in her chair.

First time she has been dealt aces in ages, and she doesn't feel good about it.

"Come on, sweet heart, we haven't got all day" Clyde ribs.

Mavis glowers at him.

"Well, she's got to have something, or else she wouldn't be thinking so long" Ernie chimes in.

"One would hope so, but I don't think she has anything at all, she just doesn't trust me." Clyde says. "Look honey, your queens are no good."

"Show me an ace and I'll fold" Mavis says.

"Now, now, I play by the rules, you know that." Clyde responds.

"Play by the rules, my ass!" Mavis snarls.

"Come on sweetie, call or fold." Clyde says.

Mavis attempts to disintegrate Clyde with her eyes, but her dream doesn't come true.

Mavis throws her aces into the muck.

Ernie and Clyde both gasp.

"Ah hah!" Mavis says as she leaps out of her seat. She grabs Clyde's hand and flips it over, six-seven.

"You dirty, rotten, no good scoundrel!" She directs at Clyde.

"And you! You rooster-clucking, no-good fish-eating moon-howling duck!" She directs at Ernie.

"Whoa there! You can't turn over my hand, you didn't call!" Clyde says.

"To heck, I can! You two cheaters are going to get cut off once Tony hears about this!"

Mavis hits the alarm button on her wheel chair. Within a minute, Tony is in the room and asks Mavis what the problem is.

"These two cheats are trying to take me for all of my Thin Mints! Look at the board, and look! Bowtie over there has six-seven and bet it the whole way, you don't play six-seven like that!" Mavis shouts.

Deloris wakes to the shout.

"Oh, hi Tony, didn't see you come in." Deloris says.

"Now Mrs. Goodell, you know this game has its moments, and you know Clyde plays off the cuff quite often." Tony responds.

"Bull shit cuff!" She responds.

"Even if Clyde has the nuts, how the hell did you fold aces there?" Ernie says.

Mavis smiles, for the first time in weeks.

"Now sonny, who told you I had aces?"

March Maaadness 2011

This March Madness is starting to get a little crazy. Almost done with the first weekend and the set Sweet 16, and the overall leaders on Yahoo have missed 5 or 6 picks out of 46. That's out of 5 million-plus brackets!

Everyone in my pool has Kansas going to the final game except two. BAM had Pitt winning (sorry BAM!) and Josh has BYU losing to Ohio State. Kansas is in a somewhat tight game with Illinois right now. Most of the games have come down to the wire, and I've been glued to my second monitor setup.

Was talking with an ultimate frisbee teammate of mine who tries to write 1500 words every day. I may start with a much more attainable goal of 300 words every day, just to get the volume and routine down.

Teaching is somewhat of a blur right now. I'm onto the tail end of my 1st full year teaching my own classroom, and I had my first teacher-in-service day with no students, and I decided not to go to any of the professional development meetings downtown. It was freaking amazing. The school was void of kids, and each teacher was grinning--actually able to get work done and cut through the piles of homework and things put on the back-burner.

When I get to school the first thing I do is check my work email, and then make sure I have everything in order for the day. Most times everything is planned out the night before, but not always. Once I've got the planning shored up, I move on to grading and inputting grades, which tends to become a larger and larger stack of papers as the week goes on.

Looking forward to writing more, but not making any promises! Super busy during the week, and the next few weekends will be spent outside of Seattle.

In the Works

A month ago, right around Veteran's Day, I realized a few things. First, as a substitute teacher, I didn't have to work on Veteran's Day. Second, I wasn't going to get paid for Veteran's Day. Third, I wasn't going to be able to work or get paid for Thanksgiving Break, the two weeks at Xmas Break, the week of Spring Break, or 2.5 months next summer... oh crap.

I am loving the free time of being a substitute teacher, but I'm also realizing that I need to start spending it more wisely--aka, using at least some of my free time towards finding a full time job next year. In addition to working towards a full-time gig for next year, I realize although I've had fun the last few months, I really don't have much to show for it. I met up for drinks with an old high school friend a couple of weeks back and when she asked what I've been up to, I couldn't come up with much outside of teaching and going to the gym (keeping my secret identity as a lvl 80 Blood Elf Priest a secret). I have a few projects in the works, which should hopefully keep me busy during winter break and on into 2010.

1) Photo a week

I joined up with Betty Underground a year or two ago for her photo project. Each week she would give the group a category and everyone in the group would take photos of what they thought fit into the given category. At the time, it was exactly what I needed. Now, I feel like I don't need a category to focus on, I just need to bring my camera out with me more often and get one shot I am happy about each week. I have been neglecting my camera the past few months, and when I go back through the archives, the posts with pictures really stand out and help me remember the times better.

Today it was cold--no snow, just 15 degrees this morning, which seemingly hasn't happened in Seattle in a decade or two. (I'd suggest clicking through for the real picture)



2) Poker

I'm thinking about starting up round two of the Summer Bankroll Challenge: Southern Hemisphere edition. Stay tuned for details. It looks like Dr. Chako and Waffle's favorite blogger, Blaargh, are both in.

I'll admit to being pretty lame and missing the WPBT this year. I have the money and the time necessary, but it would be tight and I would not feel comfortable losing any money at the poker tables, which leads to playing scared blah blah blah...

Playing more poker has caught my interest for a few reasons. One is to get better, specifically at NLHE ring games. I've always sucked at ring games, and I want to change that. A future goal is to supplement my substitute teaching income, but this goal is a ways in the future--have to be profitable first.

For the first time ever, I'm starting to keep track of my stats and number of hands played. I'm going to start out trying to get in 100 hands a night. This took about 40 minutes last night two-tabling 6-handed games.

3) Writing

The writing project may or may not get off the ground. There was some interest, and I still have some interest in writing the story, but I am more interested in the other projects at the moment.

4) Sports and Working Out

I love me some sports. I blame my athletic mother. I am still chugging along on my Pushup Challenge from last Thanksgiving, with 19779 push ups, 21232 sit ups, and 13981 frog squats completed. I definitely haven't stayed at 100 of each a day, but I do what I can. I've supplemented the push up challenge with visits to the gym as often as possible. My new kick is swimming laps, which is an incredibly difficult workout, doubles as a shower, and is a great change of pace from any other workout routine.

The Heist (Introduction)

Waves crashed into the rocks hundreds of feet below the Bloomberg Mansion. Built in 1920 as a retreat for industrial tycoon Phillip Bloomberg, the mansion sits atop a bluff overlooking a rocky and rugged section of the Washington coastline. The exterior of the mansion shows considerable wear from the constant wind and rain over the past 90 years. Explorers Meriwether Lewis and William Clark spent the majority of their winter expedition just miles south of the present day Bloomberg Mansion. They named the location "Fort Disappointment" for the relentless bad weather. After spending a winter at his estate in 1925 writing his memoir, Mr. Bloomberg vowed never to return in winter again.

Although the stone walls resemble the dreary November weather, tonight the inside is alive with action. Thomas Crow, a well-known art collector, is hosting a party to celebrate his 60th birthday. Without many close friends of his own due to his seedy art deals in the past, and feeling deserving of plenty of attention, he invited friends of friends, who were welcome to bring friends of their own.

With his extravagant art collection on display, Mr. Crow is reveling his role as host, telling stories of various art pieces and offering his impression of each piece. The wine is flowing and the host is blissfully unaware of the fact that his prized possession, a grandiose locket made for Catherine the Great, locked away in one of his many basement safes, is the only reason several of his guests are in attendance.

((Feel free to add your character and plot suggestions in the comments. I will post this week's comments as they come in. If you want me to NOT publish your comment, please let me know.))

MHG-RPG Round Two -- The Heist

Back in July of 2007, I attempted my first story with input from the peanut gallery (Jordan, Schaubs, and my friends William and Tyler). The story involved pirates, ninjas, and a monkey named Jim-Jam.

I'm in that same creative mood I was in over two years ago, and I would like to try a similar writing project. Basically, I will be the author of a story, and you should drop a comment if you want to help brainstorm ideas, or if you want to be a character in the story. This story is going to be another short one, with four or five chapters (posts) at most.

My role will be to write the story and include as much input as I can from the participants. I will post a new chapter each week.

As a participant, you are expected to read the story each week and then post a comment on the story about what you want your character to do next. Also, if you have any other suggestions regarding the story you can post those suggestions. All comments will be moderated, and I will not reveal the posted comments until the next chapter is out (to keep a surprise element to the story). Also, if you want your comments to be kept secret, just write DO NOT POST in your moderated comment and I won't post that comment publicly.

The first time I tried this, I would have a vague idea of where I thought the story might be going, but a comment would change that direction and provide a storyline I hadn't thought of. Some comments altered the story, while others I dismissed as too difficult to weave in. In the event that two or more characters suggest very different paths, I will likely choose one of the paths to keep the participants together.

The general plot idea for this next story will be a heist, but I haven't decided on a location just yet, or a main character. Thinking about it more, there are several ways to do a heist story--the one I am leaning towards is possibly having a cast of characters like the board game Clue, where any of the participants might be the thief, and you don't find out until the end of the story who done it.

If you are interested, leave a comment here letting me know either that you are just interested, or if you have any character, location, or plot ideas in mind. I hope to start the story by this weekend, and you can feel free to hop in whenever.

Memories: Hawaii

I'm still young in the grand scheme of things, but as I'm growing older I start to see how life experiences can lead to wisdom. I was staring up at the clouds tonight, and I tried to figure out what each cloud looked like as it floated by. I saw one that looked like a Big Mac, another looked like a skull, and another looked like a giant mushroom.

Then I got to thinking, how would I have viewed those same clouds when I was 10? What about when I was 5? I don't think I knew what a Big Mac was when I was five. Maybe I did, but maybe I would have just said hamburger instead. I preferred chicken nuggets. Hell, I still prefer chicken nuggets, I don't think I've ever had a Big Mac, but for some reason all I could think was "Big Mac" at the shape of said cloud. In attempt to cut off a ramble, I came to the realization that as you age and encounter more experiences, you have more connections to make, which gives one a broader understanding of... well, pretty much everything.

While I sat in the hot tub, looking up at the clouds floating by in the wind, I made a strong connection back to a hot tub I was in on a trip to Hawaii when I must have been 12 or 13. There was a big storm in Hawaii that day, and my sister and I huddled down in the hot tub as lawn chairs went scooting around the pool deck. There were two other kids in the hot tub with us, and we thought we were so cool for lasting out the storm. When the winds died down and we poked our heads up from the hot tub, almost all of the lawn chairs were squished against the far end of the pool deck, and a few had made their way into the pool.

I assume my mind made the connection because it was another time I was in a hot tub and it was stormy outside, but I hadn't thought of that memory for literally years. Tonight it came back to me like it had happened just the other day. There are some fuzzy parts of the memory. First, I'm not sure if my sister was there, and second, I can't remember how many other kids were in the hot tub, but I think 3 or 4 total. The interesting part to me is that this particular memory about Hawaii is lodged deep down in my brain somewhere, and it takes a connection for me to pull it up from the depths of my memory.

Other people must also experience these memories that seemingly come out of left field, but appear so vividly. I have them all the time, and I think I will start to write a few of them down when they come to me. I'm doing terribly at the NaNoWriMo, and I'm only at 1283 words after a week. I am supposed to be writing down 1667 words per day to hit the 50,000 mark by the end of the month. I haven't given up on it quite yet, but as long as I keep doing some sort of writing I will be happy, irregardless of whether it is the NaNoWriMo story or not.

Fun With Words

With a free summer ahead of me, I've decided to start up a little writing project on my old creative writing blog. The premise is using a Dave Matthews and Tim Reynolds "Live at Radio City" performance as inspiration to write 1,000 word maximum posts. I hammered out two posts tonight, and was able to find both the "Bartender" and "When the World Ends" live performances from the show on YouTube to compliment each post.

I downloaded the entire performance a few years ago, and I'm glad there are still some copies of the shows up for others to see. I intend to make it through all 27 tracks eventually, and hope to find videos for each track. The writing is a bit sparse so far, but it is meaningful to me at least!

Active

I've been slacking. Big time. The majority of my summer break has been spent playing Super Baseball Simulator 1.000, World of Warcraft, and Team Fortress 2. I've spent a lot of time checking up on blogs and wasting plenty of time on Facebook.

But right now, I'm spent. I spent the last 2.5 hours running around at Greenlake playing Goaltimate. Goaltie, for short, is a sort of newage ultimate game with a big goal in the middle of the field, and is played kind of like half court basketball. There is a lot of running and cutting involved. Add to the mix that some of the best ultimate players in the world (both men and women from USA World's team), makes for one tired MHG.

Last night, I got in two hours of basketball with a friend from the teaching program. The church he goes to opens up their gym from 9pm-11pm Tuesdays and Thursdays. We had five on five going for the full two hours. I can't tell if I'm more tired from the basketball last night or the goaltie tonight, buy my dogs are barking.

Today may be the last in a string of 28 days in Seattle with no measurable rain. I am sitting out on the back porch with our two cats keeping me safe. Watson is on the flimsy back railing, and Ichi is sitting guard at the top of the steps. Also, my water bottle filled with Gatorade is keeping the flies away, apparently, because each time I go to drink some, I am greeted with a few new drowning victims.

Note to self: I still strive to write. Do I write on a new blog, or this one? Daily writing? 1000 words. go.

Group Poem

Last week in my teaching program, we did a fun little exercise where everyone at each table got out a piece of paper and wrote one line of a poem. It could be a favorite line from a favorite poem, or a line the person just came up with. When time is called, you pass the paper to your left and receive the paper from the person to your right, and add a line to their poem. You do this until the original person gets their poem back. The purpose of the poem project is to read what the people before you have written and stay true to the story, but also add to it.

Here is the poem I started, and my classmates finished:

The pretty girl to my right,
Doesn't even know my name.
She is always there, right beside me.
Am I invisible to her sight?
Does she not see my pain?
Oh, if only she knew how I really felt, I could wrap my hand around her belt.

Letter to My Children

Mom and Dad,

Thank you for the box of cookies and the card! The 7-layer cookies were shared (really!) with my roommate and a few of my new friends here at college. I can't wait until Thanksgiving when I can see you two and all my old friends again.

Things are going great so far! Everyone is so friendly and I am really liking my classes, especially my History course. The professor is really funny, and he challenges us at the same time. One of our big papers due at the end of the semester has to do with comparing a big event in our lifetime with a big event in our parent's lifetimes. Would either of you be able to help me with that?

Looking forward to November,
Grace

PS: Sending more cookies is OK.

---

Grace,

Hope this batch of cookies made it to you! Dad may have taken one or two before I was able to tape the lid shut...

We're happy to hear your first semester at college is going well! Dad got caught up in your question and spent days writing a response to your question, so I passed on this homework assignment, professor. Here is his response, see you in just under a month:

Grace,

I'm glad you are having fun in college and your professors are giving you a good challenge. As for your question about a big event in my lifetime, I would say one of the biggest events was the election of Barack Obama as the first African American President of the United States. When he got elected in 2008, I was halfway through my teaching certification program at the University of Washington.

In 2000, Al Gore won the popular vote, but lost the electoral college, putting George W. Bush in office for his first term. In 2004, John Kerry lost to George W. in another close race. Both of those elections were heart-breakers for me, because it seemed obvious to me how dumb George W. Bush was, and how our nation was spiraling downward in almost every respect (Iraq War, Patriot Act, Economic Recession, Housing Crisis). In 2008, we had a very interesting election because Obama would be the first African American elected President, and on John McCain's ticket, Sarah Palin would be the first female Vice President. Many people think Obama ended up winning because McCain chose a prom queen from Alaska as his Vice President instead of a more conservative pick (aka old white male).

I remember election night on November 4th. I was invited to an election party (my first) with some of the other students in the teaching program. Caroline, a student who was also living with her parents at the time, invited a few people over to her place in Kenmore to watch the election. I headed up to Kenmore and I still remember the horrendous traffic on the way there, and the big rain storm. I had the windshield wipers on high, and still could not see. I secretly thought the big rain storm was a good metaphor for washing George W. out of office, whether McCain or Obama won.

I was one of the first to arrive at Caroline's house, and her parents were just getting reading to head out to a Republican election party. I think everyone who came over to Caroline's that night was rooting for Obama. As the night progressed, the news stations colored in the various states red for McCain and blue for Obama. Obama was looking good from the beginning, winning almost all of the electoral college votes in the North East (has your teacher told you about the old electoral college yet?).

Everyone in the house stayed pretty mellow, even though Obama was exceeding expected results. Back in the electoral college days, certain states were called "battleground states" because their voters were divided evenly between Democrats and Republicans. Ohio, Pennsylvania and Florida were the big three states both Obama and McCain needed to win in order to clinch the Presidency. Obama first won Pennsylvania. Then Florida. Then Ohio! We couldn't wait until 8pm, when the West Coast polls closed and predictions could be made for WA, OR and the big 55 electoral votes of California.

The INSTANT the clock turned 8pm, the news station reported that Obama was predicted to win all three states. The bump in electoral college votes to his total nudged him over the 270 mark needed to clinch victory, and we cheers'd. Shortly after, McCain gave his address to the nation, surrenduring the election to Obama. McCain's speech was probably the highlight of the night for me, because before the election I really liked him. He was a person who seemed to reach across party lines to get things done. But when the election began, he veered way towards the Republicans in order to get their nomination, and ran a dirty campaign with commercials that distorted the truth about Obama (at least in Washington State). His speech reminded me of the original McCain that I liked, the McCain who is America first, politics second.

I remember waiting around for Obama to give his acceptance speech for a while. We were getting antsy, because we all knew how good of a speaker Obama was, and this would be the speech of his life. Now, I hope mom doesn't notice this part, because I've tucked it in way down here in the letter, but since you are in college I think I can let you in on the drinking game I started before Obama's speech. Every time Obama mentioned "America" "Change" "Unity" or "Freedom" everyone in the room had to take a sip from their alcoholic beverage. I obviously would not recommend this until after your 21st birthday, but it does spice up acceptance speeches!

Obama gave his great speech and the camera kept panning to Oprah Winfrey and Jesse Jackson in the Chicago audience, weeping. Obama must have said the four key words three dozen times, because everyone's drinks were finished, and after I finished my beer I counted an additional 20 drinks I was supposed to take (but since I was driving, I called a rain check--don't drink and drink, EVER!!). Caroline's parents actually made it back to the house before Obama gave his speech, because they were actually closet Obama supporters (with lots of Republican friends). Even they participated in the drinking game, albeit with soda instead of more intoxicating beverages.

I happened to bring an old bag of fireworks to Caroline's, just in case Obama pulled out the victory. I had roman candles, bottle rockets, tanks, sparklers and bees. We walked up the street and fired them all off and had a great time. The neighborhood was a really nice one, and I assumed mostly Republican, which made shooting off the fireworks that much better! The fireworks marked the end of the night for the party and I drove home with a really good feel for the future of the United States. I actually saved this quote from the Los Angeles Times the next day:

World reaction to Obama victory: Elation

"There's a feeling of hope that things will be right in America," Randa Habib, a Jordinian writer and political analyst said Wednesday. "Obama can make you once again respect the U.S. for its values and democracy and all those things we had forgotten about over the last eight years."

This quote accurately describes how I felt about his election. The biggest reason I voted for Obama, even more important than our crumbling economy, was the World's view of America as a bully. With Bush, our standing in the world was terrible. I felt the most important aspect of the election was our World standing, and I knew the World wanted a change from the boarish Republican foreign policy. Obama's election put a smile on my face and I knew our country was finally taking a step in the right direction after 8 years of idiocy. Obama's biggest difference from Bush is that Obama actually listens, instead of just talking in generalizations.

One of the most noticeable things about the 2008 election was the voter turn out. Records were set for voter turn out that year, and the surge in voters continued to all elections since. 2008 was a big turning year for people to get out to vote, and for people of all races to feel like their voices and votes were important.

Love you, hope this helps!
Dad

Your Smile

I sit at a hexagonal table with five of my classmates,
Bored to tears as the lecture drones on.
Hands holding up my head,
But nothing helps my eyelids,
and I drift...

I yawn and wipe away a tear,
I lean back in my chair,
Stretching, hoping for energy,
from somewhere--anywhere.
Nothing.

I glance around the lifeless room,
The professor, happy in her own world.
The constant question-asker, asking questions.
And you, looking back at me.
You crack a smile,
and my smile magically appears.

Nyquil

You were my addiction,
The only way I slept,
In my dormitory room.
I kicked the habit
During that summer of love.
But here you are again,
In my sickness,
My time of need.
I gave you a sideways glance,
Then ripped off your wrapper,
In an uncontrolled fever of desire.

Holding the first cup up to my lips,
I remember back to my childhood,
Hating you.
You tasted terrible.
You still taste terrible.
And you still make my body convulse,
Writhing in agony,
After each shot down my throat.

But you do a damn good job.
Now I go to slee...
zzz

Dark Dreams (part 1)

Friday, December 5, 2008
Seattle, WA
9:00pm

Rain continues to fall, as it has been doing all week. In downtown Seattle, Christmas decorations line the streets with an occasional token decoration for other religions. Lights everywhere, trees everywhere. It is hard to tell the difference between street lights and Christmas decorations during the day, but at night, in the rain, and from behind the visor of a motorcycle helmet, it is nearly impossible.

Jason waits patiently at a stoplight atop his black Kawasaki Ninja 650. He is wearing full protection gear, from his black helmet to his black boots, including his black waterproof synthetic jacket and pants. Jason turns his head to the left and watches a couple walk arm-in-arm under an umbrella, leaving Pacific Place. He wishes he could trade places with the man under the umbrella. Jason notices the cross light turn yellow and he reverts his attention back to the road. Two and a half blocks later, Jason turns left into an underground parking lot entrance. He punches #5325 on the keypad and the gate slowly rises.

The parking lot, usually full during the day, is nearly empty on a Friday night. Jason slowly winds his way down two levels to the bottom floor of the parking garage, where a black Ford Explorer and two men await. He backs the motorcycle into the driver's side parking space and he turns to the SUV. Jason cannot see well through his rain-covered visor and the tinted windows of the SUV, so he flips up his visor. Still no movement from the SUV. He wonders what sort of game his contact is playing. This isn't the first time Kevin and Jason have worked together, and he saw Kevin's large frame in the driver's seat when he rode in. Jason wonders if Kevin has fallen asleep, so he leans towards the vehicle and knocks on the window with the hard plastic on the back of his black armored gloves. Still nothing.

Jason does not like to play games. With the motor still running and the bike in neutral, Jason sets the kickstand and hops off the bike. He walks around the front of his bike towards the SUV when he notices through the front windshield that Kevin's torso is now slumped over the steering wheel. Jason stops in his tracks--not because of Kevin's slumped body, but the movement he sees in the backseat. He bolts for his bike and a second later the driver's side SUV back door swings open.

Jason straddles his Ninja, rocks forward off the kickstand while flicking the bike into first gear with his left foot and guns it. Once he is twenty feet away, he swings his head around to try and catch a glimpse of the other man. Fortunately for Jason, he turns just in time to see the other man wind up and throw a shiny object directly at him. He ducks and the object makes a metallic "klink" off the back of Jason's helmet. He does not look back a second time.

Halfway up the parking garage, he hears the Ford Explorer's motor start. Jason races his way to the top of the parking garage and hopes the garage door will open for his motorcycle. He can hear the screeching tires of the SUV a level below, and the garage door is not opening. Jason idles back and forth at the sensor, but the garage door is not lifting. Time is running out.

Jason spots the emergency exit door to his right. He spins his head around and can see the lights of the SUV rounding the turn to the top floor of the parking garage. Jason lines his bike up with the emergency exit door and guns it. He opens the throttle and pops a small wheelie, just enough for the front tire to line up with the push-bar on the emergency exit door. He slams into the door and it bursts open. Jason's front tire crashes to the ground and he sets both feet on the sidewalk to steady the bike. And then a crash.

The SUV smashes into the wall at the emergency exit. All Jason can see is the front grill of the Explorer through the open doorway. He flips down his visor and quickly makes his way to the I-5 express lanes heading north.

Story Telling

The art of story telling is something that has always perked my interest. From campfire ghost stories to fairy tales and from mythology to science fiction, I love a good story. I've never been much of a story teller myself, but I think it would be a fun skill to pickup, especially going into the teaching profession.

The movie "Big Fish" is a favorite of mine due in large part to the main theme of story telling. It takes the entire movie for the main character to realize the importance of story telling to his father. I can relate to the main character because until the end of college I was always a very big thinker and not much of a feeler. I now choose not to separate the two. A small story from "Big Fish" is of the main character when he was born. He popped right out of his mom and shot clear across the room and out the door and kept on sliding until a nurse with a quick eye and a quicker hand snatched him up off the hospital floor.

The main character obviously would not remember his birth, but by the time he is in his 30s he has long since realized the story he was told by his Dad couldn't be true. For a long time he thinks his father is nuts to keep fabricating stories and stretching truths. On his death bed, the father tells him the real story, about how his mother gave birth to him in the middle of the night while he had to work the late shift at the factory. Not a very good memory, and in his father's eye, one worth spicing up.

I have to say that I'm a believer that truth can be much stranger than fiction, and the most fun I have reading fiction is when it is as close as possible to truth. I can see the main character's frustration in never being told the complete truth. Last winter I read "The Kite Runner" and was completely engrossed in the story until the story neared the end and just became too fantastical for me to believe. Sort of like the most recent Indiana Jones movie where I enjoyed the movie until the monkey scene... I mean... come on.

What is weird about how I treat truth and fiction is that a series like Harry Potter really appeals to me. Even though the world is magical, the parameters the author has set in the fantastical world hold true, and there are countless aspects of our current reality that make their way into her books. If I create a story set in the 1800s, and a guy walks through the scene with a laptop, I'd better explain where this guy and his technology come from, or the story loses rules to its world. Much like bluffing in poker, actually. If your bluff does not make sense, it will be more likely to be snapped off than a well-thought out bluff. Calling with a flush draw and not hitting, then betting big on the river with a six-high broken flush draw, because now bluffing big is the only way to win the hand, will be much harder to believe than someone calling with air, then betting out when the third flush card comes on the turn or river.

I'm interested in creating short stories involving different people in my life. Friends, family members, online friends, WoW experiences--but interweaving fact and fiction. There are a lot of interesting people in my teaching program, and I often wonder what their lives outside of class might entail. I could use my imagination and create fictional worlds for them, but in order to make sense, those fictional worlds would have to lead those characters to be who they are today. There is a high chance that the person I see in class is much different than the person they are at home, and weaving that into stories would be fun as well. I mean, just think of the fun stories you could come up about your favorite bloggers?

Photographer's Block / Easter

Well shoot, after joining Betty's blogger photo project and uploading a handful of pictures, I haven't added anything since. Week 13 was "Luck" and Week 14 was "Easter," and I honestly couldn't think of anything I wanted to take a picture of for either of those prompts. I could take a picture of playing cards--the ace of spades--or maybe some dice, but it just didn't seem worth the effort. I didn't do anything special for Easter this year, unlike Jessica, who dyed some eggs (and for some reason hasn't uploaded those photos to the blogger photo project!).

I don't have an egg to take a photo of, nor do I have a chocolate Easter bunny laying around (and if I did, it would be ear-less or have a big chunk taken out of its rear end). For me, the purpose of the blogger photo project isn't about the subject of the photos, rather it is about getting me out and more familiar with my camera. Which is why any excuse I try and make is lame.

I've only taken one picture over the last two weeks, and it had nothing to do with photography, other than I thought a picture would do a better job of telling the story than me trying to describe the situation:



Yes, that is a bowl of Trader Joe's clam chowder with a school of goldfish swimming to and fro. Eat your heart out, Astin. I'm coming for your "best cook" title in the blogosphere.

Instead of trying to dig into my psyche and figure out why I don't want to take photos, I'm going to write about Easter instead of photographing it.

Growing up, my family would dye eggs every Easter. Multi-colored eggs with invisible wax crayon drawings and messages. I would play mad scientist and try to see how many different color layers I could put on one egg. It usually didn't turn out too hot. Dyeing Easter eggs was fun and all, but there was another tradition that takes the Easter cake.

The Egg Hunt.

What kid doesn't love searching through the house for plastic Easter eggs?? The fact that my Dad enjoyed hiding the eggs more than my greedy sister and I liked finding them, made the annual egg hunt last until my sister headed off for college. Sara and I will never be too old to search for plastic Easter eggs, especially when those plastic eggs have a little jingle to them.

Dad would hide the eggs all over the living room and kitchen. In the toes of shoes, in potted plants, behind the fireplace, behind books, in magazines, in the card drawer, under chairs, under cushions of the couch, etc. Those were the normal spots my sister and I would hit first. Dad would get tricky and place eggs in lampshades and under the cover of the piano keyboard--where we would have never looked if not for his nods, glances and hints. Of course, every year he would forget where he placed a few eggs, and they would show up days or weeks later. My parents would also make sure that my sister and I were even on eggs, and my bigger bully of a sister (and admittedly quicker than me at finding Easter eggs) would have to either give up some of her eggs, or wait for me to catch up.

If I were in her position, I would have thrown the biggest temper tantrum imaginable. Take my eggs?! Oh HELL no! You're welcome for making you such a patient and loving individual, sis :)

(hah)

Hot Tubs

Two hours of tennis, one hour of racquetball, and 2 1/2 hours of running full court basketball left me in a coma-like state when I arrived home 30 minutes ago. I grunted forcefully as I sat down in my usual living room chair, and as soon as my bruised left butt-cheek hit the cushion, I knew I wouldn't be able to get up for at least 5 minutes. My knees were sore, my butt was sore--pretty much my entire body was sore. Standing upright in a shower didn't sound like a great idea at all, so I turned to one of my favorite man-made creations in history: The Hot Tub.



It was dark outside, so skinny dipping wasn't going to scare the neighbors. I have no problem wearing a swim suit while I hot tub, but the dang things get so wet that drying off becomes a pain. No suit and drying off takes about 8 seconds! Not to mention the freedom, FREEDOM!!! that only skinny-dipping can bring. I wasn't quite sure if the hot tub would make my knees better or worse, but they feel fantastic right now, as does the rest of my body. Hot tubs are magic.

As I sat there getting a back massage and foot massage simultaneously by the jets on either side of the hot tub, I got to wondering... what are my favorite hot tubs? This got my mind going, and I thought back to a few hot tubs long ago. I think the first hot tub I was ever in was at Iron Springs, WA, which is on the north end of Long Beach. It was an indoor hot tub, and the family went out there for a couple of Easters in a row. One of my parents' friends had a place out there that we stayed in one year, then the next year we rented a little cabin. I don't really remember any good stories from that hot tub, I couldn't have been older than 5 or 6 at the time, which is why it didn't make my...

LIST OF THE 5 GREATEST HOT TUBS VISITED BY MHG!!!

I can hardly contain myself, eee! There really isn't any criteria other than the fact that these top 5 stand out in my memory someway, and #1 stands out more than #5. So, without further adeu, I present to you:

#6 Portland(honorable mention)
Not a grand hot tub by any means, but I really enjoyed sneaking into the hot tub at "The Wimbledon" apartment complex in Portland with Stacey. We got a couch off of craigslist the first day we were in Portland, and still had our (crummy) Budget truck, so we decided to make use of it and grab as much furniture as possible from around the city on that first day. Turned out a girl who had graduated from Reed College and stayed for the summer was moving out, and wanted to get rid of her couch.

While we were carrying it out of the apartment complex, she said something about feeling free to come on by and use the hot tub whenever--the complex didn't check ID's and there wasn't a key entry. Sweet. Stacey and I made the trip down to Southeast Portland a handful of times and made use of the hot tub, while maintaining our cover as "friends of room 211."

#5 South Lake Tahoe
The Beach Club hot tub in South Lake Tahoe. The hot tub wasn't on the beach, but in their hotel near South Lake Tahoe's "strip." I think once upon a time when Stacey and I made a trip up to Tahoe when we were living in Sacramento, we stayed at the hotel, and really liked the hot tub. It has a waterfall down to another hot tub, and I remember thinking to myself, "This wouldn't be that hard to sneak into."

A few years pass, and I'm living in Tahoe. You better believe I am at that hot tub every Friday before hitting the poker tables. It wasn't every Friday, but I had to mix up my hot tub strategy, because if they start to recognize you, that's a bad thing. Who goes to the same hotel every week during the Spring, in Tahoe? I'd usually wear a hoodie. Sometimes I'd just walk right through the main office and say "Hi." Other times I'd wait in my car for others to go in, then pretend to be friends of theirs.

It was great to hot tub before hitting the poker tables. I'd visualize what I wanted to do, what I wanted to refrain from doing, and I'd just be in a great frame of mind to wreak havoc at the tables. I think sitting in this particular hot tub is where I first realized how much of a reality becoming a teacher could be.

#4 Big Sky, MT
These hot tubs are amazing. They are huge, and there are two of them side-by-side. The fact that they are at a ski-resort where one of my first college friends, Lauren, has a cabin, doesn't hurt! New Years 2001-2003 were spent out in Montana for Andrew and I. We'd drive out a few days after Xmas, and spent the entire day on the road, giddy for four or five days at a ski resort. We'd ski for three or four, watch all of the college bowl games on New Years, then drive back to Seattle on the 2nd.

Lauren's cabin/condo was a very brisk one-minute walk to the hot tubs. Five or six of us would head out to the hot tubs after dinner. I'd step out the door with a sweatshirt, a swim suit with a towel wrapped around my waist, and sandals. The 19-degree freeze would instantly hit me like a ton of bricks, and I would cough. My nose hairs made themselves known for the first time, as they froze into tiny little frozen shards as I try to breathe through my nose. I go back to breathing through my mouth and coughing every other breath to start out.

Watching the Seattlites scurry to the hot tub, trying to get to the heat of the hot tub, while carefully avoiding black ice along the way--must have been a site for the locals. We'd finally get to the hot tubs, and they would usually be packed. 40 or so people in the hot tubs--not ideal, but everyone was on vacation and having a good time, so the 40 people were all friendly and good to have conversations with. It snowed on us while we were in the hot tub a couple times over the years, and that was an amazing feeling. We'd watch the steam rise from the hot tub and evaporate the flakes as they fell. Everything is white except for you and the hot tub water.

#3 Chateau LaCoste
Kristina's hot tub. Easily one of the coolest rooms in a house I've ever seen. The solarium, which is filled with plants and is made out of entirely wood, has a hot tub. The ceiling is all window, so you can sit in the indoor hot tub and look at the stars all night long. When I lived at Kristina's for January and February this year, my first mission was to get her hot tub working again ASAP. I had a hiccup to begin with, but I eventually got the sucker working, and it was marvelous.

More than a few times we got to take advantage of the amazing hot tub. We'd grab a bottle of wine, turn off all the lights, and blast Radiohead or Ani DiFranco while sitting in the hot tub staring at the stars. When we got hot, we'd open a window and hop outside onto her deck and see how long we could last in the freezing cold before having to hop back into the hot tub. The stars were even more amazing out on the deck. Nevada City isn't the largest city on Earth, and she has very few lights out in the woods--but when you have that many stars, who needs lights?

#2 Sweet Home, Seattle
Might as well near end close to home. My Dad got permission from my Mom to get a hot tub 15 or so years ago. Not many dirty stories on the home-front hot tub, I try save that for other peoples' hot tubs! I did have a lady friend take my suit off once, when she didn't think I'd let her... but that is about as dirty as it gets. Maybe slightly dirtier, but my memory is hazy. "My" hot tub ranks #2 simply because it has more stories than any other hot tub out there. I've obviously used it many many more times than any other hot tub, so the fact that it has the most stories isn't too surprising.

I've had two-hour-long conversations with my Dad about life, love and his life and what regrets he's had. He hasn't had many. I love hearing about his past, and what made him the man he is today. He imparts wisdom on me every time we're out there, whether I want his tips or not. Compound interest, yes Dad, I know what it is. Yes Dad, I know, I took finance and accounting in college, I understand compound interest. The question he's asked me the most out in the hot tub has been:

"So, the thing I've never understood about poker is what happens if you have $100 and bet all your money, and I only have $99? I can't call your $100, so I have to fold? That doesn't seem fair!"

He's literally asked me this question AT LEAST 30 times in my lifetime, and probably a dozen of those in the hot tub. Sometimes I answer him, and tell him that he only has to call whatever he has left, and I'd just take a dollar back. He understands it for the night, then usually asks me again the next week if I talk about poker with him. Some times I'm not as nice, and agree with him, berate him, or make up a fantastical story about how you have to then put your watch in play, or your house, the title to your car, your oldest son, and even the shirt off your back.

But seriously, my Dad and I have had some amazing talks out in the hot tub, and those are the most memorable times I've had in our hot tub. A distant second would be finishing a tough day of skiing and hopping in the hot tub with Andrew. We are in coma-like states like I was today, then my Mom walks outside with two plates of dinner--salisbury steak, rice and corn. And lets us eat dinner in the hot tub. Oh my God, that was heaven.

#1 Sun Mountain Lodge
Where to start, where to start... I guess #5 will have to be the hot tubs at Sun Mountain Lodge, in Central Washington. Sun Mountain is this little resort near Winthrop, WA. Winthrop pretty much survives based on tourism. In the winter, the rich go to Sun Mountain to cross country ski and lounge in style by the humongous fire places and yes, hot tubs. In the summer, all of the poor families come with their little poop-machine kids and ransack the place.

OK, not quite. The place is high class though. We once ate dinner and saw the guy who made those "WE WON'T BE UNDERSOLD!!!" commercials, where he got hit with a pie in the face at the end of every 30 second clip. Man, YouTube needs to get its act together and get one of the old commercials up. I can't remember if he was in auto sales or if he had a furniture warehouse, but that guy with the funny looking face and barbie-wife was a fixture in the Seattle community for at least a decade from 1985-1995. Actually, we didn't even notice him first, we noticed his wife with about 10 layers of makeup on. I asked, "Isn't that the wife of that guy in the commercials?" Then I realized the guy in the commercials was sitting across the table from her.

But lets get back on track. The hot tubs at this place were amazing. The main pool's hot tub you could swim mini-laps in if you wanted to. There were little pods all around the deep end of the hot tub, so people could set their drinks on them while they schmoozed. Of course, as a kid, it was my goal in life to hop from pod to pod across the hot tub without falling in the water lava. I don't think I ever did make it all the way across.

There were two other hot tubs at the other cabins, and each had a 10pm curfew. But again, I was a kid, and what do kids do best? That's right, get into mischief! We'd scurry around at night, dodging the bats that swooped down every few minutes to try and use my blond hair for their nests.

The best times were when my sister was off at college, and I got to invite Marc up for the few days in paradise. He has a better hot tub story than I, but I'll leave that for him to blog about... once he starts up a blog. The Sun Mountain hot tub in Marc's story has since been concreted over, and I'm pretty sure whatever Marc and that girl were doing in the hot tub led to the masonry. Oops, I've said too much!

But yes, all of the years, all of the change, and all of the hot tub nights with chocolate mouses make the Sun Mountain hot tubs the clear-cut #1 when it comes to hot tubs I've visited.

Oiy Vey

((Yes, I just added a japanese potty-training video to my links at the right. I don't know what you're thinking, but the video had me rolling!))

Sore throat and running nose didn't keep me from playing ultimate today out at Greenlake. Maybe it wasn't the smartest idea, but being cooped up inside is no fun. Although... it was fun staying in and playing in Kat's donkament last night. I had a lively table of Kat, Waffles and Bayne until Waffles got knocked out, then I got knocked out in 10th.

I feel I should be writing right now. Not a blog entry, but something more creative.

"But, why don't you just make your blog entry creative?"

No, shut up.

I think my problem is that I need more structure than how I currently write (or don't write). I know a story or fun idea won't always come to me the same way, and that I have to be flexible, but I need to get past the point I am at right now, which is: Holy crap an actual story is a lot to write. I've had some fun ideas that I want to try out, but I don't know where to start and just give up before I begin.

The past few weeks I've set a goal to either read or write for 30 minutes before I go to bed. I've been on a long stretch of non-book reading, and it feels good to go to sleep with a good book again. I'd like to push the 30 minutes to an hour eventually, but I know with school starting up on Monday and a job eventually to follow, I'd rather set a goal I can attain, instead of reaching too high too quick.

It'd be nice to con myself into writing once or twice a week, and do nothing but write for that hour or half hour. Once I get something down, I think the writing process will pick up speed, especially if I know I'll be following up in a day or two.

I guess that is my goal for the rest of the weekend. Take my laptop somewhere and just write. No looking for wireless internet to steal. No distracting myself with poker or WoW. Just get something on the page!

Seattle, she just keeps you guessing

I don't see how people get depressed in Seattle. I was walking to school this morning, and it was a bit chilly and overcast. No rain, just a big shroud of gray over the city. When I left school this afternoon, the exact same shroud of gray was covering the city... it was like I hadn't missed anything at all! In California, when I went in to work in the morning, the sun was just starting to wake up on one side of the sky. When I left, it was ready to go to bed on the complete other side! Talk about a wasted day...

But, as much as I love Seattle, it really is one of the worst possible places in the U.S. to be a high school tennis coach. I must have checked the weather report a dozen times today. Our tennis practice got rained out at the last second yesterday, and I really didn't want to have to hop onto a yellow bus, drive 30 minutes, only for the tennis meet with Bothell to be rained out. The most reliable weather source out there had a 30% chance of rain in the greater Seattle area from 2pm through 8pm. The tennis match was from 3pm-6pm. Three hours, each with a 30% chance of rain. I didn't like my odds of staying dry this afternoon!

But, I did! I got all 20 of my guys a match, and we ended up losing 4-5 in the nine matches that counted. It was pretty brutal, we were tied at 3-3 after the six singles matches, and it came down to the doubles matches for the second meet in a row. Two of the doubles matches were tied at 5-5, playing a pro-set to 8, and we were up 6-1 in the third doubles match. So we only had to win one of the close matches to win the meet.

We ended up losing the #1 doubles match 6-8. So we then had to win both of the other matches, which were at 7-8 bad guys and 6-3 us. The tight 7-8 game we end up getting to a tie-break at 8 all, and my guys end up pulling out the tie-break 8-6! I was really excited for the guys, because the tennis meet result was pretty much based on their match... but the match we were leading 6-1 was now tied at 6 all, no!! We end up losing that match 6-8, and lose the meet. Their opponents rallied from a 1-6 deficit to win seven straight games to take the meet. Depressing on our part, but I won't lose any sleep over it (that is the good part about coaching JV--wins and losses don't matter, whee!).

After the match results were done, we ended up playing a huge game of king of the court, while we waited for the exhibition matches to finish up. Their coach and a few players joined in, and we were having a great time. Tennis coaching is a blast when everyone is good sports and having fun. Their coach told me about the Inglemoor team, and the terrible calls they were making--so I'm not looking forward to that match.

In writing news, I'm going to make a healthy effort to get something I'm proud of over on Fun With Words each week. For the most part, I don't want it to be something I've just written up and posted right away, like I do here. I want to think it out and maybe write it the first few days of the week, give it a few days to settle, then go back and edit it and have it posted by Monday night. I have a few ideas, and I'll possibly be branching out into poetry and song writing, which I haven't really attempted before. I have a story idea for a topic given to me by my 11th grade teacher, Mr. Grosskopf: "Create your own Utopia." There were a few prompts, but it sounds fun to begin with, then gets extremely overbearing very quick. I can already feel myself slowing down and shying away from finishing whatever I start on the topic, but I'd rather hurl myself blindly at the topic than just ignoring it.

Creative Mood

Today was a fun one. I played tennis with my Mom for the first time in years. She said she hadn't played since Marc, the two Sara(h)'s, Mom, and I hit balls up at Sun Mountain four years ago. Yes, at one point both Marc and I were dating Sara(h)'s. He had the one with the H... sucker! Sara's brother was actually named Chris too, which was kind of odd, because my sister's name is Sara.

Before tennis, we watched a bit of the James Blake match and the Little League World Series. I have fun watching these things with my Mom, but they are things I rarely do on my own. I watched a bit of March Madness and the NBA playoffs when I was in Tahoe, but other than those, I haven't really paid much attention to sports. But at home, I watch a lot, because it is a nice bond that Mom and I share.

James Blake came from behind to win his match, and the two little league games we caught went to extra innings. Each ended with a walk-off home run. Winners hopping up and down; losers crying. The games are exciting to watch, I just wish there wasn't so much pressure on those kids.

Right now I'm watching a mix of my favorite you tube videos, Johnny Cash, Metallica, Ani DiFranco, Audioslave... and I'm watching a muted USA basketball team crush the team from the Virgin Islands. I'm just amazed that right now, on the court there is worth about a billion dollars in lifetime earnings. Five guys. Billions dollars. And they are all playing on the USA basketball team, risking injury and giving up their summer to play the sport they love. I definitely think more of these players now, they're pretty much proving that there is more to basketball than money--at least for them. I'm not exactly sure how their families feel about them giving up their summers, but that's another topic.

On to being creative...

I get nights like this every once in a while (I'm sure I've posted about it before), where I just feel a bit different than normal nights. I usually don't give a second thought to wasting the night playing a video game, watching TV and going to bed. Nights like these I just can't sit still, and wasting the built up energy feels painful. I want to create something amazing, something beautiful, while my creative juices are bubbling over.

Watching amazing bands at their infancy gives me a huge boost. Pearl Jam comes to mind:



And back on the opposite end of the spectrum, Johnny Cash and Woody Nelson:



Solid. Gold. The stories of Johnny Cash and Woody Nelson could fill a library. Seeing Eddie Vedder and Pearl Jam at their infancy is one of the coolest things about the internet and youtube, in my perspective. By now, Eddie probably has enough stories to start a library of his own.

If you listen to the start of "Drive On," Johnny Cash was reading lots of books about Vietnam, and from reading those books he creates this amazing song and personal lyrics from his head.

But when it comes to me, what can I really do? I know I can make a difference for the better in this world. It might come in the form of being a teacher who loves his job and makes a difference for a handful of my students. I might be a great coach who shows kids how much fun sports can be in the right situation. But when it comes to creating something great, I really tend to lack in that department.

There is a part of me that yearns to create. That is probably why I wrote so much and took so many pictures down in Tahoe. Taking pictures isn't really creating, but more capturing memories in my view. Putting those pictures together to make a video is getting closer, but I did a half-assed job at that, because I just wanted to get the thing done.

Being a film director, or an author, would be one of my ideal jobs. I have absolutely no skill in either field, but I think my imagination is one of the most imaginative out there. When I watch a movie or read a book, I always try to figure out what is going to happen next--like almost everyone else out there--but the difference is that the things I think up are just so "out-there" and unbelievable that I usually just laugh the ideas off. In a few cases, I hit the nail on the head and look like a genius. For the most part though, it is just kooky Chris and his zany imagination.

Whenever I read a good author, I always wish I had their ability. I think the creativeness is there, in all honesty. I just need to get my truthful thoughts down and not worry about who is going to read it.

A few months back, I read Dr. Pauly's first few posts on his blog, and they were very similar to the stuff I write. Day-to-day accounts of what is going on, with an occasional story or rant thrown in. When I read his blog now, it seems like he's a completely different writer--and he probably is, but I would love to know what made him undergo that metamorphosis. Was it just caring about his writing more, and giving it more attention? Or was it something deeper? Or was it just a conscious effort not to write like everybody else?

Also, like I've found out in my few failed NaNo's, I am very much a self-critic. Most of the time I'll just hit 'publish' after I'm done writing up a post, but sometimes I'll go back and check it for spelling or to see if the point I'm trying to make actually presents itself in what I right. When it comes to writing something big, like a novel, I have a hell of a time not going back and changing things at the instant I think they need changing. Maybe the story will go in a different direction than I originally thought, so the beginning needs to change. If I don't change that beginning right away, I think I'll forget to do it, or it will just plain bug me until I change it. But in the process of changing the beginning, I lose interest in writing the next section that brought about the change in the first place!

My creative mood is quickly being taken over by sleepiness. I'm debating going back through this and cutting about half of it out, but I think I'll go ahead and post it and read through it in the morning. I could always just save the draft and check it out in the morning, but where is the fun in that? How do you guys write? Do you write out a post and check it over? Do you give your post a night to rest, then give it a quick glance and publish it? Or do you just shoot from the hip?

Pirates v. Ninjas, Finale!

Head on over to mhg-rpg.blogspot.com to read the final installment of my first attempt at a little writing game. It was a lot of fun, and some of the comments made me take the story in an entirely different direction than what I was originally thinking. Other comments had me laughing my ass off :)

I have some ideas for the next writing game, but I'm definitely open for suggestions. I'm thinking either a World of Warcraft setting, a futuristic setting, or a possible ancient Rome or Greece setting. It isn't going to be a winner-take-all kill-fest like the Pirates vs. Ninjas, so if this one wasn't your cup of tea, I think you might still enjoy the next game.

Time for Kat's Donkament!