Rising again...

To show off yet another redesign idea. I hope people like this one. I'm finding Blogger's new design system to be quite nice. Don't be surprised if you see more more changes in the near future.

*blows dust off the blog*

Hello all five readers! I'm still writing my little insane project, but I have some grand news. I have broken 50,000 words. In other words, I have pulled off NaNoWriMo in January, as opposed to November.

It's a very strange feeling to reach that goal (and I'm not done yet). Looking at all the other scribbles that I've done, nothing has reached this level. And I need to do more, which requires more research into crime, the Victorian underworld, smuggling and perhaps affairs of the human heart. And maybe research into a good jelly roll recipe. I'm not sure how everything will be incorporated, but the jelly roll should be pretty damn awesome.

In any case, my present to myself will be a bowler hat for reaching 50k words. If I hit 100,000 words, I'm getting myself an editor.

I just wanted to report that I'm not dead, the blog isn't dead. I'm just lost in a world of my own creation.

Temporary blackout

PEOPLE OF EARTH (said in the style of Kronos, King of the Monkey People -- Google it):

There is a temporary blackout on this blog. The writer has become obsessed with a story idea and needs to beat it out of her head. When she eventually drops the idea, then she will probably return to this.

THANK YOU FOR YOUR TIME.

NaBloPoMo: Not with a bang, but a whimper

So I did it! I completed all 30 days of NaBloPoMo. This post is the last one for the month, and I have to say that it's been an interesting month overall.

I have to say that I don't feel like I accomplished anything at all. I don't feel like my creative muscles got stretched or that I feel more creative. Really, I feel like I half-assed my way through this month. It could be that I am unnaturally hard on myself, but that doesn't matter. If you don't have the results you want, you're not happy. And really, I am the person I have to live with. If it's not good enough for me, well then, I'm pissed.

Reading my friend K.'s post about her finishing NaNoWriMo, I was struck by this:

So yeah, do something pointlessly creative today, if that's your thing. Draw a cool picture, strum a little song, punch a poser in the face (oh wait, er...) Anyway, do something fun and creative. You don't have to share it. Unless you want to :)

Besides the idea of punching a poser in the face (which I'm always tempted to do), I think that her post is a reminder of all the little half-projects I have sitting around. The half-baked concepts, the cool scenes, the random characters that swim around and are written about, but then left half-finished.

I will start with a whine -- I've noticed that since I had my daughter, it's harder to write. Which is weird. I had a job that I worked 10-14 hour days sometimes and I still managed to write on this blog and come up with ideas. I noticed that with NaBloPoMo, after the Empress of the Universe went down for the night, I would often sit and stare at the screen, drooling slightly like I had lost my damn mind. No words would flow. I couldn't write about all the ideas that I had in my head.

They say that when you have a kid, some of your brain cells die. I think that there's something to that. I mean, I can't focus on writing sometimes anymore. I don't feel like I have anything to say. Or what I have to say is proto-thoughts -- they're not even at the point where I can write them down.

This isn't an announcement that this blog is shutting down. Oh hell no. I just don't think that I can do a post everyday. The fermenting time for my ideas is taking longer and requires more patience. I suppose it's because most of my brain is now occupied by this:



Seriously, the pitch that this kid sings in is enough to make you do that "Dog-In-Pain-Thanks-To-High-Pitched-Whistle". This isn't a slight against the kid in the wheelchair -- I think it's a good educational tool to point out differences and how kids shouldn't fear them. I'm just saying that the pitch the kid is singing at is PAINFUL. And it's one of my kid's favorite videos. I think she's trying to torture me.

So yeah, I can't promise that I will post everyday or that everything will be a gem, but I would say please be patient with me. I think that right now I have to learn a new way of writing that meshes with my family life and other responsibilities. I know things may change years from now, but that's YEARS. I don't think I can keep my narcissism and exhibitionism bottled up for that long.

NaBloPoMo: Yeah....maybe I get an E for effort. Or "S" for SUCK

Wow. I have realized that it's a pathetic thing to basically have no idea what the hell to write for NaBloPoMo. We're Day 5 in the project and let's see what I have done:

1. Youtube videos of puppets and Craig Ferguson.
2. My kid wrote a blog post.
3. One vaguely beefy post about being a concert asshole.

This is admittedly pathetic. It's lazy, half-assed and well, sad. Like someone doing NaNoWriMo but using "SUCK" 50,000 times. Which I haven't done. Yet.

I don't have any good excuses. I think the problem is that all my ideas are half-formed, barely baking and barely there. A lot of time that I would normally use to cook up ideas has vanished -- lost in a vortex of sleepless nights (DAMN YOU DAYLIGHT SAVINGS BULLSHIT), trying to get Trogdora fixed up (new hard drive will arrive soon) and just half-assed laziness.

I feel like Julie Powell in the movie Julie and Julia when she says, "I HAVE THOUGHTS! I COULD WRITE A BLOG!" I have thoughts. I have ideas. But they're not firm yet. And honestly, it's hard to write something when it's not even a rough sketch in your head.

So I suppose this is an indicator of how the month will go. If you are brave and willing to stick with me, that's great. If not, I understand. I was hoping that this would help jump start my writing portion of my brain, but so far, no luck.

Grarg. Anyone have ideas on how to deal with writer's block? Besides writing about it?

NaBloPoMo: Let's try this again.

In the past, I've done National Blog Posting Month. I've tried doing National Write a Novel Month, but seriously, it ends with me watching Vh1 and doing stupid shit like screaming at the television ("FOR REAL! WHY DO YOU NEED SO MUCH HAIR GEL?")

So here we go!

Y'all been warned. I have no idea what I'll write about, but I figure at least I can kick some stuff out and write. I need to do more of that anyways, since lately, I've been feeling like I've been stagnating, so this should be an interesting exercise.

To inspire me, I'm going to ask my dear, devoted readers (all 10 of you) to throw me some questions. Just in case the well runs dry.

Whoa! Where the hell have I been?

Wow. I just realized it's been awhile since I updated (not that anyone's noticed). I just wanted to say that I'm not dead. Perhaps it's Twitter that's taking up my writing time -- I mean, 140 characters is a lot of fun to play with right now.

I do have posts kicking around in my head right now, but well, tonight is not the time to write. Nor is the next few days. There's big things, little things and odd things going on and really, now is not the time (while I'm full of a glass of wine and tired as hell).

So I guess what I'm trying to say is this: Sit tight. Not dead. Will post soon.

Happy 1000th post!

Holy shit! Can you believe it? I've hit the 1000th marker with my blog! Woot!

Now, because *ahem* five of you voted in my little lame poll, here it is: The NO PANTS PARTY!

No. You're not going to see my fat ass on this blog with no pants. But I did find some choice tidbits from Youtube for you:

Of course, you gotta start with Marky Mark!


And for a true no pants party, there's always Jimmy Eat World!



Then we go way back for the pantsless Donald Duck (can anyone explain why he's got a shirt by no pants?)



And there's always Will Ferrell in his underwear:



So yeah! Take off your pants and celebrate! This blog made it to it's 1,000th post! Through milestones like Benevolent Dictator, job changes, my muse wandering off, stupid news stories, elections and other stuff that makes me froth at the mouth like a rabid Badger! Thank you everyone for reading this (even if you stumbled on me via a "asian navel fetish" search)!

And remember: PANTS ARE NOT THE SOLUTION!

Quick poll

I just noticed that I'm on the verge of my 1,000th post on this blog! Go me! And I figure that I need to do something special to commemorate it. So I'm leaving it up to you, my dear reader(s) to tell me what the hell I should do:



I'll keep the poll up through the weekend and then you get to take control!

To summarize: I am lazy. Very, very lazy.

So on K's blog, she was talking about changing her blogging style and dealing with blogging fatigue:

I think also I don't feel the same need to blog about short, random stuff since I'm on Facebook all the goddamn time, thanks in part to my job, but also because it seems like the whole world is there now. I mentioned elsewhere about a Wired article that said that the age of the personal blog is all but done since MySpace/Facebook now serves that same purpose. I agree to a certain extent; I think blogging is by design moving over to focused topics and people tend to go to MySpace and whatnot for randomness and commentary (see: the elections)

What she wrote gave me this gut reaction of, "OH FUCK NO. I DON'T WANT TO HAVE TO SIGN UP FOR ANOTHER FUCKING NETWORK SITE TO KEEP IN TOUCH WITH PEOPLE."

I've got a Livejournal Account, Myspace and I'm resisting Facebook, Twitter and all this newfangled Web 2.0 crap. I never use my Livejournal account and you'll never find me on Myspace, despite my account.

This blog is all that I've got for my online presence, and really, I prefer it this way. For one reason:

I. Am. Lazy. Amazingly. Lazy. You're lucky I'm wearing clothes as I type this.

I hate keeping up on all the accounts. I just want one. I hate keeping track of everyone. I've tried Bloglines and I'm not satisfied with that. If there was a way to unite Livejournal, Facebook, Myspace and all that crap under one account, I'd MAYBE consider it.

I'll also admit, I've more effort into this blog than other online things (which isn't that much). Which is why I'm loathe to go anywhere else. Not to mention, I'd be saying the same damn thing over and over again, just on different accounts.

And I know blogging may go to more focused things and topics, thanks to Twitter and all that newfangled stuff, but I guess that I've always seen my blog as where I can air everything and anything -- from rambling essays to youtube videos and the nutty crap inbetween. But I guess that that's how I view my writing -- it's about anything and everything and my blog is an example of that. I'm not a specialist of writing -- I'm a merc -- I'll write anything and spout off about nothing. Just give me my soapbox.

Only one soapbox though. I don't need to be hopping on and off of boxes.

Random five things

1. I think I've given birth to a food critic. During my grandma's 95th birthday party, Benevolent Dictator discovered she likes Peking Duck, steamed buns and other goodies. Thank the heavens she likes Chinese food. I'd be sobbing if she didn't. She's also shown fondness for my homemade mac-and-cheese casserole. BD also apparently doesn't care for overcooked chicken or soft broccoli. At least she also likes tofu.

2. I've been stewing on the fact that I've become more domestic now that I'm home with the girl (and somewhat-on-but-mostly-off freelancing). I've planted more flowers in a weed spot, pulled weeds, cooked more and am trying to keep our house in a somewhat orderly fashion. It's not terrible. It's the "someday" stuff that I always fantasized about doing when I was pulling a 15-hour-day at work.

However, I am not a Martha Stewart. I've figured that if I'm now Hestia, this goddess is a martini-swilling, snarky smartass who sometimes wonders how the fuck she got here, and really, is kinda happy about it.

3. The neighborhood kids are a stitch. They adore Benevolent Dictator and are happy to help keep an eye on her while I do yard work. I think I have some babysitters set up for life.

Overheard from one of the kids, when asked what their friends were doing. "They're in my house playing little kid games." Mind you, the person saying that was seven.

4. More baby stuff -- Benevolent Dictator is doing proto-tantrums now. Whenever she's angry, frustrated or tired, she falls flat on her face and lays on the ground. Now she's moving along on the ground, her forehead pressed on the floor. I have no idea if this is normal, but it doesn't seem to be harming her, so I'm not too worried about it. Yet.

Her metamorphisis into Naomi Campbell is almost complete.

5. OK. I lied. I only have four things. The well is now dry again. I'm up for some directed inspiration. Dear readers, you tell me what to write about.

Still alive....

For the two of you wondering why the fuck I'm not being all chatty and all that, I just wanted to pop in and say that I'm still alive and that the nose-hair singeing scent of Benevolent Dictator's poopy diapers hasn't killed me.

I've just got some stuff kicking around in my head, a freelance writing gig due at the end of this week and random oddities going on right now. I guess that the best way to phrase this is that I'm fermenting ideas.

So, in conclusion, not dead. Just fermenting.

Hasta la Vista Babies!

This blog will be dark for the next couple of weeks. Jeff, Benevolent Dictator and I are heading to Florida to see Jeff's parents for two weeks of fun in the boiling hot sun. I might be able to sneak off to do a post or two, but we'll see.

Right now our house is a mess of clothes, toiletries and other items used for packing. For once, we have two suitcases -- one for me and Jeff and one for Benevolent Dictator's clothes, toys, books, blankets, bibs, spoons and other assorted odds and ends. I was serious when I said I needed a sherpa guide for stuff like this.

It doesn't help that Benevolent Dictator has also been attempting to help me pack for this trip. When I say "help" I mean, "unpack and inspect everything, then climb into the suitcase to test the structural integrity." It's be kind of amusing and I'm glad that I'm not stressing myself about packing. Talk to me tomorrow -- then I'll probably be a ball of stress and pissed-off nerves.

Anyways, we'll see ya'll later!

Here's the REAL reason why I had a kid

I needed something to blog about and as a narcissist, I was running out of ideas to keep people interested.

Wow. I'm glad to get that off my damn chest. Now I can get back to surfing the 'Net while my kid shoves her finger in the light socket and crawls down the stairs.

Well, that's apparently what Mommybloggers do according to an article featuring Her Bad Mother in a Canadian newspaper:

For some, giving up blogging is more knotty than just giving up a forum to vent. One of the top parenting blogs, Dooce, written by Salt Lake City mom Heather Armstrong, has been the target of criticism for both its frankness and its evolution into big business. "Dooce" is trademarked and filled with big-money ads - some observers have pegged her earnings to as much as $40,000 (U.S.) a month.

Such income is hard to abandon, says May Friedman, a PhD student at Toronto's York University who is writing a book on the parenting blogosphere. It can be especially complicated for someone such as Ms. Armstrong: Her audience has come to expect her irreverent, potty-mouthed writing, with occasional moments of disdain for her child, Leta.

The commenters are especially hi-larious. "Isn't this another form of pimping?" asks one reader, while another rants, "Problem is parents that sit and blog are actually NOT paying attention to their children. You know the old saying 'where are the parents.' Well their right here in front of you honey, but they are zombified in front of a screen."

What bothers me is how they call this exploitative to kids. Allow me to toss out a a question: How is this different than Vh-1's "I Know My Kid's a Star" or Erma Bombeck, Anne Lamott and others writing memoirs about their children?

For a lot of writers who become parents, their child becomes their main inspiration. Writing is about taking your observations and transmitting it to the world. In a brutal way, yes, writing is exploitation about the experiences a writer has. You have to be willing to put everything out there -- the good parts, the bad parts and the ugly parts -- to be a good and honest writer.

That being said, I have to add that as a parent, I'm trying to exercise more editorial control over what I blog about regarding my family life and all my writing. It's not perfect and it will change in the future. But without an editor (even if it's only me) this entire thing would degenerate into a gibbering mess. An entertaining, gibbering mess, sure, but a mess nonetheless.

I think that what bugs me with this article is the current "Look at the Internet! Any retarded monkey can write and publish! OH NOES!" framework that print journalism has about blogging and online publishing. Is the problem with this simply that anyone can put their voice out there, without an editor or gatekeeper deeming that it's fit for public consumption? Do we have to depend on tastemakers to say what's great and what isn't? In which case, my only response to that is that we're talking about tastemakers that deemed EPIC MOVIE and MEET THE SPARTANS movies that should be released to the general public.

Moments like this I keep reflecting on Anton Ego's line, "Not everyone can be a great artist, but great art can come from anywhere." And really, if something's not your style, why bother reading it and getting an ulcer? There's more productive things to do during the day. Like jacking off.

ETA -- I'm sure there's another post in here about how "mommybloggers" are unfairly ghettoized, but that's for another day. I already sense this bad boy getting a little out of control. Not to mention, my child's attempting to set fire to the carpet, so I should stop her.

I got nuttin but love for ya babies!

Courtesy of Her Bad Mother, I was directed to the OTHER Mother, who had organized a Reader Appreciation Day yesterday, which I missed out unfortunately.

But I started thinking about it today (when I had a free moment and Benevolent Dictator wasn't dismantling my keyboard) and even though I'm a day late, I gotta show some love for my readers -- all 12 of you guys who regularly show up and even the random people who roll by thanks to search results like "navel gazing," "naomi campbell's mom" or "girl playing navel."

So I guess I gotta say thank you dear readers for reading and putting up with my stupid questions, my naked neurosis, random observations that make me sound like a meth-addicted retarded monkey, oddball quips, the fact that I talk about my kid WAY too much sometimes, the excessive amount of quizzes and memes, the over-abuse of Youtube and the terrible spelling, half-assed ideas and wonky grammer.

Four years ago, this baby started thanks to a desire to make some smart-assed comments about Peg Lautenschlager's DUI arrest. Since then, this blog has become my notebook for jotting down ideas, my confessional and my soapbox. I never thought that I'd get attention (and I still am amazed when I see comments in my comment box). I just wanted to have a place to write down random ideas that I thought my friends would find funny.

Since I left my day job to become Benevolent Dictator's personal assistant, this blog has become more -- it's my main outlet for writing. It doesn't pay anything, but it's fun. I can't imagine going on hiatus. I can't NOT write (not to mention, my muse will kick my ass). There may be long pauses in transmissions (especially when Benevolent Dictator is kicking my ass), but I have to have somewhere to put my stuff out for complete strangers to read (if they want).

I'm of the belief that writers are exhibitionists in a way -- not the famewhorey reality-TV type of exhibitionist, but there's a belief that what a writer has to say is somehow more important and should be read by everyone.

I've always had that belief about my writing. I also believe that no one will actually read it, but no matter what, I want to keep tossing those bottles filled with messages out into the ocean in vain hopes that someone will pick it up and read the message. So I guess, thank you dear readers for picking up my bottles, opening them up and reading the messages. And I hope that in a way, they made you smile, laugh, think or lighten your day a little bit.

Oh noes! Save teh children frum teh ebil komix!

Trolling around Strollerderby the other day, I stumbled on this post blasting librarians using comic books to get kids to read more:

Must we dumb everything down?

Like teaching babies about numbers using Baby Einstein, or learning about vegetables by feeding them Lean Cuisine. Seems like the best way to teach kids to read, is to read to them. Failing that, how about the good old reward system? For every book you read, you get a star (which might not work in today's video game/movie preschooler set), or how about a new car?

The only thought that went flying by in my head (well after I finished reading my Hellboy books and BPRD) was "WTF?"

Who's to say that parents aren't reading to their comic-loving kids? Having pictures with the words isn't necessarily a bad thing -- all of Benevolent Dictator's books right now have pictures on every single page and little text. That's because she's a baby -- reading Moby Dick would make no sense to her right now.

It's almost like the writer didn't take into account some great and classic comic books such as Maus, Persepolis and even the stereotypical superhero comics which can be great works of art at times. It's ghettoizing of writing in my mind similar to when people deride science fiction, romance, mysteries and other genres.

Nothing to see here!

So I thought I'd try and futz with Blogger's customization widgets and create a new look for the blog. Yeah. Didn't work so well. Now it's a mess and my old template apparently doesn't work, thanks to XML error messages (don't ask me what that means).

Sorry about the mess. I'll be working on that over the next few days. Until then, a few questions:

1. How do I get back my random quote generator so it'll work with Blogger's stuff?
2. How do I edit photos to fit the banner? Is there a particular size that works?

Arrgh.

NaBloPoMo ends NOW!

Well, I did my best. Now, with about five days to the end of NaBloPoMo, I have to call it done. Long story short, BD and I are traveling to a place where we won't have satisfactory Internet connection for a few days.

We're going to my mother's house. Jeff's off on a business trip and instead of acting like a single mother, I'd rather beat it home to see my sister and her family, as well as my mom and grandma for a few days.

I didn't hit the end like last year, but I think that now I have a good excuse. And really, that's good enough for me.

I should say that it was kind of entertaining to do. It was a great writing exercise and it reminded me that I do blog for a reason -- I have things to write about. And even with a baby, one can continue writing and offering unique thoughts. I just have to remember the best writing advice that I've ever seen:

"Write just 100 words a day."

Thanks to NaBloPoMo, it reminded me to keep following that advice.

I'll bite

Comment and I will:
1. Tell you why I friended you.
2. Associate you with something - fandom, a song, a color, a photo, etc.
3. Tell you something I like about you.
4. Tell you a memory I have of you.
5. Ask something I've always wanted to know about you.
6. Tell you my favorite user pic of yours.
7. In return, post this in your blog.

From Alan. I can't resist it. I find it kind of neat as a writing exercise.

You asked, I answered! The epic continues!

From QGM:

If BD grows up lovin' the gaming world as her parents do, what will you tell her if kids are mean and nasty (like they can be in the formative years) about her idea of fun and games (no pun intended)?

Intersting question. And with the whole Myspace hoax thing blowing up, I've been mulling over the whole thing about how cruel kids (and sometimes adults) can be to each other.

See, I hope that as BD grows, gaming will be such a norm around her (what with friends who game, trips to Gen Con, etc.), that it won't be something to be ashamed of. I hope that with role models like her mom, dad and their family friends, she'll just realize that gaming is a hobby much like other "normal" hobbies.

I also think that gaming is becoming the norm now -- adults play video games on the XBox 360 or PS3 and no one blinks an eye, whereas in the past, you were considered someone rather creepy and icky to be around. I think it's only a matter of time before the image of roleplaying changes along those same lines. I mean, it's a group activity that requires some social skills.

Fantasy and magic aren't seen as creepy anymore (well, except for those weird pictures of naked chicks and the mouthbreathing socially-inept guys -- but even gamers make fun of those people). I think that Harry Potter, LOTR and other movies like that have helped make these things mainstream, which in a way, helps people kind of understand why someone would want to play an elf or a halfling in a fantasy world.

Above everything else, I want BD to know that if someone doesn't like you, they'll find anything possible to not like you -- kids especially. I mean, if it's not gaming, she'll get teased or picked on because of the music she likes, the way she dresses or how weird her parents are (I mean, what mom uses the word "pigfucker"?). The trick is to not worry too hard about it. You can't make everyone like you and you can't stop people from being cruel. What you can control is how you react to it and how you let it change you.

But that's so hard when you're a kid. You want to fit in. You want to be accepted because it's safer than going it alone. Admittedly I was the social outcast who didn't give a fuck about what everyone else was doing -- well, I did enjoy antagonizing them at times. Her dad was the same in high school. I hope that she gets that sense of confidence from her mom and dad.

I guess my message to her would be, "So what if they tease you about gaming? Do you enjoy it? Do you have fun? Forget them then. Or tell them why you like it. And invite them to a game. I'm sure that Dad or someone else would love to run a quick adventure. I mean, where else can you take part in a story?"