I've just been reading my story bits and plot holes aside, I think i'm doing an okay job so far. I've always been laboring under the illusion that I could write and its nice to finally see something concrete come out of it. I have ideas as to where I could take the plot and there's a lot of room for me mess around with.
Problem is, my skill at writing is akin to an apprentice artist trying to carve a masterpiece alabaster statue (the kind that generally involve a naked woman of some sort) using a sledgehammer and a broken broom handle. In other words, not very skilled at all. Take this paragraph for example:
"I reach my hand to wipe my forehead and this time it obeys without question. Only my forehead isn't what it touched. Instead, a mass of bandages seemed to be wrapped around my forehead. No, not just my forehead. I grope around to discover that my entire head is wrapped in linen and gauze. Makes sense I guess."
I'm pretty sure i've broken some literary law somewhere and the authorities are seconds away from crashing through my window and clubbing me to death with a Thesaurus.......
Nope, guess not. But still.
You do get my point. There's some serious editing required here. This whole forehead debacle makes it sound like my character is obsessed with receding hairlines. Oddly enough, thats not the direction I want to take the story in.
Suggestions are always welcome.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Finish line
Its finally come down to it. My final fortnight of being a uni student. I guess I should start screaming in panic.
The prospect of graduation never felt truly real to me up until this point. Don't get me wrong, i've always known that I would graduate. Its just that it only felt like the logical albeit distant conclusion of this chapter in my life. Like the concept of tomorrow, or planning a trip, or simply whats over the horizon.
Now that its here I don't quite know how to feel about it. Its graduation season at UTS at the moment, and for the past two weeks i've seen proud parents and friends of people snapping pictures of their loved ones all dressed up in that silly robe and hat. It made me feel...jealous I guess. But mostly just happy that's not me. And I wonder why. I want to graduate. I want to get on with my life. I want to get that job, make that money, go to those places. I want to feel miserable with my workload, and I want to be happy at knowing that i've done my job well.
So why the ambivalence? I've asked myself this question a lot these past few days. I think at the end of the day, there are changes that have take place in myself before i'll be truly ready for the next step in my life. I'm at the threshold.
The only thing thats holding me back is the fact that i'm not ready to say goodbye to the parts of me I have to lose just yet. Or maybe i'm just taking too cynical a view.
I don't have to change.
The prospect of graduation never felt truly real to me up until this point. Don't get me wrong, i've always known that I would graduate. Its just that it only felt like the logical albeit distant conclusion of this chapter in my life. Like the concept of tomorrow, or planning a trip, or simply whats over the horizon.
Now that its here I don't quite know how to feel about it. Its graduation season at UTS at the moment, and for the past two weeks i've seen proud parents and friends of people snapping pictures of their loved ones all dressed up in that silly robe and hat. It made me feel...jealous I guess. But mostly just happy that's not me. And I wonder why. I want to graduate. I want to get on with my life. I want to get that job, make that money, go to those places. I want to feel miserable with my workload, and I want to be happy at knowing that i've done my job well.
So why the ambivalence? I've asked myself this question a lot these past few days. I think at the end of the day, there are changes that have take place in myself before i'll be truly ready for the next step in my life. I'm at the threshold.
The only thing thats holding me back is the fact that i'm not ready to say goodbye to the parts of me I have to lose just yet. Or maybe i'm just taking too cynical a view.
I don't have to change.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Prologue Part 3 - Mea maxima culpa
These past few weeks have been a blur. The first thing I remember since my “rescue” is waking up to find myself on an operating table. Anonymous doctors surrounded me and kept busy making this cut and that, speaking in muffled tones to harassed looking nurses. It took a full minute before anyone realized I was awake. One of the doctors simply shrugged, reached a bloodstained, gloved hand to a nearby IV drip and made a small adjustment.
Darkness again.
The next time I barely regain enough consciousness to remember must have been some time after the operation. The room is dark, and I can hear the soft whirrs and clicks off machinery nearby. My eyes refuse to open and my breath is hot and warm almost as if i'm smothered. I must still be in the medical facility. My entire head aches and my forehead throbs, the final hours of my captivity still lingering as a memory entombed within flesh.
I reach my hand to wipe my forehead and this time it obeys without question. Only my forehead isn't what it touched. Instead, a mass of bandages seemed to be wrapped around my forehead. No, not just my forehead. I grope around to discover that my entire head is wrapped in linen and gauze. Makes sense I guess.
But its not a good sign.
A small cough draws my attention to my left. I'm not alone in here. My voice cracks as I ask who it is.He or she doesn't answer. Truth be told I don't even really want to know who's there. A slow, dull ache begins to spread from my forehead down to my neck. The unpleasant sensation is quickly followed by a sharp stabbing pain across my face and I grit my teeth to suppress a grunt. My visitor must have noticed because within seconds I was out again.
This is starting to get old.
Its morning.
I'm finally well and truly awake. The room i'm in is small, but clean. A window with the blinds drawn shut filters in vertical slits of light across my rectangular confines. I turn my head, aware of some slight discomfort as I do so to take in the rest of my surroundings. Nothing in here but a small shower, toilet, a mirror and what looks like a cupboard. Not exactly home.
I sit up straight, stretch, and head for the shower. No point trying to leave without at least using the facilities. The water is hot and it burns like liquid fire but by the time I step out 10 minutes later, I feel like a new man. I dry myself with a towel hanging off a nearby hook and stand in front of the mirror to take a good look at myself.
Too bad the person staring back isn't me.
I look straight into the eyes of the stranger and see the same image reflecting back to infinity.
They've given me a new face.
I take my time to admire their handiwork. My hairline is different, my jaw set rather square. The angle my ears are tucked has been changed. My lips look wider. A quick check confirms that my gunshot scar is still there, albeit reduced. My nose is still broken though.
I begin to laugh.
They've changed just about every facial feature I could think of but my nose is still bent.
As I throw my mouth wide open I look at my now perfect set of teeth. Crowns, I assume.
I laugh even harder and grip the sink for support. I fight to breathe in between hysterics until my face turns red and i'm in tears.
Then I laugh some more.
Twenty minutes later and i'm strolling down the parking lot with a set of keys in my hand. The cupboard contained not only a tailored suit but a gun, a wallet stuffed with cash and cards and an ID with my new name on it. The keys were in the jacket pocket.
I stop for a moment to take a look around. To my left and right stretch rows of identical cars. All of them brand new, but not the latest model. In other words, good enough to blend in. I press the unlock button on the remote and the third car from my right winks its lights at me.
I guess that one's mine.
I step up to it, open the door and get into the driver's seat. Laid across the passenger seat is a brown manila envelope with the words “Welcome back” printed on it. I ignore it for now. There's going to be plenty of time to run errands for the Devil later. I check my gun, stick the key into the ignition and place my hands on the steering wheel. Easing the car out of the parking spot I pause for a moment and close my eyes.
I take a deep breath.
I open my eyes.
I put pressure on the gas pedal.
And I drive away.
Darkness again.
The next time I barely regain enough consciousness to remember must have been some time after the operation. The room is dark, and I can hear the soft whirrs and clicks off machinery nearby. My eyes refuse to open and my breath is hot and warm almost as if i'm smothered. I must still be in the medical facility. My entire head aches and my forehead throbs, the final hours of my captivity still lingering as a memory entombed within flesh.
I reach my hand to wipe my forehead and this time it obeys without question. Only my forehead isn't what it touched. Instead, a mass of bandages seemed to be wrapped around my forehead. No, not just my forehead. I grope around to discover that my entire head is wrapped in linen and gauze. Makes sense I guess.
But its not a good sign.
A small cough draws my attention to my left. I'm not alone in here. My voice cracks as I ask who it is.He or she doesn't answer. Truth be told I don't even really want to know who's there. A slow, dull ache begins to spread from my forehead down to my neck. The unpleasant sensation is quickly followed by a sharp stabbing pain across my face and I grit my teeth to suppress a grunt. My visitor must have noticed because within seconds I was out again.
This is starting to get old.
Its morning.
I'm finally well and truly awake. The room i'm in is small, but clean. A window with the blinds drawn shut filters in vertical slits of light across my rectangular confines. I turn my head, aware of some slight discomfort as I do so to take in the rest of my surroundings. Nothing in here but a small shower, toilet, a mirror and what looks like a cupboard. Not exactly home.
I sit up straight, stretch, and head for the shower. No point trying to leave without at least using the facilities. The water is hot and it burns like liquid fire but by the time I step out 10 minutes later, I feel like a new man. I dry myself with a towel hanging off a nearby hook and stand in front of the mirror to take a good look at myself.
Too bad the person staring back isn't me.
I look straight into the eyes of the stranger and see the same image reflecting back to infinity.
They've given me a new face.
I take my time to admire their handiwork. My hairline is different, my jaw set rather square. The angle my ears are tucked has been changed. My lips look wider. A quick check confirms that my gunshot scar is still there, albeit reduced. My nose is still broken though.
I begin to laugh.
They've changed just about every facial feature I could think of but my nose is still bent.
As I throw my mouth wide open I look at my now perfect set of teeth. Crowns, I assume.
I laugh even harder and grip the sink for support. I fight to breathe in between hysterics until my face turns red and i'm in tears.
Then I laugh some more.
Twenty minutes later and i'm strolling down the parking lot with a set of keys in my hand. The cupboard contained not only a tailored suit but a gun, a wallet stuffed with cash and cards and an ID with my new name on it. The keys were in the jacket pocket.
I stop for a moment to take a look around. To my left and right stretch rows of identical cars. All of them brand new, but not the latest model. In other words, good enough to blend in. I press the unlock button on the remote and the third car from my right winks its lights at me.
I guess that one's mine.
I step up to it, open the door and get into the driver's seat. Laid across the passenger seat is a brown manila envelope with the words “Welcome back” printed on it. I ignore it for now. There's going to be plenty of time to run errands for the Devil later. I check my gun, stick the key into the ignition and place my hands on the steering wheel. Easing the car out of the parking spot I pause for a moment and close my eyes.
I take a deep breath.
I open my eyes.
I put pressure on the gas pedal.
And I drive away.
Prologue Part 2 - Out of the frying pan
I awake to something wet dripping down my forehead.
Struggling against renewed pain, I crack one eyelid open, and then the other. A small victory.
The rest of my body isn't as cooperative.
A small droplet of water falls dead center onto my forehead from somewhere above. At least I hope its water. I try to move my numb arms and hands to wipe my slick forehead but they refuse to obey. My neck, arms, legs; my entire body useless. I wonder if that last blow did more than just knock me out.
I wonder if my nose isn't the only thing that the bastards broke.
Another drop of water and reality hits me like a ton of bricks. There's nothing wrong with my spine. I'm simply tied down. I have about 10 seconds of relief as the feeling returns to my extremities before the offending droplet of water returns. Again the light tap on my forehead brings a kind of fevered clarity to my thoughts.
Its not going to stop.
Drip.
Not for hours.
Drip.
Not for days.
Drip.
They'll break me.
Drip.
And they'll do it soon.
I lose track of time. Each drop is like a stinging slap, preparing me only for the next inevitable drop. And drop it does. I lose track of time. Sleeping is impossible. I'm vaguely aware of going hungry as the endless barrage of water pounds me senseless. The beating I can handle.
But not this.
I cry and beg and babble, laugh, shout, mutter every obscenity in every language I know and still it goes on. They want it from me. A little information is a fair price for sanity. Just give it to them, I tell myself. Just tell them what you know and then they'll kill you.
No more pain.
No more suffering.
No more God damned water.
A fair trade.
Somewhere in front of me a door opens almost before I even raise my voice. People in black suits and masks take position around me and wait. A moment later the man I used to work for comes striding into the room, stopping short just out of my useless arm's reach. He leans forward and takes in my broken form with disgust clearly etched on his lined face.
I smile to show him my gap-toothed grin.
Just when I thought i'd be free from the Devil, the Devil waltzes straight back into my life.
I should have known.
He says something I can't quite hear and the men around me close in. One of them puts a needle through my arm and everything goes black.
I should have known.
Struggling against renewed pain, I crack one eyelid open, and then the other. A small victory.
The rest of my body isn't as cooperative.
A small droplet of water falls dead center onto my forehead from somewhere above. At least I hope its water. I try to move my numb arms and hands to wipe my slick forehead but they refuse to obey. My neck, arms, legs; my entire body useless. I wonder if that last blow did more than just knock me out.
I wonder if my nose isn't the only thing that the bastards broke.
Another drop of water and reality hits me like a ton of bricks. There's nothing wrong with my spine. I'm simply tied down. I have about 10 seconds of relief as the feeling returns to my extremities before the offending droplet of water returns. Again the light tap on my forehead brings a kind of fevered clarity to my thoughts.
Its not going to stop.
Drip.
Not for hours.
Drip.
Not for days.
Drip.
They'll break me.
Drip.
And they'll do it soon.
I lose track of time. Each drop is like a stinging slap, preparing me only for the next inevitable drop. And drop it does. I lose track of time. Sleeping is impossible. I'm vaguely aware of going hungry as the endless barrage of water pounds me senseless. The beating I can handle.
But not this.
I cry and beg and babble, laugh, shout, mutter every obscenity in every language I know and still it goes on. They want it from me. A little information is a fair price for sanity. Just give it to them, I tell myself. Just tell them what you know and then they'll kill you.
No more pain.
No more suffering.
No more God damned water.
A fair trade.
Somewhere in front of me a door opens almost before I even raise my voice. People in black suits and masks take position around me and wait. A moment later the man I used to work for comes striding into the room, stopping short just out of my useless arm's reach. He leans forward and takes in my broken form with disgust clearly etched on his lined face.
I smile to show him my gap-toothed grin.
Just when I thought i'd be free from the Devil, the Devil waltzes straight back into my life.
I should have known.
He says something I can't quite hear and the men around me close in. One of them puts a needle through my arm and everything goes black.
I should have known.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Housewarming
So, i've finally gotten around to having that housewarming party thats been festering at the back of my mind for weeks now. Unfortunately, a slew of last minute cancels made it a fairly small affair. At least there wasn't any problems with having not enough refreshments, or those awkward moments when you search for something to say with people you aren't entirely familiar with. The whole affair went well enough all in all.
After the party I escorted Naomi home to ensure that she got back safely. Call me an old fashioned geezer but seeing as to how I was the one who delayed her, I should at least see her to her door. The purpose of my visit was two-fold. The first was so that I could see the trip she makes myself and decide if I was comfortable with her making a late night commute. The journey was pleasant enough, and the suburb she stays in appeared safe. That's one less thing to fret about.
The second reason I offered to follow is to meet her family. Or more specifically, her mother. I won't disclose what happened here but I will say that i'm fairly confident that her initial idea of me has changed somewhat after our meeting.
I can only hope its for the better.
After the party I escorted Naomi home to ensure that she got back safely. Call me an old fashioned geezer but seeing as to how I was the one who delayed her, I should at least see her to her door. The purpose of my visit was two-fold. The first was so that I could see the trip she makes myself and decide if I was comfortable with her making a late night commute. The journey was pleasant enough, and the suburb she stays in appeared safe. That's one less thing to fret about.
The second reason I offered to follow is to meet her family. Or more specifically, her mother. I won't disclose what happened here but I will say that i'm fairly confident that her initial idea of me has changed somewhat after our meeting.
I can only hope its for the better.
Friday, May 9, 2008
Uploaded
Oh, before I forget, i've finally gotten some ferret pictures taken. They're up on Facebook. Holler at me if you want to see them but don't have me added as a friend.
Thursday, May 8, 2008
Mii Fit
It has finally arrived. One of the most interesting peripherals in gaming history next to motion sensing cameras and the mod chip. I am of course referring to the Wii's Balance Board. The Board is an interesting...well....board that you lay on the floor and stand on. An array of pressure sensors then detect shifts in posture, weight, and movement and translates it into ingame malarky.
I am highly amused and intrigued by the concept. For starters, the Board comes bundled with the Wii Fit software (which is more of an exercise program with game elements). In a box. A hefty box. Apparently, fitness begins at the checkout counter. I estimate the board to be at least 2-3kgs heavy though i'm probably off by a few hundred grams.
Once you've loaded it up and synchronised your Board with the console, you step on it for the first unabashedly direct (and no doubt the precursor to many) appraisal. Unsurprisingly, my center of gravity is slightly off to the left and my BMI, although within the ideal range is not quite in the area of the magic 22. Studies indicate that a BMI of 22 is the healthiest BMI. Literally. Apprently you get sick less if your BMI is 22. Iiiiiinteresting.
So, once all the initial jargle is dispensed with, you're asked to set a weight/BMI target you want to achieve and a time limit which ranges from a week to a whole year. Apparently I need to lose about 7kgs to achieve a BMI of 22. Lets see if Wii Fit can help me do that. I'm by no means overweight, but I could probably do with tightening the belly and gut area a bit. To play it safe, I opted for a 3 month target limit.
Finally, you get to the exercises themselves. These range from Yoga poses, muscle workouts reminiscent of pilates and fun activities like skiing and even a very basic dancing activity. The core aim of the software is designed to help people attain and maintain proper posture, balance as well as weight goals. The activities show you the muscle groups you will be working on, and even has workout "sets" to complete where you perform specific exercises to target particular muscle groups.
Needless to say, its a pretty nifty software and peripheral. I can see the Board being used for more than just fitness. At the very least they can double as the pedals for a racing game. My biggest concern is that they won't maximise the potential of the Board, as its a pretty pricey package to use for just one game.
As always, the moment something vaguely innovative or controversial comes out, some concerned American citizen will post a well researched (and no doubt well meaning) article about the dangers of said innovation.
Here is an example:
http://au.wii.gamespy.com/wii/wii-fit/872341p1.html
If Mrs Hobbes took the time to read the manual, it clearly states that BMI calculations are based on a sampling of average ADULTS. It also goes on to say that for users below a certain age, the reading will most likely be inaccurate and should not be taken seriously. Come on people. The Board isn't a fitness expert. It's a big piece of plastic designed by a VIDEO GAME company.
Don't.
Take it.
Personally.
I am highly amused and intrigued by the concept. For starters, the Board comes bundled with the Wii Fit software (which is more of an exercise program with game elements). In a box. A hefty box. Apparently, fitness begins at the checkout counter. I estimate the board to be at least 2-3kgs heavy though i'm probably off by a few hundred grams.
Once you've loaded it up and synchronised your Board with the console, you step on it for the first unabashedly direct (and no doubt the precursor to many) appraisal. Unsurprisingly, my center of gravity is slightly off to the left and my BMI, although within the ideal range is not quite in the area of the magic 22. Studies indicate that a BMI of 22 is the healthiest BMI. Literally. Apprently you get sick less if your BMI is 22. Iiiiiinteresting.
So, once all the initial jargle is dispensed with, you're asked to set a weight/BMI target you want to achieve and a time limit which ranges from a week to a whole year. Apparently I need to lose about 7kgs to achieve a BMI of 22. Lets see if Wii Fit can help me do that. I'm by no means overweight, but I could probably do with tightening the belly and gut area a bit. To play it safe, I opted for a 3 month target limit.
Finally, you get to the exercises themselves. These range from Yoga poses, muscle workouts reminiscent of pilates and fun activities like skiing and even a very basic dancing activity. The core aim of the software is designed to help people attain and maintain proper posture, balance as well as weight goals. The activities show you the muscle groups you will be working on, and even has workout "sets" to complete where you perform specific exercises to target particular muscle groups.
Needless to say, its a pretty nifty software and peripheral. I can see the Board being used for more than just fitness. At the very least they can double as the pedals for a racing game. My biggest concern is that they won't maximise the potential of the Board, as its a pretty pricey package to use for just one game.
As always, the moment something vaguely innovative or controversial comes out, some concerned American citizen will post a well researched (and no doubt well meaning) article about the dangers of said innovation.
Here is an example:
http://au.wii.gamespy.com/wii/wii-fit/872341p1.html
If Mrs Hobbes took the time to read the manual, it clearly states that BMI calculations are based on a sampling of average ADULTS. It also goes on to say that for users below a certain age, the reading will most likely be inaccurate and should not be taken seriously. Come on people. The Board isn't a fitness expert. It's a big piece of plastic designed by a VIDEO GAME company.
Don't.
Take it.
Personally.
Food for thought
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UFBZ_uAbxS0
Take a look.
What in the name of L. Ron Hubbard is a "Freedom Medal of Valor"!? Is Tom a patriot? Did he serve is country battling threats to America on the frontlines? Does the medal come with fries and an apple pie!?
Oh well, I guess i'm one to talk, having only just gotten myself a "Triple Deluxe Mega Platinum Liberation Trophy of Bravado, Gusto aaaaaaaaaand Bombast". In a combo meal. With a title of equal or lesser obnoxious...ness.
Does this mean I win?
Edit:
Here's another video.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Tj6lE1PjGk&feature=related
It makes my chest swell with pride! The clarion call of trumpets fill my ears, and if I close my eyes I can see the American flag waving resolutely in the background. Oh wait. Its not that kind of video.
Funny how they talk about God when and man's inalienable rights to religion and so forth when you have to sign a waiver saying that you renounce your previous religion when you want to become a Scientologist. From my understanding, the concept or notion of a higher power than Man (ie; God) doesn't exist in Scientology.
You know, when I think about it, I don't actually have a reason to slam Scientology. I guess i'm just trying to exercise my inalienable right to free speech and expressing my opinion.
Take a look.
What in the name of L. Ron Hubbard is a "Freedom Medal of Valor"!? Is Tom a patriot? Did he serve is country battling threats to America on the frontlines? Does the medal come with fries and an apple pie!?
Oh well, I guess i'm one to talk, having only just gotten myself a "Triple Deluxe Mega Platinum Liberation Trophy of Bravado, Gusto aaaaaaaaaand Bombast". In a combo meal. With a title of equal or lesser obnoxious...ness.
Does this mean I win?
Edit:
Here's another video.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Tj6lE1PjGk&feature=related
It makes my chest swell with pride! The clarion call of trumpets fill my ears, and if I close my eyes I can see the American flag waving resolutely in the background. Oh wait. Its not that kind of video.
Funny how they talk about God when and man's inalienable rights to religion and so forth when you have to sign a waiver saying that you renounce your previous religion when you want to become a Scientologist. From my understanding, the concept or notion of a higher power than Man (ie; God) doesn't exist in Scientology.
You know, when I think about it, I don't actually have a reason to slam Scientology. I guess i'm just trying to exercise my inalienable right to free speech and expressing my opinion.
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Writer's blog
What an uninspired play on words! Oh well, it was bound to happen sooner or later. By now i'm sure you all know that i'm a discount warehouse of bad puns anyway.
First off I have to say that i've been a negligent parent. These past few days 1-UP has been largely confined to her cage or left to her own devices as assembly people came over and I get the place a little more organized. Having become more than a little proficient at escaping her cage, i've had to padlock the door and essentially place her under house arrest while i'm out or asleep so I can remain relatively sane. Having discovered that her usual door opening tricks no longer work, she instead found a way to remove the bottom panel of her cage and try to escape from there. Fortunately, the bottom panel does not lead to any exit. Its still a feat for something that has no opposable thunbs or indeed any fingers to speak of to do though. I should observe her carefully.
Like any guilty parent, I overcompensate by feeding her an inordinately large amount of treats. If this keeps up, she'll be a fat waddly ferret by the end of the month. While that does have certain advantages, the reduced mobility and climbing ability being chief among them, I prefer her to remain her sleek self. Speaking of climbing, the little fuzzy nearly gave me a heart attack when she climbed up and stuck her head out of my OPEN bedroom window. Fortunately I was fast enough to grab her before she could entertain any notion of soaring (or falling) through two storeys. Even if she did survive, the chinese restaurant downstairs would seriously freak out. As if I don't have enough problems as it is.
Which brings me to my next point. Thanks to the installation of the wrong fire alarm, the restaurant downstairs has set off the fire alarm twice this week. I joked with the building manager and asked whether it was Firemen Appreciation Week.
He wasn't all that impressed.
After a day of chores, Naomi came over and we headed over to Kinokuniya, making a detour at the local kebab place along the way. She had never tried shisha before so we had a go of the apple flavored variety and chatted lightly while we watched Sydney go by. I have to say that the kebab place is strategically located for a good shisha session. I should go do it again. Once we've smoked our fill, we took a bus up to Town Hall and went into the bookstore for the main even of my day, a book signing with my favorite author Neil Gaiman.
Needless to say, the line was pretty damn long. The last time I had the pleasure of meeting Neil at a similar event, I didn't have to wait as long by virtue of the fact that there wasn't quite as many people. So Naomi and I alternately sat, scooted, shimmied, and plain old walked our way along the store until we finally reached him. Before the line started to move though, we were treated to a reading from 2 chapters of his upcoming book and then to a short Q&A session. Fast forward 2 and a half hours later, we were finally free from the line. Between the two of us, we managed to get four books signed.
Good times!
First off I have to say that i've been a negligent parent. These past few days 1-UP has been largely confined to her cage or left to her own devices as assembly people came over and I get the place a little more organized. Having become more than a little proficient at escaping her cage, i've had to padlock the door and essentially place her under house arrest while i'm out or asleep so I can remain relatively sane. Having discovered that her usual door opening tricks no longer work, she instead found a way to remove the bottom panel of her cage and try to escape from there. Fortunately, the bottom panel does not lead to any exit. Its still a feat for something that has no opposable thunbs or indeed any fingers to speak of to do though. I should observe her carefully.
Like any guilty parent, I overcompensate by feeding her an inordinately large amount of treats. If this keeps up, she'll be a fat waddly ferret by the end of the month. While that does have certain advantages, the reduced mobility and climbing ability being chief among them, I prefer her to remain her sleek self. Speaking of climbing, the little fuzzy nearly gave me a heart attack when she climbed up and stuck her head out of my OPEN bedroom window. Fortunately I was fast enough to grab her before she could entertain any notion of soaring (or falling) through two storeys. Even if she did survive, the chinese restaurant downstairs would seriously freak out. As if I don't have enough problems as it is.
Which brings me to my next point. Thanks to the installation of the wrong fire alarm, the restaurant downstairs has set off the fire alarm twice this week. I joked with the building manager and asked whether it was Firemen Appreciation Week.
He wasn't all that impressed.
After a day of chores, Naomi came over and we headed over to Kinokuniya, making a detour at the local kebab place along the way. She had never tried shisha before so we had a go of the apple flavored variety and chatted lightly while we watched Sydney go by. I have to say that the kebab place is strategically located for a good shisha session. I should go do it again. Once we've smoked our fill, we took a bus up to Town Hall and went into the bookstore for the main even of my day, a book signing with my favorite author Neil Gaiman.
Needless to say, the line was pretty damn long. The last time I had the pleasure of meeting Neil at a similar event, I didn't have to wait as long by virtue of the fact that there wasn't quite as many people. So Naomi and I alternately sat, scooted, shimmied, and plain old walked our way along the store until we finally reached him. Before the line started to move though, we were treated to a reading from 2 chapters of his upcoming book and then to a short Q&A session. Fast forward 2 and a half hours later, we were finally free from the line. Between the two of us, we managed to get four books signed.
Good times!
Monday, May 5, 2008
Prologue Part 1 - Torture
It should have ended with that gunshot. Two inches to the left and even if I did survive i'd be a vegetable. But they're too vindictive for that.
It should have ended with that gunshot.
But now it looks like i'm in for a long day.
They asked the easy questions first, but even easy questions tax a man when he's been shot in the head. She had good aim too. Grazed the skull. If I could move my hands i'm dead sure I could probably trace an almost straight line of bone that cuts across the side of head.
If I could move my hands.
But I can't.
Truth be told i'm surprised that I can put a coherent sentence in my head, let alone speak out loud. Every inch of me hurts, and I mean every inch. Blood and sweat blur my already failing vision. More than a few of my teeth are knocked loose. Another blow comes and I feel more than hear the crunch of breaking bones. My nose wasn't broken before.
It is now.
With more effort than it should take I spit blood, teeth and my name, rank and unit.
I realize now that i've been muttering the same thing over and over again. People say that you should try to repeat only those 3 pieces of information under torture. I'm sure I don't cut a striking figure mumbling like a lunatic. But it works.
They ask.
I give them the same answer.
They ask again. Politely.
Name. Rank. Unit.
They stop asking questions and use their hands instead.
Good. It means i've beat them this time.
A solid blow lands neatly across my bandaged head and the world I know explodes into a mass of strobing lights and pain. I feel light, like I can fly. If only I could spread my wings I could leave this place behind.
But that's only the pain and blood loss talking. After what seems like a lifetime later, I crash onto the floor and all of a sudden all the lights are gone. No stars, no light, no feeling, nothing.
I pass out, hoping to wake in a place where I keep no secrets.
But I won't.
Assembled!
Another day has come and gone and every piece of furniture has finally been assembled. That is, until I get more. A bookshelf probably. On the whole it was a fairly decent day. The assembly guys ran more than a little late because apparently one of them had to visit his sick father. Whether thats true or not is irrelevant because they did some good work modifying the wardrobe and AV cabinet.
Doubt the cut holes will add anything to the resale value though.
In a rare moment of fun I was also severly trounced by my sister in Mario Kart. I haven't been playing that game well since Friday night at Derek's. I wonder if they slipped me some kind of gaming kryptonite....
My sister's friends came over as usual and proceeded to whip up some chicken steaks, which we all consumed hungrily. They were even thoughtful enough to leave a bowl of fries for the assembly guys. Naomi also came over and we talked a bit about writing (Yay!) and assignments (Boo!). The night culminated in me finding out exactly how uncoordinated I am in a game of Dance Dance Revolution. That's right. I tried. And Drum Mania. Don't ask. I enjoyed myself though! I really need to work on my feet though. My footwork is ATROCIOUS.
Anyway, I thought I might spice up the blog with a story or two of my own creation. I'm not sure how things will go but I might organize it into a miniseries of some kind that runs concurrently with the blog. We'll see. Anyway, the next entry is the start of the story. Its a bit dark, but I wanted to establish a few things first before I take creative liberty with it.
Feel free to comment.
Doubt the cut holes will add anything to the resale value though.
In a rare moment of fun I was also severly trounced by my sister in Mario Kart. I haven't been playing that game well since Friday night at Derek's. I wonder if they slipped me some kind of gaming kryptonite....
My sister's friends came over as usual and proceeded to whip up some chicken steaks, which we all consumed hungrily. They were even thoughtful enough to leave a bowl of fries for the assembly guys. Naomi also came over and we talked a bit about writing (Yay!) and assignments (Boo!). The night culminated in me finding out exactly how uncoordinated I am in a game of Dance Dance Revolution. That's right. I tried. And Drum Mania. Don't ask. I enjoyed myself though! I really need to work on my feet though. My footwork is ATROCIOUS.
Anyway, I thought I might spice up the blog with a story or two of my own creation. I'm not sure how things will go but I might organize it into a miniseries of some kind that runs concurrently with the blog. We'll see. Anyway, the next entry is the start of the story. Its a bit dark, but I wanted to establish a few things first before I take creative liberty with it.
Feel free to comment.
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Resisting
It looks like my lethargy is hanging over my like a black cloud again. At least its shady down here. Its not motivation i've been lacking over the past few days. I have that in spades. Its just been ground to a fine paste thanks to shoddy groupwork and the prospect of conquering that mountainous pile of horse dung I call chores.
It appears to be something Naomi shares as well. If you haven't already guessed, Naomi is my new love interest. Things moved pretty fast for us, as it often does for me these past few relationships but its still a change I welcome. Having done enough lovey dovey blogs in the past, i'm just going to sit this one out and see how it unfolds. I'm certainly very fond of her though. Being an excellent writer as well a painter, she is quite unlike anyone i've gone out with so far.
But, as always, I digress.
Tomorrow Chris the assembly guy is popping over to fix up a few small pieces of furniture as well as make some custom adjustments to a few of my existing ones. Essentially some cuts need to be made to ensure that I can easily access plug points my wardrobe and AV cabinet are currently covering.
I suppose another cause for concern is the passing of the closing date for many job application intakes. I've sent a fair few resumes out but there's always that nagging feeling you get at the back of your mind that tells you you could have done more.
And I will.
It appears to be something Naomi shares as well. If you haven't already guessed, Naomi is my new love interest. Things moved pretty fast for us, as it often does for me these past few relationships but its still a change I welcome. Having done enough lovey dovey blogs in the past, i'm just going to sit this one out and see how it unfolds. I'm certainly very fond of her though. Being an excellent writer as well a painter, she is quite unlike anyone i've gone out with so far.
But, as always, I digress.
Tomorrow Chris the assembly guy is popping over to fix up a few small pieces of furniture as well as make some custom adjustments to a few of my existing ones. Essentially some cuts need to be made to ensure that I can easily access plug points my wardrobe and AV cabinet are currently covering.
I suppose another cause for concern is the passing of the closing date for many job application intakes. I've sent a fair few resumes out but there's always that nagging feeling you get at the back of your mind that tells you you could have done more.
And I will.
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