February 5th, 2004

there!, Hello

Americans are like novels...

Had an odd dream this morning. Part of it was me going off on a racist anti-Japanese bastard. Then, I went to lunch with some of my Japanese friends. Good people, dream people though. I had a good rapport with this Japanese girl, we were kind of flirty fun friendly -- the way I used to be with Lori. Dream girl knew I was married, and I knew likewise, and that made it fun. So, anyway, one of the people nearby said, "Oh, I can't eat this, I've got no appetite," and I told him "That's okay. Eat less and stay skinny. Don't turn into a fat American," and I smiled and patted my paunch. Well, the girl across the table from me said, "Americans are like novels. If they are too small, they aren't worth much. If they are too big, they're overly self indulgent. They have to be just big enough." The suggestion was I'm just big enough, I guess. At least for the Japanese dream girl...

She is probably Trista's fault. Last night after Tae-Bo (yep, we worked out), Trista told me that I'd have to beat off girls with a stick. Uh-huh, yeah right. If she means sexually fulfill them through sadism, well, maybe. If she means be a "chick magnet" I sincerely doubt it. My looks are not those of a chick magnet, and never will be. My personality is everything, I think, and even that is seriously grating at times -- thank you emotional chaos. I told her, "That's not going to be a problem." Then, I have this dream, where a cool chick (who isn't Trista) digs me. Go figure. Ah, my weird old brain.

Sleepy today. I've been up reading the last couple of nights. Tuesday, I finished Heinlein's *Red Planet* (and have today loaned it to Pete), I also started reading Simon Clark's *Stranger*. I'll be damned if it isn't addictive reading! Two days, and I'm 275 pages into it, less than 150 to go. Kind of an After Ruin sort of novel... Literary predecessor to 28 Days Later, and it hits some similar notes. Interesting, and keeping me up til about one every night.

Went to Borders last night, and it was nice to visit the bookstore. Picked up another Heinlein (*Orphans in the Sky*), Robert E. Howard's Conan Chronicles vol 1, the latest Ellory Queen Mystery Mag, and a writing book.

There must be something wrong with me. When I got my Leisure Horror Books a couple of days ago, a catalog of titles was included in the box. Four of the titles in the Romance section actually looked interesting. I must be coming down with something.

Pete loaned me a book called *Brain Plague* by Joan Slonczewski. I read the first chapter and it reads kind of like Bruce Sterling's Holy Fire meets Greg Bear's Blood Music, with too many notes. It will be a chore to get through that one. Pete didn't really enjoy it much, he tells me. Ah well.

RPG UPDATE: Tonight I GM for the Tater. Luckily, I'm prepped until the end of this adventure, so I didn't need to do anything else this time. Looks like blood is in the future, for our intrepid adventurers... Last week, they invaded a gnoll village, in an effort to recon one of two enigmas. They stumbled onto proof of outside backing. They are now enmeshed in a fight in a fortifide gnoll stronghold, in the middle of a town that's getting highly worked up over fiery distractions aimed at their militia and food supplies... Possibly tomorrow I will try to get SAS going and done with. I think we're just about to enter Act 3 of that adventure (which started back when Bob was living with us).

This weekend, I also hope to finish the first draft of February's story. Looks like what I'm doing now is assembling the list of events. Then I will actually have to write the story in a better way. This time, I think I will pay conscious attention to scene structure and flow. Time to approach writing more like a craft, less like a hobby.

Got an interesting idea for a ghost story (Orpheus, maybe; maybe a writing project), where we've got a bloody clothes nurse in surgical green gown and getup. She has no eyes. She is the product of a soul destroying act, which has left her body alive, but seperated her soul from her mortal remains. Don't want to spoil the idea here, though.

One of these days, I have to tackle the hundredth monkey stories...
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