Don't Open the Haunted Sour Cream

For the second time in a week, the mailman (or person, whatever) has put my mail in my neighbor's box. My dad delivers mail an hour's drive away in my hometown. I should have him get to the bottom of this, because I'm sure he knows who is messing this up.

Seriously though, I don't want to complain and possibly cause someone to be reprimanded, but I'm tired of thinking I have no mail only to have my neighbor knock on my door late in the afternoon and hand deliver it. Supposedly there are rigorous tests that need to be passed before one can be trusted as a USPS employee. I would think that reading and recognizing differences in addresses is one of those requirements with not a lot of wiggle room.

Ouch, that snark got a little sharp there at the end. I'm not even in a bad mood.

edit: This was a test of the email posting function I enabled a while ago, and I have to say that (aside from the convenience aspect of not having to log in) it is short of impressive. Maybe it's just something I have to play with.

Plaid can go with stripes if I want them to!

Yup, the Chinese word to learn is "understand" and gracefully punctuates the fortune which boldly defies the definition. This, on my last day staying here at the farm, seems to be a perfect farewell with which to part ways. I've had a good time; visited with a few friends I rarely see anymore, drove through my old stomping grounds, and felt sad--still not quite sure if it's because things have changed or if they haven't changed enough. After almost two weeks, I'm not feeling right in the brain. In fact, the fortune above may make sense and the breakdown is in my processing of the data. It's official; something is damaged. Not sure vacation is supposed to do that to a person.

I've been toying with the idea of fasting when I return home. Does that make sense? It was a bit of an abrupt change in topic, but that's alright because it is. By fasting, I'm thinking more along the lines of plenty of water, maybe a vitamin pill here and there, but no food. Pretty confident I can last a day, easy, but the real test will come with the dawn of day two. If I can do it, I doubt I'd go past two or three days, but it would be interesting to try it and see. I've gone without eating for quite some time in the past, but I was horribly ill at the time and would like to experience it in good health. Well, by that I mean physical health--we've already established that the mental aspect is questionable. Chances are that I'll completely break down and throw a frozen pizza in the oven, but I'm hoping that my willpower doesn't crumble. Like crumbly crumbs on delicious cake. Mmmm, cake...

Oh, and Ryan started a blog. Read it.

Dangerous at High Speeds

For the past few weeks, I've considered slapping all sorts of rants and zany posts here, but apparently in the time it takes for me to think of something and actually make it to my computer, I've either forgotten that great thing I had to say or have convinced myself that it wasn't great enough to expend the energy it takes to type it down (channeling a little Mitch Hedberg there). This time I developed an idea as I sat here with nothing better to do, so there was no time to forget it and the guarantee of greatness is null and void.

Since the end of the semester, I've literally been reading far more than I normally do when classes are in session. The main reason: I can read for enjoyment without the need for dissecting the text in preparation for later discussion and/or a critical analysis paper. Believe me, the process is so much faster this way. Anyway, among the list of recently finished books is this year's PEN/O.Henry Prize Stories. As a student and writer, all I've produced so far are short stories (still waiting patiently for the muse to send me inspiration for a novel), and I've decided that I might take a moment to point out something that I take for granted when reading something polished by an editing staff, much less a self-conscious author--continuity.

Say you're sitting with some friends and telling them about something that happened that they just have to hear, but you know they're either going to lose interest or simply not believe you if you can't keep your facts straight. A specific example (and probably most extreme violation) from a class this last semester was a story in which a character was traveling--I won't say where or why for "just in case" purposes. This character began in what I guess would still technically be the Midwest and was headed southeast to end up in a state on the Canadian border. Things unraveled quickly after that.

To make a point and hopefully not appear to be picking on a writing student too harshly, I firmly believe that this person just picked up their keyboard and took off running, never turning back to remind themselves where they'd been, otherwise they couldn't help but notice the gaps in their story that made any attempt at helpful comments nearly impossible. Seriously, it was an unnecessary waste of everyone's time. Granted, this class was a workshop and not the final, nit-picky stages of a publication, but if any of you are emerging (and sometimes even established) writers that have ever cranked out a first draft and handed it over to one or more readers without first reading it yourself, please save yourself the embarrassment and never do it again. I'm sure most people would read this and think, "Well, duh," but this isn't for you. It's for... them.

Shut up is the new black.

Why do you get out of bed in the morning? Are your reasons selfish or selfless?

What I mean is, I’ve been thinking a lot about motivation lately. As a writer, I know that characters who don’t want anything are dull—the death of a story. Whether or not I choose to reveal the specifics, it’s up to me to determine that drive while making it believable. Put the fictional aspect aside and consider that anything I can dream up for motivating a protagonist or antagonist must have a human element to it. This is why I ask, why do you get out of bed every morning?

I have a hard time answering that question, to be honest. Think about it; people have families, people have jobs, people have school, all manner of responsibilities, but then you have to think about the people that let those responsibilities slip, because apparently they don’t have enough inspiration to keep at it. Or on the flip side, does that mean people who spend years working at the same job are simple-minded, or to be polite, more easily entertained? Maybe they’re biding their time waiting for something better, some plans they’ve secretly made to get out of that rut. Maybe they’re perfectly happy doing what they do and are just waiting to cash in on a sweet retirement package. Maybe they do it because they just think that they’re supposed to.

Take a look at someone who claims to be religious; what are their motivations? Do they live by the tenants of their religion because they fundamentally believe that this is the right way to live, or do they do it because they ultimately want the reward and fear the punishment? Just to be clear, reward and punishment are just sanctions that happen to sit on opposite ends of a spectrum intended to provoke a desired behavior—which makes them basically equal in a wacky, postmodern kinda way.

Getting back on track here, I’ve been accused before of lacking ambition, and a) I’ve come to the conclusion that ambition is another word for motivation with a possibly wider scope, and b) the accusations usually come from someone that has apparently decided my level of motivation is unsatisfactory because it didn’t match theirs. When you get down to it, motivation is relative, and since I sometimes have such a hard time identifying my own, I wonder if how I imagine someone else’s is way off base.

So, why do you get out of bed every morning?

It's unfortunate when an expensive education doesn't take.

I've been on Facebook since the days when a valid university email address was required. Facebook opened itself up to the world, and my "friend" list grew; I found a lot of people, a lot of them found me, and Facebook kept growing. Recently I was swamped with a sudden flood of requests to be added by people I haven't seen in ten to fifteen years or more. I have to admit, I feel guilty, because many of these people leave me posts or send messages asking what I've been up to and how I've been, and my replies have been scarce, to say the least. Kind of sad, really, but I know that I've changed from the last time they saw me--probably more than I'm even aware of. Sometimes I worry that these people have changed too, or worse yet, maybe some haven't changed at all.

Today, my reasons for being hesitant have been justified, if even only slightly, for being cautious. I witnessed someone I know (in the loosest sense of the word) make one of the most asinine comments I've ever had the displeasure to read.

While I have begun in recent years to develop some strong political opinions, I'm not normally one that looks to share these views unsolicited. I'm actually not going to do much of it now, either, because I'm going to concentrate more on the language than the politics. When I saw a "friend's" status (someone I haven't really talked to since my junior high school years--and we're talking back in 1987-88), I decided that revisiting any sort of friendship with this face from my ancient history is definitely not something I'm interested in. Here's what the status read:

"*name withheld for reasons of taste* wants Barack Obama to FAIL!"

Well, I've come to the conclusion that this person is apparently an idiot, and considering that all the memories I have to go on are from twenty-plus years ago, I'm also wondering whether or not he's changed. From what I recall, this person could throw a tantrum and pout with the best of them, so I suspect I can stop wondering--he hasn't.

This isn't the first provocative statement on the topic from this particular person, and my knee-jerk reaction was to fire a message back with something equally as juvenile, such as, "That's funny, I just spent the last eight years wanting GW to stop failing," but that wouldn't really accomplish anything. My reaction was simply to grant what I assume was his coded wish: I "unfriended" him, because any other action would be a waste of my time and his. Here's my reasoning.

I have always stood by my belief that Bush is/was/always will be a moron, but hear me out, because regardless of your political affiliation, there is a distinct difference here; I have never wished him to outright fail. For example, when I studied abroad, there were people that asked me how I thought the last couple years of Bush's administration would go. My answer usually was, "Well, I have a feeling it's going to get worse before it gets better." Whether or not I was correct is debatable.

Take a look at the language as I mentioned earlier; one statement signifies a sense of hopelessness while at the same time yearning for a change in that momentum, yet the other reveals an attitude toward someone that is not only bitter, but also belies a hidden undertone of fear that this person may not fail. Keep in mind that one observation was made after six years rather than after only a month of performance in the position. I would hope that most people shouldn't need this explained, but an educated adult with a career and family has convinced me that he is unable to grasp these concepts. Even if this came from someone with whom I had shared more history, I would have a hard time taking much they had to say very seriously anymore.

If anyone reading has made it this far--especially those that disagree with my views--and is offended by what I've written, I offer a challenge: convince me that a statement from anyone actively wanting a president to fail is not completely ludicrous and exactly the sort of harmful partisanship that is making politics today so damn ugly (you can use whatever sense of the word "fail" you'd like, and I'm tending to think in terms of any president in general, not necessarily Obama). I won't say it's an impossible task, but the chance of success is fairly minimal.

For those that haven't made it this far, I suppose saying, "Good riddance," is unnecessary.

For those that do agree and are still here; choir, preaching to it, blah blah…