What's the good word today? I have an appointment next week at a place in Pasadena that will sign me up for Healthy Way LA and will hopefully give me what I need in regards to my illness. A big thank you to my good friend Kevin, a true scholar and gentleman when he isn't busy doing his standup routine. ;-)
Other good news: The muse came down and dropkicked me in the face yesterday... it was glorious. I finally got a major piece of the puzzle figured out as far as what was missing from my idea for a story. I seriously want this to be my version of the Great American Novel (note: it will not be anything nearly that good, I can assure you, but it will be good enough [hopefully] that somebody wants to publish it.) I plan on pulling out from several of my trick bags in order to make this something both fun to read and analyze scholarly. That, to me, would be amazing. This is cool. As a caveat, this may take some time--as long as it needs to. I dislike putting this out there, but I have to psyche myself out if I ever want to see myself finishing it. Right now, I just have random paragraphs and a gameplan; now for the creative legwork. By the way, if anyone reading this is a published writer or also aspires to be one, I'd love to hear any advice if you're willing to share, public or private, regarding creating, finishing, finding an agent, getting published, etc.
I really need to read more as well. I will stop short of setting a goal, though, because of a litany of reasons. Terrifying example: a FB friend of mine, a wonderful and talented scholar who works in the hardbound and page industry up north, does a "50 books in any given year" resolution. While not out of the realm of possibility, it terrifies me to no end to commit to something so rewarding. Why is that? What is this neurosis that has set up shop inside my head? I used to love to read so much when I was younger; of course, back then, it was much simpler fare and practically no analysis involved other than what was right on the nose based on what I read. I can't read anymore without dissecting to death (which is both good and bad) or I just get bored and lose interest, depending on the material. Why, oh, why has my former favorite pastime lost its thrill?
Confession session time: I love kids (me being a big one still) and yet I also hate the little buggers sometimes. Depends on the kid, I know. The well-behaved and adjusted ones are like angels living amongst us, bestowing us with blessed, innocent insight and other such gifts of the spirit. Then there are the attitude, out-of-control, dirty/nasty/cruel little boogers who know just exactly which buttons to push. I know we are not supposed to beat kids (and I say beat in the most loving and gentle way, not meaning to decimate them or anything, but just physical discipline) and I agree that the psychological ramifications can perpetuate a never-ending cycle of violence and all, but damn, some kids deserve a good smack for being assholes (as do plenty of adults, but that's already a given and another story.) Maybe it stems from my upbringing; my mom and dad didn't give me the belt or the smack much, but when I got out of line and stepped over said line, I did feel the consequences. My maternal grandma was the infamous beatdown artist of the family, however, and she was the one more likely than anyone to be the sergeant-at-arms who readily metes out corporal punishment. Still, she was pretty old when I was growing up and her chancla (slipper) swing had lost some of its velocity. One time she couldn't find her chancla and instead just hit me with the closest thing at hand: a banana. I felt bad for my brother and older cousins, because they felt the brunt of her wrath when she was still in the tail-end of her prime. I feel even worse for my mother because she felt abuelita's primetime wrath back in the 60s. One thing, though, that a good smack taught me was humility--you are not the center of the universe, there are consequences to your asshole actions. I may be a bit screwy in the head, a lovely genetic trait I inherited from the aforementioned abuelita's side, but I learned how to be respectful toward adults and not get crazy and out of control in public or private like some kids do. Manners and self-control, while not lost completely, is a waning art form in this increasingly isolated and self-serving society. I see too many kids that have never been taught the fear of the chancla and they take advantage like little motherf***ers. Sorry for the rant--in no way am I promoting wholesale beating of kids or hitting them just for the sake of it, because that truly is cruel and can create kids with severe trauma and issues, which is never good. I feel like many others from 1st or 2nd generation immigrant parents will understand me regarding this issue... and if you don't, that's okay, we can agree to disagree; it's kinda painful to watch when you see parents who refuse to effectively discipline their kids and then let them run wild, like little Tazmanian devils spinning themselves into a tornado vortex, all balled-up fists, slobber, and tennis shoes, smacking anything and everything in their path. Please believe me though when I say that I really do like (most) kids (particularly before they can talk back and develop attitudes) and I think they should be treasured, supported, and given any and all means to be happy human beings with good goals and values.
Out of rant mode: I have a feeling that things are going to change for me, for the better. Historically, I've always existed much more contently and have had more fortune in odd numbered years than even years; make what you will of that. I'm still looking for work, but I'm surprisingly not freaking out too much (for the moment) and I have faith that something that needs to happen will happen.
Question to my readers: This is a new thing I want to do; it may or may not suck. What are your views on things like communal living? Benefits outweigh drawbacks or vice-versa? Specific reasons and examples would be great but are not mandatory. Thank you so much, in advance, if you respond to this question--it will help me in some research I am beginning.
See you in two weeks or so, maybe less if the muse decides to uppercut me again.
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