An extra in the indie film, "Good Day". "Because a man who doesn't wear a fish tie can never be a real man." ;-)
everything we experience - including our bodies - is actually a model created by our minds from our nervous systems,
emotions (such as panic and anxiety) are felt as physical pain and discomfort,
does it not logically follow that we should be able to train our minds not to incorporate these emotions into its illusion of ourselves?
I just got home. Right away, my daughter wants me to watch The Count with her. These are videos that are almost four times older than she is, but she thinks I've never seen them before. Oh well, I need to enjoy the time together now. Sooner or later she'll be a teenager, and won't want anything to do with me.
I've been up since two this morning. Lately, I've taken to getting up at 3am so I could have more writing time. I had to leave for work an hour earlier (I had to take the bus today,) so I got my ass up at two. I'm determined to publish book two this year, but goddamn it, it's going to be quality.
Speaking of publishing, I met with a friend and his girlfriend to talk about self publishing. She has a few books planned, and they seem really interesting, a kind of Kill Bill meets Xena character. She said a lot of "publishers" and "agents" were scamming her, trying to get her to pay them to publish her book. I explained that there are a lot of douchebags out there. Traditional publishing only pays you, you pay nothing, and publishing on kindle is 100% free (unless you want to invest in a cover artist, proofreader, etc.) Sometimes I think I should get a publiscist, but I'm going to wait until I have this series completed. She asked if I knew about Doctor Who, since her daughter loves it. I just gave my best Tom Baker laugh... I'm happy helping good people.
I had a nice day. It was a sunny day, but it was my turn down the manhole, so it was just cool enough. As always, we're just trying to get what we can done against impossible odds. That's where the love comes in.
Anyhoo, time to hop in the shower, and wash the shitplant off of me. Wishing happiness.
After fifteen years of more or less faithful service, the Jetta is irrevocably dead.
Thank you for all the joyful memories: From the beautiful guardian angels who kept us safe and left their footprints on the windows, to the children who threw up on the floor. From the lady who rearended us entering the Lincoln Tunnel, to the dealer mechanic who managed to break something every time he fixed another. From the Cessna sounding engine, to the cool blue and red dashboard display that looked like the cockpit of a TIE Fighter.
Rest in fahrvergnügen peace.