Wednesday, October 31, 2012

Behind the other two doors are narcs...

I went for a walk tonight. The sky is absolutely clear. I can see the constellations and the moon, which may be waxing or waning, I'm just too lazy to look it up. It's like nothing out of the ordinary has ever happened. My parents and my sister in NJ are still without power. I call them briefly every day, I don't want to make mom's cell run out. I would go down there and help them if there was anything I could do for them. They can still go to the store and have friends nearby, so it's not like I could make a difference. Maybe I could put on a sock-puppet show for my dad. First I would re-enact an episode of Deal or No Deal since he loves it so much - maybe I would just put on Cheech & Chong's classic skit "Let's Make a Dope Deal." Then I would pretend to be Sean Hannity, Bill O'Reilly, and Finally Rush Limbaugh.

I took Mandy trick-or-treating in our building tonight. I'm glad we were able to do it, since she's been looking forward to it all month. My do-it-yourself Marcelline bass-axe held up, but the foam-board bends at certain places. If I take her to Comic-Con next year, I'll have to make one out of heavier stuff. If I really was dedicated, I'd get some wood, make a real bass-axe, stain it cherry, and teach her how to play.

My heart goes out to all those who are suffering through the aftermath of this storm, and for all the storms they walk through.


Tuesday, October 30, 2012

Stranded at the drive in, branded a fool...

The world is calm, now that Sandy's over, at least out here. We were pretty lucky, there are some uprooted trees by our building, but none came through any windows, a few cars smushed on the road, but not mine. I don't know, maybe that would have been a fitting death for it, like a tasteful burial at sea.

The kids are home until at least tomorrow, and while I love them to death, going back to school would be good for them. It helps them build character, or something. We've been holding Red Dwarf marathons. I go for walks, avoiding downed trees and power lines. I volunteered to help with the local cleanup effort but they didn't need me. So I wrote a bit more of story nine. I like to support indie games, so I bought Edna and Harvey: Harvey's New Eyes off steam. They get a B for effort. I loved the sick and twisted humor (you play a sweet little girl who is, in fact, a serial killer tormented by demonic stuffed bunnies) but the game was very unpolished. It was as if playing a game made for my Android on my laptop. It also suffered from that great bane of adventure games: when you KNOW in real life there would be a very common-sense solution to your problem, but the game won't let you do it. 

I can't help worrying about my friends who are going through so much shit because of Sandy, especially when their own plates of worries were overflowing already. I'm saying my agnostic prayers for you always.

Goodnight, Red Dwarf and Civ V await! 


Sunday, October 28, 2012


Here we are, on the eve of the storm of the century. More than anything I'm annoyed; I had a fun couple of days planned with some friends starting tomorrow that got derailed. We'll have to shoot for later on in the week. The MTA is closed, schools are closed tomorrow. I have to find a way to keep my sanity.

Last night there was a haunted maze in our housing complex. I took Mandy, but she was too frightened to go inside. The other kids on line all loved her Marcelline (from Adventure Time) costume and axe-bass. I made it out of foam board, magic markers, and some other craft items. We usually only go trick-or-treating in our own building, so I'm not too worried about Wednesday, no matter what the weather brings. 

As we're getting closer to Halloween and they're too young for Hellraiser, The kids and I watched Young Frankenstein while we played Civ 5. Rather than just being a parody, it's strong central theme of love and friendship makes it one of Mel Brooks's best films. 

Please be safe. May your lights stay on and your toilets always flush. 


Saturday, October 27, 2012

Oh the object of my affection is to change my complexion...

I met Joe at his school after a dance tonight. Walking back, we stopped at a gas station to get a chocolate milk for him and a beer for me. The guy behind the counter actually carded me. Seriously? I'm going to be forty in a few weeks, for Christ's sake. It must be my boyish good looks. Maybe he wanted a date?

Apparently, President Obama went on a rant against Objectivism, all because Paul Ryan is a fan. First of all, no politician - especially a far Christian Right one - could be said to follow the rules of the philosophy: It requires you to be brutally honest and an atheist. I just don't get all the Rand-hate in recent months, but both sides of the aisle seem to be trying to polarize this election as much as-

No wait - I take that back. The bad cops have portrayed themselves in the most evil light possible, so that everyone will vote for the good cops.

But I digress. 

Like I was saying, I just don't get it. I'm not an Ayn Rand worshiper, I have some problems with Objectivism. It's an "all-or-nothing" ideology for a start. She gives the impression that we hold no debt to our society, and holds the unrealistic ideal that industry can be self-regulating. She also paints the government, social programs, and unions in an extreme, villainous light. Personally, I do think we need to take care of our sick and less fortunate, and that (less extreme and well spent) taxes are a necessity.

But there's a lot of good in a philosophy based on being true to yourself, achievement, having your own mind, that being human is a noble condition, not to bullshit others or ourselves, being your own advocate, that there's nothing shameful in being proud of yourself, seeking an ideal, self reliance instead of dependence on others, to not piss in people's faces and tell them it's raining (not a quote,) and that the meaning of life is to seek your own happiness. Do I manage to do all these things all the time? Of course not, I'm a very fallible person. Should I try harder to? Possibly... but does the unattainability of an ideal take away from it's value?

The problem with any ideology is when people use the good to blindly justify the extremes of the bad, and unfortunately, that's what a lot of wing-nuts on both sides of the aisle do. Liberals insist Atlas Shrugged is dag-nasty evil while ignoring the good in it, conservatives... honestly, I've never seen a conservative professing that we should pattern America after it, though many have said it's their favorite book. But saying that it makes people have no compassion is like saying The Bible makes people bash babies' heads against rocks. The worst part of anything does not define its whole. 

So like anything in life, it's up to you. You can read it and decide for yourself what (if anything) you want to take away from it. I'll make a deal. For every person who reads it, cover to cover, before forming an opinion, I'll do the same for the book of their choice - even Twilight. (Shudders.)


Thursday, October 25, 2012

Two, four, six, eight...

Another day of the routine of trying to come to terms with myself comes to a close. This is the point where I make a joke, to pretend that I'm not feeling depressed or isolated. Here's one I said on twitter

If you transubstantiate avocados, do you get holy guacamole?

I'm becoming disillusioned with twitter. It seems very few people are actually there to read anyone else's tweets or even to say something meaningful, we're all there to promote our book or blog. 75% of the people who follow me just do so because they want a follow in return, or are some sort of bot with the face of a scantily clad bimbo. (Because everyone knows we males are shallow, sex-crazed neanderthals who will just be overjoyed that a pretty face likes us even if it's meaningless - right?) But I shouldn't bitch, because I'm guilty of the same exact thing. Twitterwise, I mean. For the other 25%, thank you.

A few of my facebook friends thought it was funny.

Don't be ashamed of your feelings, don't swallow them all the time. If you do, they eat you away from the inside. People are worth more than that. We all matter.


Wednesday, October 24, 2012

Alphabetti Spaghetti?

A friend of my fathers is dying of cancer. He is in his seventies. He was once a tall, robust man. Now he can only lie in bed, not even able to talk. It terrifies me, and makes me so thankful I have my own health.

I was good to myself today, I walked about four miles. The leaves on the sidewalk cling to each other in brown clumps. Everything goes in cycles. I wrote some more, and repaired another picture for my friends. More Adventure Time, more playgrounds, more Red Dwarf. I'm at the part in Atlas Shrugged where the train full of politicians suffocates, and she details for about five pages why the damn liberal hippies deserved it. A brilliant woman, but with the subtlety of a piranha.

Goodnight my friends, be well.


Tuesday, October 23, 2012

Be it ever so humble

Mom woke me this morning to kiss me goodbye before she went to work. I made dad and myself some bacon and eggs, then we played a few hands of pinochle. He dropped me off at the train station, mercifully before he started listening to Rush Limbaugh.

Back in New York City after alternatively working on story #9 and listening to more of Atlas Shrugged on the train. Mandy and I watched Adventure Time while I did some Photoshop repair on a friend's damaged photographs of her mother. It gave me something productive to do. Later we watched Red Dwarf with Joe while playing Civ. We're up to season three. I like the first two better, when Rimmer is an asshole and the cat is more of a spaz.

Trying to live in the present and taking each moment as it comes. Careful, or I'll start singing "Time in a Bottle." Speaking of time travel, I confess: I was the one who went back in time, got Plato stoned, and made him watch my shadow-puppets.


Monday, October 22, 2012

But now who's gonna dance with me?

Today is my sainted, cute, little, Sicilian mommy's birthday, so I took the train to New Jersey. I went out with my sister and my parents for lunch, some family friends came over, then we went out for Chinese food for dinner. Extra spicy Singapore mei fun, delish! The restaurant played a bunch of whiny 80s love songs, I felt like I was at a middle school dance.

I watched the debates with Dad. That is a measurement of love- if you're willing to watch the debates with someone just to spend time with them. I'll never understand why candidates are allowed to talk over each other. It's like watching an argument in a bar. Everyone has a warm anecdote about an imaginary friend, and how they said this, that, or whatever to inject some human element. No one wants to hear my anecdotes about my imaginary friends, how they came up to me after losing a nose in Tibet and said "Please, Mister LaRocca, pass a law outlawing meditation near hungry yaks!" it's not fair.

Have a good night, whatever your political polarity.


Saturday, October 20, 2012

Friday, October 19, 2012

Sitting on the bench

It's a beautiful night. I was walking, then decided to stop at a park bench. I don't know if I have anything to say tonight, or maybe there's just too much to say.

Did you know that an orbit is when an object falls forever towards a larger object? Or rather, it falls so fast towards an object with greater mass that it whizzes by it, only to be pulled back by it again? And even that's not entirely true. Both object are balanced at their barycenter.  So the barycenter of the Earth and the moon orbit the barycenter of the Earth and the Sun. So what if all these barycenters are the focal points that hold the universe together?

So many intricate parts of a great and wonderful machine.


Thursday, October 18, 2012

Creative Writing 101

Note: Just for the fun of it, here's a story (or at least part of one) off my head for a half hour. No rewriting, warts and all:

Brain X-D49, (or as it liked to call itself, Ecks,) felt a jolt across one of the thousands of pins that impaled his folds and creases. There was a swirl of vertigo as his consciousness was transferred. He was a horse, his hooves pounding across a muddy field, kicking up divots of grass as he tried to find traction. A light figure on his back dug boots into his side, and he spurred on faster. Wind blew across his mane and he lowered his head to-

The sensation ended, and he was back in his jar. A warm jet of dopamine bubbled up and tickled his hippocampus. He felt happy. He wasn't sure what he had done, but he had obviously done it well.

Another pin prickled with electricity. This time, a giant television loomed above him. On the screen, one blob punched another in the stomach. Blob number two's eyes inflated like balloons. Ecks laughed, but all that came out was a sort of gurgle. Everything was huge. A giant woman with hairy legs that ended in fluffy slippers sat in a chair next to the television. He couldn't focus on her, he couldn't focus on anything. He tried to stand, but plopped back on his heavy diaper. There was a wet squishy feeling-

Again, he was home in his jar. Again, a jet of dopamine tickled his fancy. 

Another tingle crossed his nerve endings. He lay on his back, staring at a tiled ceiling. Ecks sighed. He waved his hands in front of his face. They were white and featureless. They didn't even have fingers, they were like marshmallow mittens. He was in Doctor Morrisberg's office, on his padded green imitation leather couch. Again.

"So, X-D49," Doctor Morrisberg said. Ecks turned his head to look at his psychiatrist. He was fat and bald, with horn-rimmed glasses. "What did you experience?"

Ecks related all of the sensations he had experienced since their last session. The sewage worker, the pig at the slaughterhouse, the hamster, the prostitute... he ended with the horse and the baby and let out a long sigh.

"Very interesting," the Doctor said. "And what pattern can you deduce?"

Ecks thought for a long moment. "Mud," he said, "or something wet and with the viscosity of mud. A sensation of dirtiness, of being mired down. The overall emotional translation would be some form of frustration, possibly tingled with guilt."

"Excellent!" Doctor Morrisberg clapped his hands. Ecks stood. He wandered over to the mirror. He saw nothing there, just static. It hurt him to look, as if he had dysesthesia, and looking at his reflection was like being stung in the eyes by bees. He turned away to see the Doctor scribbling furiously in his notebook.

"Will that help?" Ecks asked.


OK, that's thirty minutes. Perhaps I'll add more another time.


Pinch hitting for Pedro Borbón...

I've been taking longer and longer walks these days. It was chilly when I left, but then the sun came down and beat down on my black coat.  After a mile and a half, I got a bowl of wonton soup, then walked back. I passed an old man sitting on a park bench, listening to sports radio. It reminded me of my grandfather, and how he would lay back in a lawn chair in the driveway and listen to baseball games. It made me smile.

I went out for semi-annual drinks with my friend Mike in the East Village last night. We found a deli afterwards with good matzoh ball soup. One of these years I have to take him up on his invitation to dinner. 

I've let the new story idea ferment for a while, I have to figure out how to approach it. Like all my ideas, it's way too complicated, and needs to be trimmed down to something I can work with. Maybe I'll actually outline and chart this one, who knows?

The sun shines. The wind blows mountains of water across the sky. There is no suffering we can't overcome if we refuse to empower it. 


Monday, October 15, 2012


I'm walking and blogging via a wonderful invention called speech to text. I walked three miles earlier. It rained at 5, the sacred time with Mandy and I were supposed to go to the playground, but now it's just dreary. I'm smoking a Logic electronic cigarette. I don't like real cigarettes anymore. 

When I was young, I would devour anything Ray Bradbury wrote. He always stressed that's being a writer meant taking long walks late at night so I always envisioned myself as an adult, walking through the streets of New York City while smoking Marlboros. So here I am, another dream strangely fulfilled. I started listening to more of Atlas Shrugged, my android reading to me in a posh female Speak and Spell voice, but then I realized Bradbury didn't have an android, (clockwork or otherwise) MP3s, books on tape, or even a Walkman. He meant that you were supposed to be all alone with your thoughts inside of your head, those things that we have so many technological means to avoid. So I'm walking, trying to live in the moment, seeing the streetlights reflected off of the rain-slicked asphalt. A 1980s VW Jetta with square angles has been hand painted black and red, with hot pink hubcaps. Whoever said "Fuck what everyone thinks, I'm doing that." - I want to buy them a drink.

I watched an animated film called Mary and Max on Netflix. It's the most beautiful film I've seen in a long time. It took a while before I stopped crying.


In this lobby, will there be TP?

I worked on a comic tonight while I watched a movie called Metropia. It was animated like one of those Jib-Jab shorts, as if everyone was a life-like cutout. I might have enjoyed it more if it was live action, because I didn't see the need for it to be animated. It seemed to be dystopian for the sake of being dystopian. I'm watching old Beavis and Butthead episodes now. Not only are they making me laugh, but their characters seem more real.

I went with the kids to an old friend's daughter's birthday party. I guess he and I grew up at some point, or at least we pretend to pretty well. Sometimes it's nice spending time with people just to spend time with them. 

Poor Jeeter. First he annoyed the crap out of me by not getting a hit in the 11th inning last night, then he snapped his ankle in the twelfth. It was good to sit up until one am with my dad and watch the game though. 

Why is it "twelfth" and not "twelveth"? I won't be able to sleep now.


Saturday, October 13, 2012

Lourdes Almighty

Hello my friends. I'm at my parents house, in one of my old rooms (age 6-10,) lying under the watchful eyes of Jesus. My mother blessed me with holy water like she would do when I was a child. Her faith and love is more touching than I can say.

Mandy is going to have her tonsils out soon - but not soon enough. Every jerking snort of her sleep apnea terrifies me. I have a prescription for a sleep study myself. I've left a message as instructed, but no one's called me back. Why do I have to always be such a squeaky wheel to get anything done? I'm tired.

I'm in the middle of Sometimes a Great Notion but I have a strong urge to read Atlas Shrugged again. My father mentioned the movie out of the blue tonight. He's never mentioned it before, so I assume he heard it on TV. I don't think he's ever read it. I'm still amazed at all the venom spewed at objectivism this year. I wonder if it came from both sides to discredit Ron Paul. Either way, I need my batteries recharged.

I'm letting the ideas for story number nine cook in my subconscious a little bit. I have wonderful ways of filling my mind with useless fears and anxieties. Sometimes I'm proud of the fact that I function. That's why I've always admired good people with great inner strength. Sometimes people are stronger than they give themselves credit for.

Take care of yourselves.


Friday, October 12, 2012

Into the Woods

I'm going to depict one of two stories for my collection's cover art. Since one of those takes place in a forest, I went for a walk in the woods today to take some reference photos. It was such a dark and dreary day, but once or twice the sun peeked out and I was able to get the effect I was looking for. When I was young I would walk in the woods all the time. It became a special place for me. I find myself more and more fascinated by trees. I passed one today with such bizarre, lumpy bark, as if someone took the tree trunk, dipped it in wax, and let it dry in clumps.

Joe aced his Spanish test so I took him and Amanda to King Yum for some delicious Chinese food, great service, and of course, karaoke. I used to frequent it years ago, when Joe was a baby. The owner and the DJ who remember him get such a kick out of the fact that he towers over everyone now. Everyone sang "Hotel California" with him, and Mandy wowed them with "Funky Town." None of the usual crowd I remembered from so many years ago is there anymore. It's a new crowd, and they all knew each other and were happy.

Sweet dreams.


Thursday, October 11, 2012

Thank you, I'll be here all night

I started reading Sometimes a Great Notion by Ken Kesey. It's a bit harder to follow than One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest because the narrative keeps switching perspective and setting, but I can't put it down. I love Kesey's use of language and description.

I watched an old Doctor Who episode with Mandy, now we're watching King of the Hill. Joe went to bed early, so we're sharing time together. She wants to play Civilization V. I have to explain what the different units do and what the different sciences are, etc. but we're having fun.  She's playing as Catherine the Great. When she saw her character's picture, she asked "Why doesn't the queen have glasses?"

I should really be a stand-up comic. For example - "You know why foreplay makes ducks so depressed? They always wind up feeling a little down."

I'm off to supersledge some roboscorpions. Don't forget to tip your waitresses.


Wednesday, October 10, 2012

Listen while I tell you, a story real and true...

Today, I listened to Doctor Who: "The Butcher of Brisbane." I have to admit I was a little disappointed. Not that the story itself was bad, but because it's a prequel to the classic episode "The Talons of Weng-Chiang." I always loved in that episode when the Doctor mentioned that he was with the Filipino army in their 50th century advance on Reykjavik, and wondered what a battle set so far in the future would be like. I imagined it had happened when he was the First Doctor. When I first saw "Talons" (probably at the age of thirteen) I had also read a short story about a battle between humans and an angelic race that was out-evolving them, and superimposed the untold stories together. So yes, "Butcher" was a great story, it just couldn't stand up to my imagination.

Speaking of audio dramas, I landed a part in the upcoming Christmas episode of Harry Strange Radio Drama. I wish so much I could perform it with the rest of the cast, but it's a bit of a schlep to Georgia. I'll have to record my bits separately, but of course I'm happy and looking forward to it. 


Tuesday, October 09, 2012

My Career as a Leather Bar Extra

Last week, I was an extra in a sketch my friend Nannette Deasy Baumgardner wrote and starred in with her husband Robert. It's always fun doing things like this, even if it involves bouncing your head to imaginary music, wearing a little leather, and gasping in stark horror at someone's dorky femininity. Good people make for good times. Enjoy! 



Monday, October 08, 2012

I can't believe I'm wearing a coat. I had the A/C on yesterday, and today I'm wearing a coat. Looking at it, I really should have washed it first. There's some crud caked on the ends of the sleeves. I'm not in the habit of wiping my nose on my coat, but I don't feel like explaining that to everyone I meet. "Hello there, don't worry. Whatever is on my sleeves, it's definitely not snot." It might be a good conversation starter though.

I met some friends at a geek-themed bar in Brooklyn called The Way Station last night. Their drink menu is Doctor Who based, and their bathroom door is a TARDIS front. We annoyed patrons with full bladders by spending five minutes talking pictures in front of it. Dalek paraphernalia cover the walls, and a video projector showed "The Sound of Drums." I was in Nerdvana. I had a great time, it's just a shame it's not closer.

There's a way of upscaling films to the point where they look like video, because the frame rate is so high and there is no dithering. The quality is definitely cleaner, but it looks cheesier for some reason. If you have a player that can do this, try watching an old movie and you'll see what I mean. Peter Jackson has supposedly shot The Hobbit in this format (48fps), and is annoyed that people who have seen clips of it don't like it. I'm just wondering how he can stretch it out into two movies.


Saturday, October 06, 2012

Defying my Discs

It's autumn. When I walk, the leaves blow across my feet like tiny birds, scurrying to migrate from the yards, across the sidewalk, and into the street. About a quarter mile down the road, the street sweeper comes and whisks them away to paradise.

I pass four or five maples in a row. Their patterns are all uniformly vertical except one. Its bark twists in a clockwise spiral all the way up to the sky. What infinity slight deviation in its DNA caused that?

Every fire hydrant I passed is rusty and caked with grime. They may never be used, they may be forgotten, but they're always ready to do their duty.

I took the kids bowling. After watching them play, I had to join in for at least one game, even though I really shouldn't. My back is thankfully still intact. 

Adulthood sneaks up on you, it's that moment when the trap clamps down on you and you realize you have nothing sorted out, nothing figured out, but you're supposed to be strong and brave, a guide for the ones who need you. Maybe that's why so many take comfort in religion, the rules are already laid out.

A line from the theme song from the classic film M*A*S*H, (and if you've only seen the TV show, yes, it has lyrics.) keeps repeating in my head:

"A brave man once requested me
To answer questions that are key.
'Is it to be or not to be?'
And I replied 'Oh, why ask me?'"


Friday, October 05, 2012

Let me hear your body talk...

I had a physical today. Somehow I have "amazing" blood pressure, even though my BMI is somewhere on the chart under "Repulsive." I didn't bother explaining that BMI completely disregards muscle mass, that it was created by a Belgian statistician 170 years ago and was never meant to set any sort of standard. What's the point? My mother asked if they checked my prostate (it's a concern as my father is a two-time cancer survivor.) I restrained myself from telling her yes, but the doctor didn't even bother to give me flowers...

I drew a picture for Illustration Friday but it wound up being too depressing. That and it really wasn't any good. Sometimes I think I should do this anonymously. But I don't just want to vent my spleen out into the internet either.

My children want to be near me, and I want to be near them. It's not always sunshine. There are times I don't want to be superdad and take them here and there - but what else would I do, except hide with a blanket over my head? It's important for me too to have stuff to do and look forward to. It's like a race to keep myself from feeling isolated. My friends were always good to me, even when they couldn't be there. I just need to say thank you.

Wishing you happiness, always.


Thursday, October 04, 2012


It's ridiculously warm and humid for October. The doors are warping. 

Everything is blurred, I don't know what to think or feel anymore. I just know I can't sleep, because I'm always afraid for the people I love and wondering if they're ok. No one wants to tell me what's going on. But I guess everyone feels that way after watching the debates.

I went for a walk early this morning. I put my earbuds in, but didn't actually listen to anything. An Asian woman came up to me about a mile out, flailing her arms in the darkness. She led me around the corner, where an elderly Jewish man (with a yarmulke) lay in the street, blood around his face. He had had some sort of episode, fell, and his glasses cut into the bridge of his nose. He was moaning and responsive. I called 911 and waited for the ambulance. I put his bag under his head  stood in front of him and waved my arms whenever traffic came so he wouldn't get hit. A few people pulled over and asked if they could help. One man knew the gentleman and called his wife. Soon the ambulance came and the paramedics took him inside. Friends and family were better for him than a stranger, so I went on my way.

The odd thing is that I've called 911 from this intersection before. A mentally ill woman was wandering in the middle of the street, shouting to herself while cars whizzed by her. I came across another elderly man collapsed on the pavement once, but that was right outside of his apartment building. Sometimes we're in the right place at the right time for others, even if we can't ever seem to be for ourselves.


Wednesday, October 03, 2012


Lying in bed on my back in the dark, my head cradled by a brilliant invention called "memory foam." The ceiling is cracked. The paint is peeling. I don't have to see it to know. My sun, warm, kind and good, is shining on a side of the planet I can't feel. Trees fall in the forest. Their brittle wood cracks, creaking, and popping, then crashing down amidst dried leaves and beetles. They pound the earth like the feet of giants - all without needing me to hear. Quantum physics is wrong; the universe spins quite happily on its own. It doesn't need me to observe.


Tuesday, October 02, 2012

Sleeping on the Couch

Spending the night at my friends' house. Their poor toddler has a virus, and I hope I didn't catch anything. But how could I resist picking her up and playing with her when she runs into my leg and hugs me? Another daughter has a friend over and she introduced me as her "uncle, sort of like another dad." I can't describe how good that made me feel.

We watched Dark Shadows, a remake of the old soap. It was good, though I think they tried to cram a little too much of the whole series into it. But to be honest, I never watched it growing up, I was too busy with the shows all the other cool kids watched. Like Doctor Who.


Monday, October 01, 2012

It's a Day

It's 5 PM, I'm sitting here watching Amanda play on the swings. All the kids at this playground are younger than her, but the company still makes her happy. Because of her learning disabilities, it's hard for her to understand the same things as other kids her age.

I've just about finished story number eight. I have to admit, I haven't taken any real joy in it. There's nothing wrong with the story,  it just doesn't feel like a joyful day. I played Submachine 8. It was very creative as always, but they always feel just like parts of the game, there's no real satisfying payoff story-wise at the end.

Cherish the people who bring joy into your life, make sure they know how good they are, make sure they never forget they matter. Old memories are beautiful, but I need to build some new ones.


P.S. - If I put a cherry bomb in a bowl of Chinese dumpling soup, would it be considered an act of wonton destruction?

P.P.S. - How about a communal wine distilled from rice? I could call it "For Christ's Sake."