So much pain in my behind. Yesterday I went on a hike with the giants. Tall Sean leads these mountain expeditions – picked this one because it would be dry early in the season, and it was. But literally uphill for two and half hours straight. My ass will never be the same. Even bigger John quivered dangerously on the way down while Tall Sean’s parents and fiancée looked worst on the latter parts of the death march to “gain the ridge”.
People who write hiking guidebooks should be shot, "moderately".
Of course the biggest pain in my ass will soon subside. I got a new job and am thus ten working days from fleeing the Palace of Broken Dreams. Lady Rose thinks I should blow them off sooner, but despite the many times they screwed me over I feel obliged to give the proper two weeks. Still, I'm giddily doing a shoddy job - I'm even posting this blog from work!
Edgy.
Monday, April 25, 2005
Saturday, April 16, 2005
Benchmark Blues
I should be excited. I just finished 50,000 words on my novel. Why am I still so blue?
'Cause you suck.
Lady Rose and Falula (the evil twin) went out this afternoon, then called me to ferry them to a later engagement with at least some of the pirates. I'm expecting a call from her ladyship when she wants to get picked up. I chose to stay, to write. Its supposed to be a chance for me to get deep into the writing. But I barely got enough to meet my number, and immediately went off to watch old episodes of Enterprise I've had on tape for months.
He got his first chance to really work, and he folded like a cheap card table. Is it all a bluff we wonder? Is he really just playing for time before he admits that the "writer" thing is an ill-fitting costume that does nothing more than justify the lack of any other direction?
I hate waiting for the call. I should be doing things, at least entertaining myself, but better yet accomplishing something. Even doing the god-damn dishes.
Yeah. Cause dishes will make you feel better.
'Cause you suck.
Lady Rose and Falula (the evil twin) went out this afternoon, then called me to ferry them to a later engagement with at least some of the pirates. I'm expecting a call from her ladyship when she wants to get picked up. I chose to stay, to write. Its supposed to be a chance for me to get deep into the writing. But I barely got enough to meet my number, and immediately went off to watch old episodes of Enterprise I've had on tape for months.
He got his first chance to really work, and he folded like a cheap card table. Is it all a bluff we wonder? Is he really just playing for time before he admits that the "writer" thing is an ill-fitting costume that does nothing more than justify the lack of any other direction?
I hate waiting for the call. I should be doing things, at least entertaining myself, but better yet accomplishing something. Even doing the god-damn dishes.
Yeah. Cause dishes will make you feel better.
Thursday, April 14, 2005
Four questions
Should you write when you are depressed?
Should you be so precarious?
Should you let things go?
Should you watch life slip away?
Should you be so precarious?
Should you let things go?
Should you watch life slip away?
Sunday, April 03, 2005
The Sunday that bites back
Stupid daylight savings time - the switchback is always a surreal sunday. When I was young it was always the sunday where you laughed at all the people who came in late for church. Now its a time where you manage to feel unrested as you botch making pancakes and fail to pass the next level on a children's video game. I finally got the day turned around when I put our barbecue to use for the first time this year.
We watched Lost in Space, the movie, after dinner, because it was on the Space Station and we were bored. But we watched it on tape to avoid the commercials.
Basically they wasted the whole flipping day.
Hey, we did some dishes.
Oooh. Intense.
Tonight when I sat down to read a bit from The Right to Write by Julia Cameron I got chastised but good - the chapter was on waiting for the "mood" to write. So I laughed at myself again for how easily I fall into traps so obvious a stranger knows I'm going to hit them and forced myself to at least edit a bit - and ended up putting down 500 words or so of new stuff too.
Oh! Lady Rose and I also planned out meals for the week and even decided to invite our parents over for a barbecue next weekend. I've got to get fillings done this week and I'm not sure which fills me with more dread.
I don't know who he thinks he's kidding. Deep down he believes that all dentists are nazis. Pencil us in for maudlin whining late Thursday night.
We watched Lost in Space, the movie, after dinner, because it was on the Space Station and we were bored. But we watched it on tape to avoid the commercials.
Basically they wasted the whole flipping day.
Hey, we did some dishes.
Oooh. Intense.
Tonight when I sat down to read a bit from The Right to Write by Julia Cameron I got chastised but good - the chapter was on waiting for the "mood" to write. So I laughed at myself again for how easily I fall into traps so obvious a stranger knows I'm going to hit them and forced myself to at least edit a bit - and ended up putting down 500 words or so of new stuff too.
Oh! Lady Rose and I also planned out meals for the week and even decided to invite our parents over for a barbecue next weekend. I've got to get fillings done this week and I'm not sure which fills me with more dread.
I don't know who he thinks he's kidding. Deep down he believes that all dentists are nazis. Pencil us in for maudlin whining late Thursday night.
Getting Spicy with the Evil Twin
Saturday afternoon I go pick up Falula, the evil twin, and bring her back to our place for some friendly gossip while I fiddle with a weird 'cube game called "Pikmin" - demented flower creatures assist you to rebuild your broken spacecraft? - before heading out to a restaurant on Centre we've been meaning to try.
Lady Rose lived in Thailand for six months last year so the three of us headed over to "Bangkoknoi Restaurant" to see if it lived up to the real thing. Cute little place, but the blue and yellow paint job makes me think it's just a splash of pseudo-Thai art from the italian restaurant it used to be.
Service is authentically Thai - slow with lots of apologizing. The food was pretty good - we didn't go hard core on the spice to be certain and it was plenty tasty for whitebreads like Falula and I. Thought the Chicken with Cashew Nuts was just okay, but the curry and the Som Tam (Papaya Salad - sweet and oh-so-spicy) brought back the funky (literally) streets of Bangkok.
Thailand exists for me now as a long and dreary six months away from her Ladyship broken by a three week jaunt across the world during semester break that tossed me into her surreal other life - more a tourist of her world than Thailand per se though we had a lot of adventures exploring Chaing Mai province. Bangkok is a teaming, sprawling, monster of a city with rich and poor splashed together and stir-fried into a culture that is neither ancient nor modern. Its blood runs thick in murky stank-filled canals. To eat authentic Thai is to dance with death.
After the meal, we wheeled across the city to catch up with the Captain's crew for a late showing of Sin City. Perfect film for the meal - spicy, nasty, but funny and glorious to watch. Very artful, very true to itself. Looked like a comic book made film, not a comic book movie. Honest and brutal. Beautiful.
Don't let him fool you. This is a film about tits and action. A nut grabber.
After the flick we left Falula with the pirates (she bunks with the Captain and his mate) and dashed down the hill for home. The revenge of the orient was headed our way and our nether regions have gotten way out of shape.
It kicked the crap out of us. Literally.
Lady Rose lived in Thailand for six months last year so the three of us headed over to "Bangkoknoi Restaurant" to see if it lived up to the real thing. Cute little place, but the blue and yellow paint job makes me think it's just a splash of pseudo-Thai art from the italian restaurant it used to be.
Service is authentically Thai - slow with lots of apologizing. The food was pretty good - we didn't go hard core on the spice to be certain and it was plenty tasty for whitebreads like Falula and I. Thought the Chicken with Cashew Nuts was just okay, but the curry and the Som Tam (Papaya Salad - sweet and oh-so-spicy) brought back the funky (literally) streets of Bangkok.
Thailand exists for me now as a long and dreary six months away from her Ladyship broken by a three week jaunt across the world during semester break that tossed me into her surreal other life - more a tourist of her world than Thailand per se though we had a lot of adventures exploring Chaing Mai province. Bangkok is a teaming, sprawling, monster of a city with rich and poor splashed together and stir-fried into a culture that is neither ancient nor modern. Its blood runs thick in murky stank-filled canals. To eat authentic Thai is to dance with death.
After the meal, we wheeled across the city to catch up with the Captain's crew for a late showing of Sin City. Perfect film for the meal - spicy, nasty, but funny and glorious to watch. Very artful, very true to itself. Looked like a comic book made film, not a comic book movie. Honest and brutal. Beautiful.
Don't let him fool you. This is a film about tits and action. A nut grabber.
After the flick we left Falula with the pirates (she bunks with the Captain and his mate) and dashed down the hill for home. The revenge of the orient was headed our way and our nether regions have gotten way out of shape.
It kicked the crap out of us. Literally.
Wednesday, March 30, 2005
It begins...
Everyone has to have a blog, or so the wisdom goes. The wisdom also says that peace can be had in our time, but I don't know about that. What I've got, a spin doctor can't cure.
Wait for it folks, I'm sure he's got one more...
Starting a blog at this point feels like getting on the magic bus after the acid-laced OJ has already been passed around.
There you go. I told you. Just be glad there wasn't a haiku. Now the introductions. Sigh.
I'm Rostock Rose, a writer of sorts in Calgary, Alberta. I work at a local college as an advisor for graduates, helping them in their job search, while I search desperately for something better for myself. On the side I write plays for a theatre company I co-founded (Hidden Insanity Theatre!), dabble very occasionally in journalism, and plug away on my novel in spare hours of the evening.
In short, he's too chicken to risk failing as a writer, so he dabbles.
Married with two cats. Sad about the world. Not really doing anything about it.
I'm going to stop him now. For all our sakes. Come back if you dare.
Wait for it folks, I'm sure he's got one more...
Starting a blog at this point feels like getting on the magic bus after the acid-laced OJ has already been passed around.
There you go. I told you. Just be glad there wasn't a haiku. Now the introductions. Sigh.
I'm Rostock Rose, a writer of sorts in Calgary, Alberta. I work at a local college as an advisor for graduates, helping them in their job search, while I search desperately for something better for myself. On the side I write plays for a theatre company I co-founded (Hidden Insanity Theatre!), dabble very occasionally in journalism, and plug away on my novel in spare hours of the evening.
In short, he's too chicken to risk failing as a writer, so he dabbles.
Married with two cats. Sad about the world. Not really doing anything about it.
I'm going to stop him now. For all our sakes. Come back if you dare.
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