Get Smart (or creative).

Donor.
Skinned shoe.

guts and all.

Just like with baby seals, we only keep the parts we can use.
WTF?

A Muzzle?
Kinda a muzzle, we call it a barrel.
one more piece to put on.
gotta cover the barrel.
Nearly finished! Still need a waistband clip ( I think I'll make it from a tape measure)
This photo doesn't do the crappy needlework, or mismatched thread color justice.
How perfect? the (padded) seam doesn't hit the mag release.
Skechers brand concealed carry Holster!

Honest to a Fault

Hello again, Dear Reader.

Not a lot of substance today. Just an update on what is going on for me.

Got the call back about the promotion/job change I applied for this week. the answer was "no."
My roommate asked me if they said why... They can't exactly say "well, we had made up our minds who we were going to give it to before we even announced the opening. We just let you apply and interview for it as a courtesy." that, and "well, see... there are only 3 positions open, and you're number 7 as seniority goes..."I'm totally confident that I made a strong argument for myself. But that's a moot point when the decision is already made.

If nothing else, I can retain my dignity that I have been 100 percent honest throughout the process. I have no problem talking myself up, and I have no problem admitting my faults. Which, I believe, is something uncommon. Then again, maybe my unwillingness to deny that I have room for improvement was the deal-breaker. I was ready to take inventory of my faults and acknowledge them. Nobody is perfect. Somehow I can believe that the administration is more concerned with finding the people who will say the words "I'm your man." than they are with whether or not that statement is true. Even though I see time and time again that people just want to hear the words, I can't bring myself to lie. The bottom line is, I want this job because I'm sick of sacrificing every weekend to work, breaking my back and dealing with a system that is dysfunctional without being able to give my constructive input.

In other news, I got to talk to my dad for a good hour or so today. Got caught up on the weather and whatnot. I offered to spoil the ending of my script for him, but he wouldn't hear of it. He seems honestly enthusiastic about my passion for film. He encourages me and supports me in pursuing it.

I made a graph on my whiteboard (just beneath the one that tells me how many more pages of my screenplay I need to write before I allow myself to shave). It's one of those cheesy thermometer-style goal graphs. It's reassuring to see how close I am to getting my first video camera. As close as I am, I decided to keep going with it and tack on a budget for tricking it out with a standalone hard drive system so I don't have to deal with DV tapes/capture/file transfer. Or, at least, minimize it.

I'm about to kick back and enjoy the remainder of my "weekend" (since tomorrow I have to go to work and deal with all the people who I feel just snubbed their noses at me...) I'm doing some "research" in the form of a documentary on homeless folks. I'll let you know how it goes.

thanks for reading.

Pregnant

I realized in the middle of my early dinner that I may be pregnant.

Pregnant people (usually women) have the weirdest tastes when it comes to food.

Today I had a strawberry poptart, covered in peanut butter.

then I proceeded to eat mac and cheese, dip-style, on salt and vinegar chips.

Those Rainy days, They ain't so Bad....

"Homegrown. Rock to the rhythm and bop to the beat of the radio.
You ain't got to sing but you've got the face to play the roll"

-Fans. Kings of Leon

It rained today. I was asleep for most of it.

I got off work at 11:45 last night (as is customary). I got home feeling so tired I almost fell asleep standing at the fridge looking for something to snack on. Around midnight I heard the wind pick up outside. It was almost like a foley track from a really low-budget creeper movie. I like the sound of the whistling wind it actually made me perk up and get a little pang of nostalgia in my tummy. I decided to grab my blankets and pillows and sleep on the couch where the sound of the wind was really, for lack of a better term, perfect.

Upon ascending the stairs to my remotely-located room, I felt that I would not make it back to the couch, especially laden with bedding. Being unable to hear the beck and call of the wind, I resolved to dive into the middle of my king-sized comforter poured out on my twin sized bed and bury my face in my silky pillows and think myself to sleep, contemplating how to drive my story forward.

You can't truly experience a silk pillowcase until you grow a full beard. You would think that it would be smoother on bare skin, but even an unkempt beard feels smooth against silk... like a myriad of tiny ice skates supporting your face. It may be a stretch to say that it is also like having a million antennae feeling for any imperfection in the knit of silk and finding none.

what I'm trying to say is, I fell asleep quite peacefully.

When I awoke it seemed like the wee hours of the morning... maybe 7 or so. The light was smudged out like the sun had yet to vault the mountain range. In reality it was 1:30 and the sun was filtering through stuffy rainclouds and foggy windows. I had hopes that despite the dreary look, that it would be nice and warm--humid and sticky.

Not so, the rain from the night (or morning... it's all the same to me in this case) was freezing cold. and everything looked muddy. I wanted to work on my motorcycle. I looked forward to that all weekend and now my monday was to be chilly and wet.

It's okay. I went and worked on it anyway. In the process I realized that I could save about a hundred dollars on parts if I struck some items from an order I placed thursday afternoon.
I checked, it appeared as though my order had not been processed as of 4PM so I canceled it and reordered only the parts I need.

I plan to have a perfectly awful looking, fully functional motorcycle by the end of the month.

I took a 2 hour nap at around 7. I got up around 9 and buckled down to write some more of my story. It's tough making a story move forward, finding ways to make it interesting even in the boring everyday parts. I slowly painted the character I needed.

He is about 52 years old, wears a camouflage cap over his graying hair, he cries when he's drunk and he usually is so. when he wants to feel like a productive member of society he goes from store to store collecting business cards, and stuffing them in a wallet with nothing else it it.
He thumbs through these cards with an air of importance. He begs the interest of those around him but is too important to volunteer any insight to them.

He enters the story for about a minute. I don't think we'll hear about him again.

I've been posted up at my computer for about 4 hours talking to friends, plotting my story, listening to Iron and Wine, and now Kings of Leon. I think it's time for me to go.

see you around.

You didn't see that coming, did you?

Yo.

I guess you could say I have a knack for lying. If you hadn't noticed, my blog is only about half true... and that's counting my Alaska road trip accounts. Most of the short stories I write are discernibly fictitious, but I guess I walk a fine line. I'm not surprised when I am asked if one of my true stories is fiction... I deal with that a lot. But I have been asked a few times if my fictional stories is true. I guess there are a few ways to interpret that. Either I have a pretty boring life and write about non-interesting things... and people are puzzled by the similarities. Or the other extreme... I have fairly uncommon experiences and write fictional things that seem to fit in with the rest of my blog. I guess the thing that I would like to hear is that I write convincingly whether it is fact or fiction. It matters less to me if they are incredible stories or mundane... as long as someone is reading them.

I have conceptualized a story that has a BIG twist in it. something that you wouldn't expect at all. and it's way out of the ordinary for my type of writing. I'm developing it into a screenplay, that will hopefully catch someone's eye (f not, i intend to make the film myself).

I have written a few stories that were not supposed to be crazy and mind-blowing, just interesting --Writing outside the box/lines. I have decided not to post them, or just scrapped them altogether because they are too similar to life. these are the stories in which no one is diffusing a bomb, they aren't the accounts of being held hostage in a shootout, no one is running from a serial killer or the mob. The characters are just people. people doing very normal things. I guess these characters are really just a projection of myself, doing very normal things. What I aim for though, is for an element of simplicity that becomes a point of interest for my reader. A concept that is entirely plausible, even likely, that they have never considered. A neighbor who doesn't know what it's like to be behind the wheel of a roadster, because he was too tall to fit in one by the time he got his license. The mischievous behavior of a young adolescent as related by the perpetrator-- with an emphasis on the "fun" aspect, where the expense this "thrill" had for the victims is not even considered without the equally self-centered perspective that getting caught/being in trouble was the worst part of it all. I guess the reason I don't care to share these is because I don't think they would be appreciated. Their lack of conflict/resolution are a bore in comparison to the typical short story.

I am finding an application for this type of writing though. I think it is good practice for creating characters.

I just watched a movie made by Akira Kurosawa in the 50's. It's called "Rashomon" and it deals with the concept that truth is subjective--the whole "eye of the beholder" sort of philosophy. It also makes a strong commentary on human nature and our inclination to omit self-incriminating information. or, in some instances, to exaggerate or take pride in these details.

To tie this back in with the theme, I think I have a knack for considering the unique perspective of the characters I write about. I guess you could say I write personal accounts for different personalities. When I say my characters are a projection of myself, what I mean is that I consider the "life" of my character and decide what kind of person I would be/how I would act if I had those same experiences.

The one thing that doesn't work well is that I don't-in simple words- know the "life" of my characters. I know the situations I know who they are at the point that they are faced with the situation. I know the result of how their past, but not their pasts. At least not in a was I can describe or depict. it's just a feeling.

That sucks. Because right now I need to know these things. I need to be able to tell that story.

I'm writing a screenplay. It is a pretty tough job. Luckily I have an interesting (I think so at least) story to tell. But as far as my characters... I am having such a difficult time building a background story for them --a past.

I think the best solution for this is a pretty boring one. Lots of information. I'm reading books on the subject. I'm researching historical facts for accuracy. I'm learning statistics. Protocol and policies. Case studies.

I've done it before for other stories, but I have a feeling this is going to equal more than just a few papers or a book. This one's gonna be a biggie. I have a book on the homeless population, a book about the rehabilitation program for mental patients as of 1964. I have a "wish list" on half.com for a book on the internal operations of a cult-like movement in the 1930's.