Like a huge home-grown tomato nutured from one tiny seed, perhaps some good times will grow out of my bad times, someday.
Maybe the VCR breaking is God's way of saying I'm too idle, or maybe it's just more bad luck...who knows? Another thing to add to my fantasy "wishlist," I guess.
I wish my life was a fantasy. If my life were a reality show, it'd be a real doozy. Or a real snoozy, ha-ha.
The DW story is rolling along--except that I'm stuck on finding a name for the EB (evil being). I suppose I'll think of something, eventually. And if not---maybe I'll name it an "EEBEE", ha-ha. I love writing fan fiction--although I haven't actually done any, in over 15 years--because the main characters are already there...I only have to worry about captureing their essance, and don't have to work a character from scratch, like a regular short story. Worked on re-vamping my resume--not that it'll probably do much good, but gotta' stay in practice. Anyway, I don't write much fiction at all, as a rule. About one short story a year or maybe one every other year. Mostly I've writen essays and feature stories, short plays...some poetry and journal entries, plus some press releases and speeches. But not much fiction, not very good at it--at least that's my belief.
My fiction tends to be the opposite, strangely enough, of what I actually like to read. My fiction can sometimes be dry and tedious...at least I think so. But fan fiction is different, because the characters and even some of the settings, are already there--I'm so familar and comfortable with them already, that the story almost writes itself. That's a big plus for me. I've mostly written Who fiction, but also a couple of stories from the 80's CBS detective show, Simon and Simon, and, once, a fan piece for the old show, The Hardy Boys--my first, when I was in high school. Oh yeah, and a fan fiction piece for Battlestar Galatica (the original series) and also the 80's show, The Equalizer. I write original stuff, too, but it's really dry and not very good, and lots of times I don't even bother finishing it. I have a short story, a mystery, that I've been stopping and starting on for over a year, now. Don't think it'll ever get done. :) No one--I mean, no one, has read any of my fiction since 1987. Except for schoolwork, of course. But I only had to write one story in all of five years of college, so that doesn't really count. Do plays count?
One of the highlights of my college years, was during my broadcast writing class. For my final project, I choose to segway my playwriting class with my journalism class. I wrote, directed and co-produced a 20-minute radio play, a comedy. It was kind of lame on the humor, but my acting buddies did a simply
incredible job--even my sound effects guy did great. The head of the college's radio studio was an unbelieveable help--with NO rehersals and only 15 minutes prep time, we only had to do two takes, and I find that simply amazing! Plus, and I and all my people all had a great time--I got an A in Broadcast writing and playwriting..and won a scholastic award in theater for my efforts. It was a great semester, that year, the best I ever had. Broadcast writing is the hardest thing I ever had to do--writing things down--and recording them-- quite literally, to the very minute--hair-raising. As a matter of fact, I think that's when I started noticeing those grey hairs at my temples, ha-ha. The only writing that ever gave me a migrane was broadcast writing--and, sometimes, when I was writing a story for my other college's newspaper, trying to write a catchy lead...ugh! I hate writing leads! ...but, that's another story.
I have to try and get some sleep. Why is it, when you know you have to get up at the crack of dawn, you can't sleep? Happens every week. When I know I can sleep in a little bit---bam! I'm asleep. I have to get up at 4:30 am (EST), and...WIDE AWAKE, thank you very much. Murphy's law, I guess--when you need to sleep, you can't. When you can sleep in--no problemo.
It's been hard on me, lately. Over the last few years, I had the care of my sick parents and college, and other things to occupy me and help me feel like I was doing something with my life--going somewhere. Now---nothing. It's hard. On top of that, I'm trapped in poverty, like never before. Before, I had relatives to lean on...now, no one, really. My sister's nearly as broke as I am--her guy won't let her work (the same guy that made her get a boob job--don't ask). My friend, L___, has been a peach, but, she's not that close to me. We haven't even seen each other in over a year. I am blessed to know her, but I don't feel--will never entirely feel--comfortable sharing my burdens with her. I really am tired of my life, and I wish I could just make it all go away somewhere--but, this is the real world, and I can't.
On the news front: Old GB wants Iraqis to "take more responsibility." Ha! This from a man who went AWOL from duty in the military, did drugs in college, refuses to read a newspaper, lied repeatedly about reasons for going to war and can't even admit he's made a mistake until he drops below forty in the polls...in the words of Austin Powers, "Riiiight." The National Weather Service told Florida not to panic, that the storm was only a tropical storm, then they issue hurricane warnings...now it's a tropical storm again...make up your minds, fellas! Talk about trying to cover all the bases, sheesh! Locally: another guy killed from my old town of Corinth. It's a small (former) mill town in the southern Adirondacks. Strictly blue collar, still...although they seem to be trying to yuppie-fy lately, with some fancy stores and such. One building is entirely decorated with snowshoes, porch to eaves. Anyway, with bars outnumbering churches, there's a lot of drinking problems. So, there's also a lot of DWI deaths. Didn't know this guy, though.
Have to sign off, my blog is acting weird again. Just froze and then started publishing or something, then went back to normal again--entirely on its own. Too weird for words.
4:24 PM (EST):
Honey, I'm Hooome! Whoops, no one here but me...well, at least the cats are glad to see me, anyway. Landlord left a note pasted to my door--"garbage pick up is at 7 am tommorow!" Guess I'll have to do the nasty tonight then, won't I? I'm noshing on some chicken and spaghetti for dinner--yum! The sauce is fab. Tuesdays is my only 1st shift day, so I always try to put something in the slow cooker before I leave the house in the morning--that way no worries about cooking dinner. This sauce is a bit spicer that what I'd normally like, but it works...it's really good. The local butcher shop up the road makes it's own sauces, marinades, salad dressings and preserves. The sauce is not too chunky nor is it too thin. Nice blend of spices, too. Goes great on chicken. With the addition of a little mozzerella cheese on top, and a demi-loaf of fresh baked Italian bread and a tossed green salad--I've got a meal fit for a queen!
I was reading this blog by a guy (assuming he's in the U.K. by his blog) about cafe's in England. It's really interesting reading. I had no idea that the English felt about their greasy spoons, the same way we here in the states do--it's nice...they even call them "greasy spoons, too." I had no idea. I grew up eating in "greasy spoons," heck yes. The one I remember most, of course, was Lou's Diner--even wrote a poem about it, once, a long time ago. It was on the northern border of our village, bordering the 'burb of Port Schuyler. It was one of those vintage 1930's-40's trailer (caravan) type diners, that have suddenly become so chic again with certain types. It came complete with greasy hamburgers and fries (chips), and the scambled eggs were great. My dad used to take us to a place called Cocoa's a lot, It sat next to the railroad tracks, in nearby Watervilet. The diner was a typical 60's establishment. It was awful. They put the greasy, in greasy spoon...but dad liked it 'cause it was cheap. I remember first hearing "King of the Road" playing on the jukebox in there, and buying my dad a pack of Pall Mall cigarettes from the vending machine (60 cents, back then). Later, another diner was put in, just a few doors down...can't recall the name right now...they both were on 21st street---oh yeah, it was Bob's Diner--how could I forget that? The whole family used to eat there(me, sis, mom, dad, brother-in-law)--either altogether, or by pairs or whatever. I loved their turkey club sandwiches...and their homemade pies were to die for. But, sometimes, the food stunk, too--depended on who was doing the cooking and what time of day it was. My cheapskate dad even took us there for Thanksgiving Day dinner once--it was really bad, that time. Bob's was just a little hole in the wall, but the people were friendly and the food was mostly homemade. Speaking of homemade, there used to be a diner called "Home Sweet Home" in Halfmoon, NY. It was torn down, eventually, but they made everything from scratch, and their bread pudding was to die for.
The Miss Albany Diner on broadway in Albany (still there, I think, but different owners now) had great breakfasts--real dockworkers breakfasts. The diner was pretty run down when I used to eat there as a kid, but later it was refurbished for a movie (Ironweed? or some gangster movie? Can't remember) to it's original grand appearance. There is another refurbished diner, the Birdseye Diner on state route 4-A in Castleton, Vermont--don't eat there...it's awful and the prices border the ridiculous. They are nearly the only resturant in town, and you pay for that and the decor...certainly not for the mediocre food...it's a nice place from the outside though...very Norman Rockwell.
One place in Vermont that I love the most, is a little cafe in Fairhaven, right across the street from Carl Durfee's Clothing Store, and just down from the village green. It's called "The Wooden Soldier." The has got to be the #1 very best greasy spoon I've EVER eaten at. They make everything right from scratch. The cream of tomato soup is lovely--smooth, creamy and just a tiny bit sweet, not too tart. They roast their own turkey, and the turkey sandwiches are made right from the roast. The prices are excellent, as well. The wonderful breakfast selections would fil the stomach of the heftiest New England farmer. The resturant has been there for years, and is just off of Exit 2 of Route 4, just across the border from Hampton, NY. And, there's another pretty good truckstop in Hampton, that I used to go to, sometimes..especially for breakfast. It's the Big Apple Truck Stop, right in the heart of nowhere. They've also got good homemade soups, great pancakes and sausage, and fairly good burgers, too. I really like little mom and pop diners, sometimes they're awful, and sometimes--sometimes they are a true gem.
Food here in the north country (Southern Adirondacks) can be pretty bad. There was a diner within walking distance where I lived in Lake Luzerne. It was called simply "Forth Lake Diner" (probably because it was indeed, in Forth Lake). They used to serve the very best breakfast--2 eggs any way you want them, kilbasi, bacon or sausage (your choice), with toast and homefries (potatoes)...all for under $5. Unfortunately, someone new took it over, and, quite frankly, she can't cook worth a darn. It's really, really bad, now, even though the menu's basically the same. We had another diner in my hometown that I sometimes went to as a kid--I don't know if it even had a name--it was (and I believe, still is) at the Regional Farmer's Market. Very good hearty breakfasts, cheap, too. My hometown had another diner, but it was a typical Greek diner--a huge multi-page menu featuring practiaclly everything--from gourmet, to ethnic, to junk food to diet plates--along with a cranky old Greek couple to go with it. Most Greek diners are exactly the same, around here: Menands Diner, Latham 76 Diner, Halfmoon Diner, Spa City Diner--all are carbon copies of the other...go to one, you go to them all. The food usually isn't half bad, and portions are often generous--but beware of food poisoning (I speak from actual personal experience).
I'd like to find a book someday, that this Davies fellow has written. It seems he's some kind of writer over across the big pond...I think. His blogs are quite engaging. His name sounds remarkably familar, but I don't recall ever reading anything by him...well now--I suppose it will come to me, eventually. Anyway, reading his blog, made me take a short stroll down a culinary memory lane--and I enjoyed it...but pork and beans, thick french fries, eggs sunny side up and thick slabs of bacon for breakfast? Hmmm...sounds...intriquing. Not as odd as some of the stuff the Dutch eat....chocolate sprinkles on bread for breakfast? Hard boiled eggs, not cooked eggs, too. But then again, the Dutch like mayonnaise ("sauce" they call it) on their French fries (chips), and put curry in their catsup...what does that tell you, ey?
Anyway, boring day at work. Tuesdays usually are. Not much trash on Tuesdays...and throwing out trash takes up probably a good 45 percent of my day--if not more. So Tuesdays, I usually dawdle around a lot--not 'cause I want to, but they (mgt.) don't need me in the casino, and there's only just so much you can do in the offices in the daytime, when people are working. Usually, I just sweep and vaccum and dust on Tuesdays...I have two offices that I don't do the rest of the week, just Tuesdays, but today I couldn't get in to clean the casino's security office, so that made my day drag out longer...and the folks in the racing office said not to bother vaccuming today...so
that dragged out my day even further...(sigh). It was a lovely day, weatherwise, so I spent some of my "free" time sitting on the benches trackside, catching the warmth of a sun none of us were sure we would ever see again, watching the grooms excercising the horses around the track on their jog carts and the trainers in the bucket of their racing bikes, schooling at a good clip around the track. (Both workouts and racing are counterclockwise around the track in harness racing, slower gaits are done clockwise, so you have horses going in both directions on a busy day/night.) We were talking about a big chesnut horse that was really beautiful and going great guns around the track. One of the other workers asked, "Which one is that? They're all brown to me." I found that hilarious. (Standardbreds are mostly bay, brown or black. But there are also plenty of chesnuts, roans and greys.) Me and an office worker in the race office were talking about a certain driver. I like the man, but I take it he can have a bit of a temper, when he wants to. I told the lady in the office, how my friends mother calls this driver (like quite a few race drivers, he's kind of a hyperactive little guy) her "little butterfly." She laughed and said, "oh, he's a butterfly, alright. But he can sting like a bee." (Bit of a paraphase on Muhamad Aly (or
however you spell his name--the boxer, I mean).
I was tired when I got home. Think I got all of about an hour's sleep, last night. Had supper, fooled around a bit on this blog, wrote some more stuff into my short story, took out the garbage and went to bed for a long nap. My bad foot hurts like the devil. The break is indeed feeling better, and I'm actually just beginning to walk somewhat like a normal person again, and not like Festus from Gunsmoke. I was hoping to find someone with a VCR to charm into taping the Doctor Who marathon for me on Friday, but no luck. :( Am I EVER going to get to see an entire uninterrupted hour of DW? Guess not. At least, I'm not going to hold my breath or anything. Ah well, I can maybe catch some of it at work--never seen several episodes at all, and never the first one, "Rose," and only bits and pieces of a few others, five or ten minutes snatched on the sly at great risk to my employment, I may add, from TV's in the offices. Think the only episode I saw the whole way through, so far (kind of, anyway) was part one of the Unknown Child. Of course, seeing DW on Friday all hinges on whether or not the Yankees or Mets are playing or wheter there's some sports playoff...the guys totally hog the employee lounge TV set when it comes to sports--but many of the men around here are pigs, anyway, so no surprise there. But I have to be careful not to get caught watching TV in the offices..even though I do actually work while watching...don't just lean on a desk staring at the screen, honest. I managed to see the famous naked Captain Jack scene and the flying Daleks this way. But, I don't want to become so obsessed with the show out of my longing and boredom, that I really do lose my job--how lame would that be, losing your job over a TV show? A great TV show, but still, not a wonderful thing to show up on a prospective new employers inquiry.."why was she sacked?" "We caught her watching Daleks." No, I don't think so. Though, that would be one of the more...
unique reasons for losing one's job, in history.
Well, suppose I'm just rattling on now. But, since less than a dozen people a week read this, I'm not going to worry about my writing or my writing style, or about talking about nothing special...it's something that makes me feel less isolated and helps aleviate the boredom, so who cares if this blog is hopeless boring. I like it that way...it's....
me.
Quote for the day:
"Bore: A person who talks when you wish him to listen."--From
: The Devil's Dictionary by Ambrose Bierce.
