Netflix

I finally decided to sign up for Netflix as I am tired of watching broadcast channels that don't always come in - thank you digital television for being so crappy!

As I stated in an earlier post regarding my trial period of Netflix, I am pleased with how very easy it is to use. (I think even my parents could do it, however, I am not going to suggest it for my own sanity!) Anyway, the wife and I watched a movies in her laptop and she was somewhat impressed with the fact that we could choose from so many different movies and television shows. (I am impressed with my choices of documentaries, not so much the wife, though.) After we watched her choice, I watched a PBS documentary on Machu Picchu and Fargo. Three "rentals" in one night and I never even left the couch! Knowing that there are so many more choices than just movies makes it worth the $9 a month, at least for me; the wife is still undecided.

The only thing I feel is missing is the ability to make a playlist, not just a Queue List. I would love to be able to make a list of similar themed movies or documentaries, even just when I find something I might want to watch, I can come back to it verses having to scan all the options each time I want something "different". Is it that big of a deal? No, not really as I can just make a note on my Touch and be on my way! I'll deal and it is in no way going to turn me away from Netflix anytime soon!

So, again, if there is anyone considering Netflix give the Free Month Trial a go and you will soon find that $9 is peanuts for the convenience and ease of use!

Crappy Sleep

Lately I have been sleeping even more crappy than normal. I wake up constantly; probably every hour. I have been training myself to NOT look at the clock every time I awake as that just leads to more frustration and even less sleep. But I know it hasn't been long since I awoke last and all I want to do is just stay asleep!

Have I sought help? No.
Do I really want help? Not sure.
Am I crazy? Debatable.

I am thinking when I do fall asleep, I fall into a deep sleep as I have fantastic dreams and dreaming that intensely requires REM sleep. They are colorful, full of action, dialogue, people, smells, sounds. Sure, I could be so sleep deprived that they are in fact hallucinations, total delusions; or perhaps I am having a late onset of Schizophrenia, psychotic episodes?

Either way, I rather enjoy the places my mind takes me, the things that happen, the excitement, the humor, the wicked imagery that erupts from my imagination. Now, if I could just translate these experiences into words...

I am not so sure this crappier than normal crappy sleep phase is all bad. It doesn't interfere with living a productive, stable life. I hold down a decent job; work a part time job of my choice and dollar amount; am responsible in paying my mortgage; my wife hasn't wanted to commit me yet (I don't think anyway); I can think straight; I am not as irritable as one would think. So there is an up side, but I am not sure how much longer I can maintain such a schedule!

Oh well, life is short and reality is relative. And yes, there is always a story in there some where.

Getting Motivated....

I received an email from my lone follower Terry Towery in reference to my last post, in which I was wondering if I am really ready to write, or if my writing just sucks. Well, as Terry pointed out, I haven't really made a lot of friends in the blogger world by not following more, commenting more; simply interacting with others to get my work out there.

I knew I needed to do this, but it was a great kick in the pants to have someone so tactfully, yet straight forward, tell me the obvious! I felt rather silly this had to be pointed out to me, however, my online behavior has changed already! I have been commenting on some of my more favorite writer's sites, generating some open channels for dialogue.

That being said, I never expected to put my work out there and it magically generate super amounts of traffic. I knew this would take time, and that is fine. I am in no hurry. I haven't been posting comments for silly reasons like feeling as though I have nothing to offer even though a simple "Nice work!" would suffice to open the doors of reciprocation.

I am just beginning to develop the confidence to step forward, and perhaps I had been ready for some time now, but but haven't taken my writing efforts to the next level. Well, steps have been taken and as Yoda said: "Do, or Do Not. There is no try." Therefore, I must actually start doing!

Thanks again, Terry.


On a side note, I have noticed lately this blog has become more of a running journal than my original intention of Reviews & Opinions, so perhaps I will get back to that sooner rather than later!

I wonder...

As I have set the wheels of adventure in motion regarding my writing future, I wonder if perhaps I am not really ready. I have been posting writings for over a year to my Fiction blog, as well as on a few other sites and have not received much if any feedback. I am beginning to think there are really only a couple of reasons.

First, I don't actively promote my site or postings like most writers. For me, right now, getting these items out for people to even s be able to read was a huge first step. I have gotten better at believing in my self, but that is, and probably always will be, an ongoing process. Posting on other sites has been fun, I have read a lot of great stuff and gotten a small taste of what the writing world is doing online. There are tons of resources to get my name and work out there, but I have been more focused on actually having something to put out there.

Second, I am wondering if people are not commenting or reading my stuff because it is in fact really not that good at all. I know I wonder about this all the time, but I don't post something on other sites unless I really like it or am proud of it. I never post something just to get something posted. I feel that would undermine my efforts to become a good and solid writer. So please, feel free to comment!

I need to enter more contests, really heed what I will learn in upcoming workshops and classes; my motivation and commitment are there, but I also feel that any skills I lack can be learned and I am not one to shy away from learning.

Ramble...ramble...

Step Two

So, yesterday I took another step towards my writing career and set things in motion to audit a fiction writing class this fall. As employee of the university, we are entitled to audit one class per semester, fees and tution waved. Had I known four years ago, I'd probably have taken more advantage of the program.

I had to submit a sample of my writing to get special permisson to take the advanced course. Now, most people have a piece or two for such situations, however, I just have my stories, nothing I feel is really all that complete. So, I decided to browse my posts and see if there was something I liked enough to either finish or feel was finished enough. To my surprise I found many pieces that I not only could I use, but how much I enjoyed so many of the entires. There were a few that I couldn't believe I had written.

After my afternoon reading session I began to feel more confident in my decision to step things up and go for it, at least a little. Maybe I am having a some delusion of granduer, or inflated self worth, but in actuality I am just not beating myself down and giving myself a little credit, for once.

Crappy entry, but I am wiped.

Step One

The form is completed.
The check is signed.
The envelope is signed, sealed and soon to be delivered.
What am I talking about?
Well, I finally submitted my registration for the Iowa Summer Writing Festival!

I am very excited, but also very nervous. I hope I don't come away feeling like a fool, as though I wasted my time and money, but I am really trying to remain positive, look to learn as much as possible from the experience. The workshop size is limited to twelve so it should be a very interactive experience.

I decided to sign up for a short story workshop, to focus on getting the gist of a story down in fewer words as I feel I can have a tendency to ramble on at times; and not just when I write. I am looking forward to getting to work on several aspects of writing and develop a whole story during the workshop. I am not concerned about having ideas, but I am concerned about turning these ideas in to decent stories.

However, once again, I need to remind myself that this is exactly why I am participating in the workshop. I have heard so many great things about the Summer Writing Festival I know it will be a wonderful experience, and perhaps some day I will be an instructor for a workshop! Now how could I be more positive than that!

I guess I better get to work and go write some fiction!

A Doozie Of A Dream

So, I have posted a few weird dreams here in my blogs, and I have even turned a dream segment into a rough draft of a novel. However, last night, or maybe this morning, I had one of the strangest dreams I have ever had.

I won't go into great detail here as I am working it out as a short story, but suffice it to say it started off with me being captured by a serial killer, escaping with another victim from the trailer we are being held hostage in, but leaving two other victims behind, who end up being taken by the serial killer once I get away.

I awoke and was rather confused. As the day has gone on, details keep emerging, however, I have more questions than answers! Mostly, I wasn't sure why would I leave two people behind? Why would a serial killer live in a rather nice trailer park if he was torturing his victims? Why was I so calm, not afraid? Why was I wearing the same shorts I wore on my first day of First grade?

A any rate, there is a pretty cool story that I think I can whip up so I will work on that and get it out soon! There isn't a lot to do beside take my creative freedom and fill in the gaps!

Morning News

As I do every morning, I was reading the news, or what the media calls news, anyway. There are the expected political scandals, sex tape releases, the economy tanking here or over seas; you know, the usual "news". Perhaps not the best way to start the day, I suppose, but when you can edit out the extra and exaggerated drama, there is typically a shred of some news within most stories. Still, not the greatest start to the day, but I usually store the information away as fodder for some future fiction piece.

However, there are the stories that make you stop and take notice: children committing savage crimes; abductions and murders committed by seemingly average members of society that are heinous; the crimes committed by individuals who are successful, well-to-do, upper class members of society which seem to attract our attention even more. All of which make us wonder what exactly would cause such an individual to commit such a crime, what possible socioeconomical depravity fed their ill behavior, or in some cases you have to wonder if they are not simply mad.

I am fascinated by the human psyche, all the pitfalls and weaknesses we seem to continue to endure as we "evolve" in to a more enlightened version of ourselves; something better, more civilized than our ancestors. Well, at least that sounds really good and looks even better on paper. But to some extent it is true. We tend to hold ourselves in higher regard than we should, we idealize our grand intellectually driven consciousness, and only when such an heinous crime as a child's murder do we question if there is in fact something wrong with society.

Yet, I feel once we begin to address society's ills, we often, quickly turn our attention back on the individual who committed the crime and focus on what is wrong with them, giving society a free pass at times.

When Caylee went missing, we were frantic about pedophiles being released too soon from prison; yet, her own mother was the culprit. When Columbine happened, we looked at gun laws, school safety, Internet access and information, then we moved to the parents and then finally the boys who committed the crimes. Without doubt the responsibility falls on the boys who committed the crimes, but my point is that we focused on so many issues before we figured out there was something wrong with those boys, which, incidentally does reflect on society, as there were many warning signs.

While these are high profile cases, there are hundreds of similar stories, sometimes on the local level, that bring emotions to boil. In the past year, there were two horrible, unbelievable crimes committed by people I knew as acquaintances. Even though I had limited contact and interaction with these individuals, I immediately felt as thought there was something that I missed, or could have done to save the children that were murdered. Then I thought of the families that survived, the parents, the aunts and uncles, cousins and grandparents. I thought about their social network, their friends. Then, as I did with the stories above, I wondered if there was something people missed, something that should have warned someone that these individuals were headed for trouble; either harming themselves or someone else. I can't say if there were or not, but for one of the individuals there were signs for years, and most of us thought they were being addressed. Little did we know.

I keep coming back to that as a society, we are often so busy with trying to maintain that we can glaze over others warning signs. We have increased technology, television, and work hours to distract us, keep us away from our loved ones enough to not be able to pick up on the subtleties of their body language; their hints, silent cries for help. Perhaps our idealized society does indeed need some attention, and we all must begin to give that attention in our own homes.

This is not a simple solution, nor is there a nice and simple solution. It takes great effort to take care of our loved ones, day after day, but selflessness is not exactly a favored approach to life in our "me" driven society.

TV, Or Not TV...

Two nights ago I became very frustrated as no channels were coming in on the television; all I wanted was something decent to watch. Yes, we have an antenna trying to catch the last of what free television has to offer.

Anyway, I reached the point where I realized my leg was bouncing, my pulse had increased and my ears were burning; I was irritated, anxious. Usually I am only this irritable in large social situations due to anxiety, so I was a tad bit confused why I was so anxious sitting in my living room alone at eleven o'clock at night.

Curious, I turned off the television. I listened to the breeze rustle through the tree outside my window and just breathed. Five minutes later, my leg was not bouncing and I was no longer feeling so irritable or anxious. At first I didn't think that television could be the cause, maybe it was just a long day, I was tired or was coming down with something. I didn't think too long about the situation and headed to bed.

Wednesday night came and I wanted to watch American Idol. (Yes, I know, but Harry Connick, Jr. was on the show)

And as luck would have it, the reception was not good. I became irritated, anxious, my leg was bouncing; just like the previous night. Realizing the same feelings arising in me I reached for the remote as though I was reaching for a gun, pointed and shot the infrared beam across the room and silenced the television. The ticking of the clocks, a few creaks of the house, and the faint hum of tires rolling by sleepy little town. As the night before, five minutes later I was not so irritated, anxious, my leg stopped bouncing and I was breathing nice and relaxed.

Could it be? I mean, really? Was the television, the boob tube, idiot box, really causing me stress and not the surreal relaxation that we expect from such brilliant and cleaver production of repetitive and cliched commercials that are interrupted by segments of shows? This, this is... disturbing! Here I was thinking television was something to do when you don't feel like doing anything! But, I definitely didn't feel like doing anything, so what happened? Am I flawed? Was I not doing it right? Did I break it?

Probably not so much.

I knew there were shows that make me want to poke my eyes and ears out, but I was watching shows that I didn't mind so much or even liked. Now, don't get me wrong, I still off work due to injury and normally I work second shift, so I don't really watch a lot of television. I have followed series before, but I have seen more Friends, Seinfeld, Two and a Half Men and Raymond in the last two months than I ever did when the shows were on the air!

I decided to mediate on it, reflect on the feelings that arose both nights and I realized that I was irritated not by the television as much as I was irritated by my mind being stagnant; thoughts being suppressed or ignored. By sitting in silence I was able to "walk the dog"; let my mind be free for a while. I didn't realize an hour or two o television caused it to feel so pent up, but I have to say it is a lesson learned. I know I need a release, time to think, read, write, daydream; yet, I never would have guessed television would irritate me more than being at work for eight hours!

What is most fascinating about this whole experience is that I am even remotely surprised the television would have a negative effect on me! Silly me, I guess I am not as aware as I would like to be!

Yard Clippings In PLASTIC Bags?

I was out for a walk through West Branch on yet another beautiful Iowa spring afternoon when I came upon two people mowing a neighborhood lawn. I could tell by their peppiness and general conversation they were self employed. Gotta love entrepreneurship.

As I was thinking how great it was to see this man and woman working so hard for themselves, I was stopped in my tracks when the woman pulled the grass bag from the mower, reaches behind he back producing a black garbage bag and began putting the yard clippings into the bag!

Big deal? You see it all the time? What does it matter? Maybe I am being too sensitive? Sure, but let's look at what may have caused my "overreaction", shall we?

I can understand people like to bag their yard clippings. I can see when they stand on their front porch or look out the window admiring their yard they won't get any clippings stuck to their eyes. Wait, I guess I don't understand.

I do know too much excess of clippings cut and left on a yard can be damaging to the grass, cause dead spots leaving little windows of opportunity for weeds to sprout. Huh. Maybe I do understand. However, if properly maintained, the clippings can actually act as a natural weed killer as they fall in-between the grass blades, blocking sunlight from the weeds. Yep, I'm on the right track!

So, is it really necessary to bag your clippings? No, but to each their own. What causes me concern is what people do with these clippings, how they "dispose" of them.

When you bag your clippings, that being grass, something that would nurture and feed the very soil from which you cut it from in a PLASTIC garbage bag, you have done something rather, well, stupid. Garbage bags are PLASTIC, made from petroleum products. They do not degrade for hundreds, if not thousands of years!

What are their options? How else are they to dispose of such "heinous" waste? Well, there are many, like alternative yard waste bags, compost pile, mix them in with mulch or as mulch for a garden or flower bed, or just simply let the clippings fall back into the yard!

Iowa City has a program that uses bags made from recycled materials for yard waste; bags that actually biodegrade releasing the material back in to nature. Most communities have such programs and while the cost may be a little more than plastic, rest assured your clippings will not be in the land fill, still nestled in a plastic bag when your great-grandchildren die.

Creating a compost pile is another great ways to not only dispose of your clippings, but a great way to get relatively free fertilizer. Mix yard clippings with some dirt, occasional food waste, weeds and even small brush to generate rich, healthy fertilizer for your garden or flowers.

Depending on the size of your yard, you could use the clippings to stretch the effectiveness of existing mulch or even use it on its own as mulch. In a garden, place the clippings in piles in and around your plantings to help control weeds, or use in a flower bed for the same purpose.

And my favorite: let the clippings fall where they may. I don't like to weed my garden, so there is not much chance I will ever weed my lawn. Wait, maybe I should take my own advice and use the clippings in my wife's garden as it seems to grow more weeds than anything!

But it is also more than just that for me as I view my lawn is a wonder of nature, and I don't feel I need to have a perfectly manicured lawn to compensate for anything. I like to walk through my lawn, drive through my lawn when needed but mostly I enjoy it for the fact that is is not all just grass. I enjoy the tiny striped flowers, the bluebells and even the dandelions and the fact that my lawn is largely green.

Too often we try to control nature; when will we learn to live in harmony with nature?

Dreading the Return...

After my physical therapy appointment today, I realized I was beginning to feel like I am really making some improvement since surgery. I can actually bend my wrist quit a bit without wincing, or crying, and I can go longer with out my splint and be o.k. I even allowed myself to think that maybe there will not be any pain like I had before surgery after all. Maybe.

Then it hit me: If I am feeling better, then that means I have to go back to work soon. Crap. I am not excited to go back. There are several people I have missed talking to, but I don't miss the job or the hospital at all. That and there are a few people that are just morons that I could go without ever seeing again, but its mostly the fact that I just don't like my job.

Get over it, right? Right. See, the problem is that you don't need anything more than a high school diploma to have this job and I wonder if some of my coworkers even have that. I went to school for psychology and elementary education, wanted to be a Psychologist, a School Psychologist actually. However, my dreams fell apart and I have been floating career wise for over a decade. Yes, over a decade. So, I guess to some extent I am lost.

But then surgery came and allowed me to do computer work, write my little heart out and read all at my leisure. It has been a glorious ten weeks; ten weeks of complete rejuvenation, liberation and joy. I was allowed time to pursue writing that I just haven't had all that much time for due to two jobs, renovating our house, yard work, dishes, laundry, shoveling, etc., etc. These are not excuses, believe me, but rather I have put my need for artistic expression way down the list as I feel it is incredibly selfish for me to take time out to write, draw or paint. Ridiculous, I know.

However, surgery permitted me to see how important writing is to me, how much I need it for so many reasons other than to "get published" or "make a career" out of it; it is so much more to me. Money is not the end goal here, but I also understand that if I am any good it will follow at some point. Well, at least I think that maybe what happens, but I tend not to think about that too much, or too often.

And now I am faced with heading back to a job that requires almost no thought on a daily basis, no real effort other than maintaining my sanity as the minutes creep by, almost standing still. I am not looking forward to the return of the mentality of feeling like such a huge underachiever, again. I think I was beginning to come to terms with that, but oh well, I guess.

Damn it.

I am not giving up. That is not an option.

Surprising Myself

Late last week, I was looking over a few posts I placed on HubPages.com and found it interesting that my writings that have to do with spirituality and Buddhist thought were well received, viewed more than I had expected. I began to think about my writing, my enjoyment in writing fiction, but also my efforts in non-fiction. I originally had begun to post non-fiction merely to write more, to get in the habit, the routine of setting aside time and getting to work. Maybe I need to rethink my goals, my dreams; maybe expand my horizons.

I allowed myself this freedom of thought and let it brood about my head as I love to do, and came up with the idea of writing a non-fiction work; perhaps a book. That's when the negative thoughts kicked in, as I had expected:

• A non-fiction book? Really?
  
• A non-fiction book from someone undecorated academically?
• Who do you think you are, thinking you can write a book, a non-fiction book, on such a diverse and detailed subject matter?
• Could someone who struggles as much as you do really think you could tell, advise anyone else on finding their path, their voice and the inner strength to allow themselves accept the freedom to think for themselves?
• What do you really have that would be new, or useful to anyone either beginning or on their journey? Anything?
  

Yeah. That's just the tip of the iceberg. However, I let the negative thoughts arise and accepted them as another perspective, my own inner Devil's Advocate. I can't say I didn't struggle with the shear volume of negative thoughts, but I did my best and even typed out some very basic notes in the midst of the storm on what I wanted to accomplish in a non-fiction work. What I produced surprised me a little, and helped calmed the Devil inside, allowing me to let the idea ferment even more over the last couple of days.

Tonight as I was watching something about Kilauea on PBS, I decided to see if I could generate chapter titles I could use as a guide, or a mini layout. Eight chapter titles emerged, slimming to seven, but something even better happened: I began to add notes to the chapter titles, beginning to build up my mini outline in to almost a full blown outline! I became optimistic about this project, thinking I might actually be able to pull it off, however, selling it to get published could be an entirely different beast. There is always self-publishing, I can't forget about all my options.

So, while there is a lot of work ahead of me I am excited by the idea. I have had a very trying, intense, and at times distressing journey thus far and I feel sharing my experiences and how I have been able to gain a more frequent centered self, and even have quick, fleeting moments of the closest thing I can call nirvana. It is a grand commitment and lot of work, at times seemingly impossible and at other times coming with little or no effort, but possible for all. It doesn't begin yesterday or tomorrow, all we truly have is this very moment; past and future are properly placed in correct perspective.

More notes on progress I am sure will follow on this "little" project.

Struggling With Meaninglessness

Today seems to be another day of struggle; a struggle against meaninglessness, the futility of existence, humanity's self inflated sense of importance, the possibility we are a fluke of randomness and our consciousness an even more of a remote fluke. These thoughts lead me to wonder why we are so needy for meaning, significance, divinity and why humanity as a while is so unwilling to accept as a mere possibility there is nothing beyond this existence.

As always, I tend to come up with more questions; not that I expect to find an answers anymore.

When I first had these thoughts, I was distraught. Not even my dependency on alcohol could numb the existential despair. I slept less than normal, found the daily grind almost unbearable, felt as though I was going out of my mind and anxiety over facing my mortality. I had already felt insignificant as an underachiever, not living up to any "real" standards, failed relationships and fledgling status as an outcast among my friends. I was in somewhat of a tailspin, trying to find answers, desperately seeking the "truth"; if there is such a thing.

These thoughts seem to take over on days like today when I set forth on a new project (in this case a non-fiction book). It is a mechanism of avoidance, avoidance of potential failure for the most part; a strange rite of passage. While there are very few projects I undertake that will have an impact on humanity, or anyone for that matter, I still fight against that little voice in my head screaming "WHAT'S THE POINT?"

Perhaps it's not such a little voice after all, but it is not overpowering either.

These days, however, I am more prepared. Knowing this mindset will arise, I have gotten better at allowing myself to be with the existential thoughts and feelings, slowly watching as they fade away, giving way to a calm that settles out of the emotional storm. It causes no more despair than running late, if not less as I have excepted that the existential view is a reality that has validity, and a very real possibility that it is in fact the correct view.

However, even of it this is the correct view, I am still here and have this existence to experience. The relevance of meaning is, well, meaningless. I have accepted, to some extent, that I will and must create my own meaning in life. Or, more accurately, I am free to determine what is meaningful to me.

Most people would recognize this as their "life's work", their "passion", and some their "destiny". Me, I think of it as liberation to live, the freedom to enjoy the wonder that nature sets forth, the leisure to write and the pleasure of simply being.

This may need some more development...