March Sweeps - Day 424

It's the last day of the month, and I guess that should make me all introspective (or retrospective).  Sure, I could've done better in the month of March, as far as my goals went, but I could also have done a hell of a lot worse.  Keep that in mind, the next time you set goals that seem smart one day and seem supremely dumb a few days later.

At the library now.  I need to write, but I just don't want to.  Having finished another project, my options are either: 1) Make revisions on that project (which I did yesterday), 2) Pick up a story in progress and work on that, or 3) Start on a brand new project.

I guess there's always the fourth option of 4) Surf the internet instead.

The sky's the limit in what I could do next, but instead of being freeing, it feels like a bit of a high-pressure decision, because I have to do it right now, or I've come to the library for nothing.

Sit-ups Today: 100
Sit-ups In March: 3279

My mom gave me this thing last Christmas (gosh, it might have been Christmas 2019, but I found it in January 2021) that you're supposed to put in your wallet to prevent evildoers from stealing your identity.  I don't know if it works or not, but I put it in my wallet so I didn't have to feel guilty that my mom got me something and I never used it.

The problem is, every time I go into a Walgreens now, I set the alarm off at the door.  Usually I will chuckle and wave, because all heads turn in my direction, and I've never had anyone give me a hard time since I'm coming INTO the store instead of exiting it.*

But today, I went to Walgreens, beeped coming in, and then needed to hit the restroom at the back of the store (it's complicated**), and as I went back there, the alarm went off again.  In my paranoia, I was worried that the employees of the store would think I was a shoplifter, and that I was back there, I dunno, shoving double-A batteries into my socks and bottles of Tylenol into my pants (I can fit quite a few of them in there, if you were curious).  They'd either come into the bathroom while I was "Hangin' With Mister Cooper," so to speak, or they'd be waiting outside the doors for me to come out, catching me red-handed.

I saw a single employee (a twenty-something male who looked suspiciously like the Skinny Chandler I talked about in yesterday's blog post) give me the eye when I came out (often, they'll say, "Can I help you?" which is what people in retail are trained to do when they encounter a potential shoplifter.  The theory is that a thief will be hesitant to steal after interacting with an employee because they feel they could be identified or remembered.  I'm not sure if it works, but I had the same training as OxyCodonMatthewPerry), but there was no confrontation, and when I exited the store itself . . . the alarm did NOT go off.

This happens a lot, but I've never felt it worth mentioning (shoot, I still don't . . . but I just Do Not Want To Write).  

I'm not sure why I'm telling you this, except it does make me want to write a story where Lara Demming curses one of her classmates to set off the theft alarm of every store he goes into, just to teach him a lesson.

That reminds me: I was thinking of coming up with a word that Old Widow Holcomb uses in the "Lara" stories that refer to the people around them, those who don't have magical abilities or are aware of witches, kind of like JK Rolling used "muggles" to refer to . . . um, those who don't have magical abilities or are aware of wizards and witches.  Whoops.

Gosh, what was the awful word they used in the prequel films to refer to-- Nomajes, that's what it was.  Gross.

Anyway, I just thought it would be fun if Holcomb had a word like "gentiles" to refer to Lara's classmates, the people that she consider beneath her, maybe like carnival folk refer to "rubes."  Honestly, I'm leaning toward "gentiles" right now, it's just such a delightful word with amusing (to me) connotations.  What do you think?

Push-ups Today: 154
Push-ups In March: 3215

So, I surprised myself by grabbing the abandoned Lara/Holcomb story I started at the beginning of February, in "honor" of Valentine's Day, and writing an exchange where Lara asks the witch about Valentine's Day in her childhood, and Holcomb tells about a boy she knew who loved her.  As far as Holcomb stories go, it's surprisingly light on blood-letting, and it was fun to imagine her as a thirteen or fourteen year old girl, going to a dance in town and chumming up to a boy that had nothing to offer her except his heart. 

I had Lara ask what happened to the boy, and Holcomb says he died in the war.  But which war would that be?  Are we talking World War II?  The Great War?  Something else?  I can't honestly remember if I ever came out and said how old Holcomb is, but I feel like I said she was just over a hundred.  But this Valentine's Day get-together feels like something that would've happened in the 1880s or '90s*** and I guess that means Holcomb is more like 139 years old.  

Does that work?

Words Today: 1497
Words In March: 28,219

*Yes, and because I'm white.  I'll say it so you don't have to.

**Basically, from time to time, the food and liquid I consume builds up inside my body and then, almost without warning, demands to be purged.  I wish it didn't happen, and I know it probably disgusts you (certainly it does me), but it hits me sometimes and I have to use the facilities of wherever I'm at.  Usually, it's over quickly, I will flush the toilet, wash my hands, and continue with my day.  Don't judge me too harshly please.
The weird thing is, I honestly have this hang-up about it, where I think, "I'm the only person that does this.  I'm a dirty, dirty little boy."  This is a thought that I have once or twice a week . . . EVERY WEEK for the past, I dunno, twenty or more years.  I should see a counsellor, but I'm sure he or she would discover that's just the tip of the mental health iceberg.

***I did check, to see if that dread holiday was celebrated back in those days--fully expecting that it was developed in the 20th century as another bloody Hallmark holiday . . . but no, it was a thing, even then.  It may be the worst day of the year for me, but it was a big deal even in the nineteenth century.

March Sweeps - Day 423

So, I was pretty pleased with myself for finishing that story/book yesterday (word count sits at just over 16,000 words, which means it'll probably stay a novelette instead of a novella, even when it's published (though I'll bet it'll hit more like 19,000 once I read it out loud and finesse it a little).  As promised, I sat down and looked at a list of insurance company slogans for titles, and found a couple that SORTA work, but none that jumped out at me as being The One.

Right now, I'm leaning toward calling it "The Company You Keep," which works, but one of the slogans, "Got You Under Our Wing" could also fit (though the word "our" instead of "my" probably disqualifies that one).

Sit-ups Today: 100
Sit-ups In March: 3179

Unfortunately, today has not been a day for writing.  I didn't make it to the library, but went down south to help my aunt clear out her storage unit (we loaded it up last year when she and her husband moved in down there, but the two of them did not do well down there, and have since divorced, and he cleared his things out last week, and today was her turn).  Among the things we moved were the world's heaviest couch (I remember moving it with my Uncle Len in Vegas and how it seemed to weigh five hundred pounds [probably only two hundred], and now my brother-in-law and I were sans Uncle Len).

I went for my run today, and yikes, it was one of the really hard ones.  About halfway through it, I thought, "This is the hardest run I've done," because I was gasping and wanting to sit down.  But then it occurred to me that this has to be FAR from the hardest run I've done, because the number of runs I cut short by a block or two, or simply turned and went home, would rate in the double digits.  And I did force myself to do the full run, with no stopping, even though my face still feels like it's burning, and even my hair is sweaty right now.

Push-ups Today: 80 (I blew it as far as how many I was supposed to do today.  Tomorrow?)
Push-ups In March: 3061

I got my last rollerblading session (on the lawn) in today.  That makes 10 out of 10.

I hung out with my cousin tonight, and we watched "Seinfeld" and "Falcon and the Winter Soldier" together.  We had been watching that "Superman and Lois" show a month ago, but he said something about being done with it, so I guess that's that.  Only took two episodes.  Well, that's more than I lasted with "Star Trek: Discovery" or "Mr. Mayor" or "Blue Bloods" or "Undeclared"--all shows I quit watching after the very first episode.

Little bit of trivia for you, though: I watched every single episode of "Cop Rock" that aired on ABC in 1990, so don't let me sway you one way or another.

I mentioned recently how hard it was to see what TV syndication has done to the series "Friends."  My nephew continues to watch it, and now he's reached Season 3, which a certain Rish Outfield once proclaimed to be The Worst Season Of "Friends."  It's the one where Monica is dating Jon Favreau, and Giovanni Ribisi and Debra Jo Rupp are wanting Phoebe to have their baby, and Chandler is . . . holy smoke, what happened to Chandler?  He looks like he weighs about ninety pounds on the show right now (I do remember him ballooning in weight and dropping it all, depending on what substance Matthew Perry was using at the time, but still, it was a shock to see Gaunt Chandler again)!

But hey, the worst season of "Friends" is probably better than the best season of "Home Improvement" or "Big Bang Theory," so there.

Fat Chandler:

Skinny Chandler:

Season One Chandler (Goldilocks Chandler):

I got very little writing done during the day, but I got home before two at night, so I made myself write a little bit before allowing myself to sleep.  It's not ideal, but it still counts.

Words Today: 705
Words In March: 26,722

March Sweeps - Day 422

Not much to say, not much to say.

At least the library is open late now.  I just got here, and normally, it would be closing in fifteen minutes.  But here I am, with time to kill.  Wouldn't it be refreshing if I used that time to write, got my words, then cleared out of here long before they started flashing the lights and banging on the intercom?

Sit-ups Today: 100
Sit-ups In March: 3079

Yesterday (or was it two days ago now?), I posted a super low-res copy of the poster for NOBODY, which was a pretty enjoyable movie.  There's something magnificent about the poster, though, about that image of Bob Odenkirk getting punched that I'd really like to replicate with myself.  If only I had friends who could help me set it up.

Of course, I could go to the pawn shop over at Center Street and State and call out "By the way, Biden won the election!" and I might get something similar, but who would think to take the picture?

It's absolutely silent here at the library right now.  It is downright scary.  I think the majority of students didn't know they'd be open this late, and all went home, so it seems like it's just me and the creepy homeless guy over there (I say homeless, but I don't know that that's what he is . . . he could be a ghost).

I've only got 82 words so far, but I'm really in the home stretch on this story.  If I forced myself, I could finish it right now.

Push-ups Today: 60
Push-ups In March: 2981

I heard that old Michael Jackson song "She's Out of My Life" today for the first time in, oh, years.  It never gets played on the radio (I heard it a couple of times while living in L.A., but never here), and it's always struck me as amazing and unappreciated (it's the one where Michael's voice cracks on the last line, in a moment you would think Quincy Jones would have cut out, but instead ends the song with*).  

It was the last single off "Off The Wall," in 1980, and the first I heard of it was Eddie Murphy mocking it (and Michael) in "Delirious," his first concert film.  To my horror, I discovered that it has been covered by Josh Groban . . . and no exaggeration, I would never be able to like the song again if I ever heard that version.

I was tempted, hearing it again after so long, to put it on my short list of songs to do in my Storage Unit series, but wow, I don't know if I can pull it off.  It takes a level of competence I may not possess, and probably a bit more pathos than I can currently muster.  I'll stick to writing stories about high school girls, thank you very much.

And speaking of which . . .

Well, I finished the story, right before eight-thirty.  I've no idea if it's good, but I sure like it.  I sure like the Lara Demming stories too.  Maybe if Abbie Hilton checks it out, and we ever speak again, she'll like it too.  Tomorrow, I get to move on to a new story, and probably come up with a title for this one.  Guess I've got to look at that website full of insurance company slogans again.  Weeeeee!

Words Today: 1856
Words In March: 26,017

*According to Jones, they did around ten takes, and Michael would break down in every single one.  Now while that sounds like bullshit (to me, anyway), it sure works for a story.

March Sweeps - Day 421

Last night, my cousin and I went to see NOBODY, the new action film starring Bob Odenkirk.

And that's mostly why I wanted to see it.  Odenkirk was a comedian for a long time, before I saw him on "Breaking Bad," in which he was pretty much the only comic relief character.  But then, with the "Better Call Saul" spin-off, he got to stretch those dramatic acting chops, and I became a fan. 

My cousin and I saw the trailer for the remake of DEATH WISH a few years ago, and it bummed me out because it starred Bruce Willis, and he just doesn't work as an ordinary, average man, the kind of guy that you'd never expect to go on a revenge killing spree.  But Odenkirk works.  He's the guy you'd never worry about scratching his car with your door in a parking lot, or calling the other f-word at a baseball game.

The film was a lot of fun, and seems to have done well enough (post-pandemically speaking) that they might do another one, like they did with JOHN WICK, which was very similar to this, though probably just a little more enjoyable.

Sit-ups Today: 100
Sit-ups In March: 2979

Push-ups Today: 153
Push-ups In March: 2921 (wow, I'm gonna have more than three thousand push-ups in March.  Not much for an Olympian or a Los Angeleno, but for me, pretty darn good)

I rode around the yard on rollerblades again, and nearly fell at one point--but didn't--and tried to rake up pine needles with the blades on, regardless of how silly I looked.  I mentioned early in the month that one of the rollerblades dug into my ankle a little, and that I should wear two pairs of socks whenever I put them on . . . but I forgot about that.  And it was no big deal the last couple of tries, but today, I really felt it, and when I bent down to pull my sock up, there was already a bloody raw bit on my ankle.  

And I think--I'm not sure, but I THINK--that anybody who rollerblades really well, or surfs competently, or the Bryan Adams song where he says he played guitar until his fingers bled, would say that you have to be willing to work so hard at it that you do come away bloody, and then do it again the next day.  To get good at something, you have to work your arse off on it, not show up like a tourist or only stick your toes in.  And darn it, I don't know that I want to rollerblade that much.

I knew somebody who was trying to learn to skateboard, and made an Instagram page where it was just uploads of falls and crashes and slips and balance-losings and shots of the board going one way and the human being going the other way.  And 

Rollerblading In March: 9 (of 10)

I got my usual last-Sunday-of-the-month work done and then rewarded myself by eating ice cream and watching "Saturday Night Live."*  I hadn't done any sit-ups or push-ups, and it seemed to take a really long time to get them in, whereas I actively (pun intended) enjoyed doing my run right as the sun was going down.  It was the first day of the year I went jogging with a short-sleeved shirt on.**

Afterward, I had to get some writing done, but I got a message from Gino Moretto in New Zealand.  He had been listening to my podcast with his son, and the son was actually interested in one of my stories.  We chatted for a minute, but it was one-thirty am for me and eight-thirty pm (or as he put it "half eight") for him.  That blows my mind.

I went in and did some writing as fast as I could, and I was surprised I managed as much as I did.

Words Today: 492
Words In March: 24,161

*It was a pretty bad episode, unfortunately.  I'd like to do a podcast sometime about what it would be like to be a writer on SNL.  Seems like it would be a really difficult job.  Coming up with something funny and new every week, and if it doesn't get laughs on the first day, you have to scrap it and write something else that does.  I've heard cast members talk about the pressure to get in sketches and make yourself stand out, and it's gotta be that way with the writers too, except the competition has to be worse, because the cast members are getting written FOR, versus the writers who are competing with other writers.

**I went running pretty much every single day this winter, and never once thought to wear gloves.  Instead, I'd just tuck my hands into my sleeves for half the run, then, when they were good and warm from the friction (sometimes sweaty), I'd let them out and the cold air would hit them like a refreshing fan.  Kind of remarkable, coming from somebody who hates the cold like I do.

Tales of eBay Horror 13: I Want A Refund

"It's another lost episode, Shorty!" 

This is a Season Two episode I shot in early 2019, but lost the audio to (the actual audio the camera picked up was mostly the sound of wind). But I found the audio in January, and well, here it is.

 

March Sweeps - Day 420

I did the darn rollerblade-across-the-backyard thing again today.  That's two days in a row.  And because it's the backyard, I don't have the fear of being seen and mocked, because it HAS to look ridiculous, me, an awkward, fat, middle-aged dork, trying to do a young person's thing, in a vain attempt to expand the shockingly-narrow parameters of his life.  

I thought that doing this over and over again in March would help get me over my fear--practically terror, at this point--of falling down on the pavement, but I'd bet any amount of money that it's done no good, and perhaps the opposite.  There was one time, last week or the week before, when I slid forward on the grass, and my body did lose its balance and try to topple me, but I caught myself and kept going.  

Sit-ups Today: 100
Sit-ups In March: 2879

I checked out an old Clint Eastwood movie from the library two weeks ago, and it was a hundred and fifty-five minutes (which is LOOOOONG).  I kept putting it on while I was working, despite hating it, and inching toward the ending, but never quite getting there (there was something Sisyphean about the task, as if the movie got longer every time I started it up again), and I called Big Anklevich when I found out how much more was left (at this point, only twenty minutes or so), and he said, "If you hate it so much, why don't you just stop watching it?"  I guess I had it in my head that it was a point of pride to get through to the end, despite loathing the movie and everything about it (well, almost everything--the stuntwork was good), but once Big gave me what I considered to be permission to turn it off, I took out the DVD and just let that darn rock roll to the bottom of the hill on its own.

I think the rollerblading may be the same thing.  Sure, I bought the skates, and sure, I bought the knee and wrist and elbow pads.  But that doesn't mean I HAVE to keep doing it.  If it scares me and I'm not any good at it, maybe I just have to accept that it's not for me and move on, despite the loftiness of my original goals.  It's like that time in L.A. when the Sony lawyer told me I'd never work in town again, and I resorted to pleasuring truckers at the gas station right off the 405 for rent money.  One of those dudes said, "If you do enough of it, you'll start to enjoy the taste of strange truck driver."

Rollerblading In March: 8 (of 10)

Push-ups Today: 50
Push-ups In March: 2768

I hit the library, right before it closed, and--even though you've heard me say this twenty times now--I started getting into my story just as they made the announcement that everyone had to leave.  But take heart, noble traveler, starting Monday, they'll be open until nine pm again, just like they were before the pandemic.  Not on Saturdays, though . . . because they dislike me.

I wish I could say that every time I go to the library and sit down to write, I get in a zone and start creating and the tapestry of the story reveals itself to me, but it doesn't.  There are times when I'd rather do anything but write, and even worse, there are days like today, when in the morning and afternoon, I thought about the story I'm currently writing, decided where I wanted it to go, and then did other things (not just work things, I'm talking about watching YouTube videos for two whole hours or driving to the mall and considering going in to kill half an hour despite having my laptop with me and the library closing in ninety minutes).  I could've been focused and got the work done--put that stuff that was in my head down on "paper"--but instead, I dorked around until it was almost too late.

And then I resent them when they kick people out.

Words Today: 1304
Words In March: 23,669

Rish Outcast 195: My Friend, Your Misery

Well, I've finally put out my 2018 book "My Friend of Misery." Now the real misery can begin.*

If you'd like to buy the text version, go HERE, and if you'd like to buy the audiobook, go HERE.  And if you'd like to go to hell, go HERE.

Download the episode by Right-Clicking HERE.

Support me on Patreon by Left-Clicking HERE.

Logo (and cover art) by Gino "Bell-end of Misery" Moretto.

*For you and for Jake From State Farm.

March Sweeps - Day 419

Oscar Wilde famously said, "To love oneself is the beginning of a lifelong romance."  I saw that today as part of a list of inspirational sayings . . . but knowing Wilde, he either meant it as a joke or meant it as a double-entendre.  Good for him.

I'm at the library again--with an hour before closing--for the first time in what seems like a while (I'm pretty sure I was here Tuesday, but not Wednesday, and yesterday, I came to the library, but was talking to Big on the phone, so I stayed in my car, and then just ended up writing there in the car once he'd hung up, since the library would close most likely as soon as I got into my writing).  But I'm here now, and if I can stop blogging and start writing, maybe I'll salvage something.*

I was talking about the pizza place the other day.  I started writing it a year back, not sure when the story would be set, but leaning toward the mid-Nineties.  As I got further into it, I decided it took place the summer of 1991 (which means poor Meeshelle would be nearing fifty in modern stories--instead of about thirty, but that will just have to be a plothole**), but never went back to earlier in the story and mentioned that Bush is President or cellphones don't exist (I know you think they did, but dude) or that gas is still less than a dollar a gallon.

But in looking it over this week, I discovered a reference to FORREST GUMP in the second chapter/section of the story, and recalled all too well that the film didn't come out until 1994.  So I racked my brain trying to come up with a substitution for Gump, because a character makes the reference to call another character dumb, and then there is a joke about Gump getting shot in the butt.  So first, I thought, Dan Quayle (our 1991 Vice-President) was regarded as dumb, and I made the switch, but couldn't come up with a joke (because the thing I remember Quayle being famous for was misspelling "potato").  So, I thought, "The Simpsons" was on in 1991, and Homer Simpson was dumb, so I made that switch.  But in 1991, Homer was less-than-brilliant, but he was still a well-meaning, simple guy.  He hadn't yet become a cartoon character.

So I thought, "Beavis & Butthead?"  But I think that was 1993 or so.  What movie character was dumb?  And I drew a blank.  Still am.

Finally, I picked--almost desperately--Bill and Ted, from BILL & TED'S EXCELLENT ADVENTURE, which I believe came out in '88, but it took me four seconds to see it was '89.  And the sequel was definitely 1991, so that would've been an appropriate reference that year.  Of course, I couldn't come up with a joke to follow it, not a butt one, anyway.  If you have any suggestions, I'd be happy to switch it out.

Not sure why I share stuff like this with you.

Sit-ups Today: 150
Sit-ups In March: 2779 (and sit-ups move ahead again!)

I was saddened to see that Larry McMurtry died today.  He was eighty-four.

Reading his book "Lonesome Dove" in 2005 was one of the seminal book experiences of my life.  I took the paperback to the various sets I was an extra on, and wept openly at the end.  Another extra approached me and said, "Jesus, what book was that you were reading?"  A little embarrassed, I showed it to him, and he said, "I want to read it too.  How much?"  I sold it to him for a dollar, and then was vexed when I discovered the way he kept his place while reading was not by a bookmark, or bending the corners, but by tearing out the pages as he read them, so he was always on the first page of the book.

That Christmas, I tracked down a hardcover copy of "Lonesome Dove" and gave it to my dad for Christmas, writing him a message on the inner cover.  I don't know if he ever read it, but when he died, it was one of the things that ended up in my pile.

If I live long enough, I'd love to read through that entire series again, and hopefully enjoy them as much as I did the first time through.

Also, I wrote "Birth of a Sidekick" in 2005, my first ever Western story.  There's little chance I would've written it without Larry McMurtry.  Thanks, man.

Push-ups Today: 152
Push-ups In March: 2718

I did the thing where I rollerblade in the backyard, on the grass (where it's safe) again today.  I set a goal for myself to go ten times around the lawn, and by the second time, I wanted to quit.  I think I've explained that the blades are uncomfortable on my feet, and they seem to be working muscles that I don't use while walking or running (which surprises the hell out of me, but maybe shouldn't because, despite doing push-ups every single day, which have actually changed the way my shoulders and chest look in the mirror, I have even less arm strength than I did a year or two years ago, as I slowly spiral toward geriatricity).  And while I have not fallen a single time since the last one I did on cement, I am virtually certain that this safe form of rollerblading is not preparing me for real rollerblading, any more than riding a tricycle prepares you for riding a bicycle without training wheels.***

But it is possible that I'll make my goal of ten for the month, if I don't let it slide again.  No pun intended.

Rollerblading In March: 7 (of 10)

Words Today: 1285
Words In March: 22,365

*Not that yesterday was a failure.  I got about eight hundred words in at the parking lot, then got another three or four hundred at night before I fell asleep, really trying to finish up this Lara story.

**You see, I don't feel fifty.  I feel too old to be going to high school, sure, but not the age my parents were just a few years back.  The characters in the "Dead & Breakfast" universe are young--except for Mrs. Bice--and that works well for people who'd work the desk at a small town hotel.  Mason is somewhat based on me, but he can't be my age and background, because then, whoa, he would seem like a giant loser, especially falling so hard for Natalie, who was probably born around the time "Seinfeld" went off the air.

***Although, if you really wanted to be a cheerleader, you could say that riding that tricycle built up your leg muscles with all the peddling, which can't help but help out on a real bike, and the "training wheels" rollerblading can't help but improve my ability to propel myself forward using only my calves and ankles.

March Sweeps - Day 418

It's so weird that, even though I've slowed down, I'm still writing and blogging daily, and I can look at my post from a year ago and see what it was I was working on, and go back there in my mind.  I wish I were faster at putting it out there, but it's an excruciatingly slow process, and I made the mistake of recording a bunch of Christmas stories at the end of 2020, that I had no motivation for editing once January hit, so it's pretty much five weeks or so of wasted work.*

Right now, I'm recording (about one or two chapters a week--which yes, is unforgivably slow) "Meet the New Clerk," which is the Dead & Breakfast story that introduces Meeshelle Lovett (who, yes, had been in two or three stories before then, but this is how these things work), and her interactions with the other previously-established characters.  I had never done a series like this before, where I finished a story and then started on a new one soon after (I'd usually write something not set in this world in between, but still, we're talking about eight or nine D&B stories written in about a year), and I'll admit I didn't really know what I was doing.

I talked about this junk last year around this time, but while writing "Meet the New Clerk," I wondered about Meeshelle's burn scars, and decided I'd like to explore how they happened, even if I never revealed that information in the stories I was currently writing.  I thought about the Little Caesar's Pizza story I had wanted to write for a decade, where two best friends work at a pizza place, a new girl is hired, and they both like her so much their friendship sort of falls apart.  I had never written it because, well, I didn't know how.  I don't often write stories without a supernatural element or a genre "hook," and this one had stymied me because I don't know how stories about relationships work (or, if I'm being honest, how real life relationships work).

But then I thought, "What if Meeshelle is one of the employees of the pizza place?  And what if this story works as her origin as well, a kind of prequel to the Dead & Breakfast tales, in which she was the desk clerk in the very first one?"  And that ended up being the hook that I needed.  I wrote the story, which I now call "Pizza Triangle," and I'm trying to piece it together to get in a presentable format.  It was one of those stories I wrote in fits and starts at various locations, like the library, or on my laptop, and trying to sort the scenes into the order in which they should go has been frustrating, since I've discovered gaps in the narrative, and one scene that, maddening, I wrote two different ways.

Ultimately, it's not a successful story.  I don't know how to write something like this, with day to day interactions between characters, that doesn't have Something Else also going on.  In the "Dead & Breakfast" stories, a lot of it is about the clerks and their relationships, but there are always ghosts on the periphery to go back to when I start to flounder.  With "Hatchling," which is about a relationship blossoming and then withering, at least I had the egg stuff to go back to every time I lost my way.  With something like "Pizza Triangle," all I have is the relationship stuff, and the characters of Brandon and Sanford (who are analogues of Big Anklevich and me) never really come to blows and toss their friendship on the ground, the way they would in a movie--they just become awkward around each other, and then poor Sanford screws himself over (like I said, he's based on me), and then the story's over.  

I didn't do a word count check on it because it's missing a section (I mentioned the other day that it copied-and-pasted in one gargantuan paragraph with no formatting, so I saved that bit--formatted and expanded--into its own file), but whatever it is, I'm sure it's way too long.

Sit-ups Today: 200
Sit-ups In March: 2629

I sat down over the last two days and played the recorded, edited audio of the two "A Lovely Singing Voice" chapters and single "Meet the New Clerk" chapter where I lost all the changes I put in the text version, because of crashes or system reboots.  There was a lot of new material there, and I went ahead and updated the "ALSV" text file on Amazon.  It shouldn't be surprising that I discovered a bunch of mouth sounds and two mistakes in just those three chapters that made it through the editing process, which is insufferably lengthy.  Like my blog?

And, as is always the case, there were lines and moments where I thought, "Dang, this just doesn't work," where I was tempted to not only make a couple of changes in the text (which I did), but sit down and re-record parts (in "Meet the New Clerk," there are bits where Meeshelle is talking to Natalie, and it's a male narrator doing the voices of two young female characters, and it didn't occur to me that you might not be able to tell which is Nat and which is Meesh.  Whoops).  But I just don't have the time to do it, let alone the free space on my SD card.

Speaking of which, I never did find the other one, which has all the recordings from December and January on it.  Which means that episodes of my podcast which should be hitting around now won't come out until I find it, and I have to put out newer, 2021 shows, if I want any episodes to come out at all.  Sigh.

Push-ups Today: 51 (my uncle was over and I told him I couldn't do a one-armed push-up, and he said, "Sure you can, watch."  He proceeded to do four of them, so I tried, and yes, I managed one, but then hit the floor and couldn't balance enough to do a second)
Push-ups In March: 2566

Words Today: 1241
Words In March: 21,080

*Otherwise, there would be more stories available to purchase or podcast, much like the stuff I recorded in January and February, which I could put out as soon as I finished recording or editing.

March Sweeps - Day 417

My ten year old nephew borrowed my phone "for a minute" today.  I think he wanted to use the flashlight feature or something*, but later, when I went to use the phone, I couldn't find it.  I asked him, who was playing video games with his friends, where my phone had gone, and he told me he had given it back to me.  So I started looking all over for it--in my room, in my unjustifiably cluttered work room (which could have a dead chimpanzee in it and I'd never notice it until it really started to stink), went through my pockets, and the couch cushions, and finally, I borrowed a phone and called myself.

I heard nothing in my room.  I went downstairs and called again.  I heard nothing.  How was this possible.  Oh, it was probably at the work computer, where I print my labels and put up listings.  But no, nothing there.  I called to my nephew, asking him if he would help me, but he was playing video games.

Finally, I went down to tell him my problem, and he pointed to the desk there, where my phone sat, its screen lit up, but making no sound.  I picked it up.  My nephew had Muted the phone when I was calling it, so he wouldn't be disturbed.

Sit-ups Today: 100
Sit-ups In March: 2429

I read online (it was one of those links to a site where, once you go there, you can read the first line in the first paragraph, but not more than that without subscribing) that every adult in my state can get the vaccine this week, and starting tomorrow, everyone sixteen and over.  That's interesting.  My mother asked me if I was going to get it, and I didn't know how to answer.  It's been recently enough that I had COVID that I figure I still have the antibodies, but I ought to get it, just to not be one of Those People.

But I haven't ran out there to get it (my cousin and his wife got it last week, and now I can go on the dark web and see where they are at all times due to the microchips that were implanted in their bodies), and I guess I'll do it once the wait times are down.  I dunno.  I'll see when Big Anklevich gets it in Texas, and maybe do mine around the same time.  

Push-ups Today: 151
Push-ups In March: 2516

In my writing, I'm nearing the home stretch on the Lara Demming story.  In it, she meets another girl at her school (Lara is a Sophomore and the new girl, Waverly, is a Senior) who is a witch, and Lara is at first delighted, but later vexed, by what this new friend seems to be capable of.  Lara keeps her own magical abilities a secret, since this takes place after a bunch of stories in which she uses magic to solve a problem and things don't end well.  

I didn't know how I wanted to end it, but I was leaning toward Waverly making some kind of bargain or some kind of enemy that she is incapable of dealing with on her own, and Lara is forced to step in and help out.  But dude, I went to high school (in some ways, never left), and I don't know how many encounters with organized crime, drug dealers, teachers who like to rape, angry truck drivers, corrupt cops, or devil worshipers these characters are likely to have.  The best I could come up with was some boy who is picked on by bullies, and his dealings with Waverly the Witch just make things worse for him.  

And I recognize, from an audience standpoint, that that doesn't make for compelling television.  No, there has to be high stakes drama and sex and sleazy violence for anybody to want to watch it (something I experienced every week while working on "Boston Public," where what happened just in this episode would be legendary for years to come had it happened at my school).  But that's not what I'm writing, or even want to write.  There's a reason I only make two or three bucks apiece on these stories, instead of Sanderson money.**

I do wonder, for those (few) who read the first two Lara and the Witch books (or "books," if you want to be pedantic), how many liked the first one, which was mostly about character interaction, and how many liked the second one, where there was a legitimate threat with a physical confrontation.  That second book is kind of an aberration, when you look at my plans for this series.  The vast majority of the stories are meant to be little vignettes, little intercourses between characters (not THAT kind of intercourse, though, unfortunately), and fun or sad or sweet or bitter lessons Lara Demming learns along the way.  Sure, I'll have evil magical threats show up every fifth story or so, but that stuff doesn't interest me, and the big action setpiece at the end of  "You're In Good Hands" was one-tenth of one sequence in the last episode of "WandaVision," which made me wonder why I'd even bother writing another one.

But like I said, I'm not writing for television, let alone a show so expensive, it makes "Game of Thrones" look like "I, Claudius."***  And I'm not writing epic novels, or epic anything.  

I need to stop thinking right now and do some push-ups or something. 

Words Today: 892
Words In March: 19,839

*I did later discover that he had recorded a video of his Pokemon cards and the Xbox, so I guess I know what he needed it for.

**Which reminds me, I picked up Brandon Sanderson's latest "Stormlight" book (to look, not to buy), and it was 1232 pages.  I don't even have words.

Because he used them all up, I'd wager.

***This stupid joke was based on something Big Anklevich told me, where he said that each episode of "WandaVision" cost twenty-five million dollars, rather than that the season of "WandaVision" cost twenty-five million dollars.  It was a simple mistake for him to make . . . except he wasn't wrong.  Each episode cost twenty-five million dollars.  So, the silly exaggeration I made above, which was originally, "a show so expensive it makes 'Star Trek: The Next Generation' look like 'I, Claudius,'"--both series with Patrick Stewart in them--turns out to be only barely over the top.  I mean, think about it--"Game of Thrones" had a hundred million dollar budget a season, for an hour-long show, whereas "WandaVision" had a two hundred million dollar budget . . . for a half-hour show.  But hey, it had neat theme songs for its phony sitcoms, so that explains it.

March Sweeps - Day 416

I mentioned my own laziness yesterday, and it was about a week ago that I overslept in the morning, and felt like a knob and a sloth for the rest of the day (perhaps the rare Scandinavian knobby sloth?).  You'll often see parents worrying about their children, how they'll turn out, whether they'll be productive members of society, and whether the offspring will exhibit their own worst qualities.  Ben Folds has a song he wrote for his son where he sings, "And you're so much, Like me . . . I'm sorry."

My nephew just turned thirteen, and I'll often find him asleep on the couch, usually with the TV on, but sometimes just there, sleeping the day away, at least until his friends come over to play video games or take him off to play at their houses.  Some days he sleeps three, four, five hours there on the couch.  It disturbs me.

I asked him to take a garbage can around yesterday three or four times, and my sister asked him two more times, finally resorting to screaming at him, and last night, he borrowed my phone charging cord, and when I asked him for it this afternoon, he said he'd get it, then he didn't.  He was watching "Friends," and I asked again, and he said he would, during the commercial, but when the ads started, he didn't go get it for me.  I asked a third time, and he said he would . . . later.

When my sister finally turned off the television and screamed at him to do what I said, he got up, crossed the room, and had my charger in my hand literally eight seconds later.  Not a tremendous amount of work had been required of the boy.

I guess it's because my life is now in the seventh inning stretch, I start thinking about the future and all.  I think about the mistakes I made and would hope that the younger generation--the people I care about anyway--don't make the same ones.  

Maybe you do too.  

Sit-ups Today: 100
Sit-ups In March: 2329

Push-ups Today: 66
Push-ups In March: 2365

Words Today: 660 (kind of matches the push-ups)
Words In March: 18,947

March Sweeps - Day 415

Today was incredibly busy for me.  I had more work to do than I usually do, or it was a regular day and I was just eleven times lazier than I usually am.  It came out to the same thing either way.

I didn't have time to do anything, not go to the library, not do my run, not to blog, not watch TV.  But I had to take the garbages around, so I put on my rollerblades again to push them around, and I did almost fall down at one point, which reminded me of just how terrified I am of using them on the concrete, even after all these tries.

Rollerblading In March: 6 (of 10)

 Sit-ups Today: 100
Sit-ups In March: 2229

This isn't a Tale of eBay Horror,* but it's a little irritating thing I'm going to say to keep myself from writing for two more minutes.  I've complained about Star Wars collectors, and how finicky and bitchy and entitled they are (and I'll continue to do so--they are the absolute worst**), but it's my understanding that that mindset affects Pop Vinyls and GI Joes and Transformers and Marvel and--if you can believe it--Power Rangers fans as well.  

I've gotten so tired of what are known as MOC collectors ("Mint On Card," meaning a package without any bends or scrapes or imperfections) that I now often deliberately open the first figure I find of something I'm going to sell, so I can sell them as loose/Used instead of packaged, which not only costs more to ship, but you have the NIB collectors ("New In Box," a synonym for MOC collectors) to deal with, and you have to find a box to ship them in.  Whereas, if I sell them loose, I have thousands of envelopes I've bought (in bulk) that save me hours and several headaches a year.***

Could I sell them for more if they were in absolutely pristine condition?  Of course.  But my entire beard would be white, instead of only little patches of it I'm constantly trying to hide, hoping I can still play a high schooler in a CW show.

So, over the weekend, I found some new figures, and the first thing I did was take them out of the box and take pictures of them loose, knowing that if you are one of those collectors that complains that one of the corners of the box is dented, you'll pass right by mine with no interest.  I'd like to only sell to people who will play with/display their figures from now on, even if it means I sell far fewer items.  

I put them up for sale, and the next day, I had an email from some douche who thought it would be helpful to send the following: "Those cost twenty dollars new at the store.  Your's are USED." 

That's it, not really worth blogging about, but hey, it kept me from writing for . . . oh dear, eighteen minutes.

Push-ups Today: 151
Push-ups In March: 2299

I did get some writing in at the end of the night--it was after one--on my "Lara and the Witch" story, and it's actually closing in on the end.  If I were as productive as I was this time last year, I'd have finished it by now, but today, I don't really know how the story's going to end.  Maybe if I had gone on my run, but I made my choice as to how to spend my time today (Marshal and I did a podcast together, so that's at least something), and I'll make sure to run tomorrow, see if I can't focus on that story and find out where it should end up.

You never know where your mind will go when you exercise, though.  Lots of times, whatever song I hear or vehicle or person or house I see influences where my mind goes.  And sometimes I'll just turn on a YouTube video and listen to it while I run, and then I'm thinking of nothing.  I guess you could say that about this blog as well.

Words Today: 795
Words In March: 18,287

*Though I did finish the next episode--only two years late!

***Sometimes it horrifies me when I'll hear a fanboy complain about THE LAST JEDI, all this time later.  But hey, bring up the Prequels with me sometime, and I'll still just let 'er rip.  Much like I did in the library the other day--they're still fumigating that section of the second floor.

***Case in point, I sold a Star Wars droid on Sunday, and haven't found a box to ship it in, so it just sits on my desk, until I can find the perfect box, probably pissing off the buyer.  But my only other option is to ship it in a big box, which means I have to find some kind of padding for it, and it will weigh more, which costs me more money to ship.

March Sweeps - Day 414

I sold something yesterday that I knew I didn't have, and did not look forward to going to the storage unit to look for it.  I've described the storage unit, haven't I?  Think of the ending shot of RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK . . . only with nothing of value tucked away in there.

Today was grey and miserable again, raining on and off, and I really wondered why I continue to walk the earth.  But I opened the door at the storage unit, sighed, and there was the item I was looking for, only buried in about a dozen Walmart bags.  Huh.

Sit-ups Today: 100
Sit-ups In March: 2129

I spent most of the day driving around, listening to an audiobook, hitting stores, just being on my own.  It's something I do about once every other month, and I suppose it's really sad, but until the cabin opens up, it's what I'm gonna do.  Shoot, then I'll have to start doing songs again, won't I?

Luckily, I'll still have songs from last year I haven't put out yet, by that time.

Push-ups Today: 66
Push-ups In March: 2148 (there's no way the sit-ups can catch up to the push-ups now, unless I start to really enjoy doing them throughout the day)

At the end of the night, I had been working for a while, but gotten no words in, and I had had a problem the day before trying to paste part of a story into the master document.  It came out like this:

Eli couldn't stop frowning."What's this Chewbacca thing?""Excuse me?" Sanford asked, a little too quickly."It's my understanding that you called a lady Chewbacca yesterday."Sanford shrugged."That was just a little joke.  I called everybody Chewbacca yesterday.""What?  Why?""Brandon said I wouldn't do it.  So I bet him a Coke that I could.""So, it wasn't just the lady that complained?  It was several people you called Chewbacca.""That's right, but not in a mean way.  Just, 'Have a nice day, Chewbacca!'  That sort of thing."

Basically, it took out all the formatting, so several pages looked like one gargantuan paragraph.  The library was closing, so I just kept the file open to look at later.

So tonight, I opened it again and tried to paste it into something new, hoping that it would fix it.  It didn't.  And I ended up going through and reformatting each line, which was a waste of time, sure, but I rewrote and added bits, and it ended up being a lengthy process that took up all the time I had to watch John Oliver, and record another chapter of my next audiobook.

Even so, if it makes my pizza story better--and it still counts as writing--then why not?

Words Today: 733
Words In March: 17,492

March Sweeps - Day 413

Today is cold and miserable, with the sky as grey as my soul, and rain that becomes sleet and then turns back to rain.  The gutters are filling up, and it's hard to be motivated to get out and run, or even go to the library before it closes.  But I will.

I made my painstaking, miserably-slow final pass on my "Tales of eBay Horror" video, and tried to save it.  I say "tried" because it said there was an error and stopped.  So I tried again, and a few minutes into it, the program crashed on me.  This happens literally every third time I do a video, so I just opened it again and hoped that I hadn't lost any data.

But I had.  So I had to open it from the last save point (which, fortunately, I had thought to do around eleven-thirty this morning), and try to export it again.  It gave me that same damned error, and I tried saving it to a different folder this time.  It SEEMED to be working, and when I left, it was at 38% saved.  Since they take so darn long, I often have these videos save and then go to sleep, because by the time I wake up, the render is done (or the error has shown up and I have to try again), so, we'll see.*

I've been at the library for half an hour now, and I've only managed eight words.  Whoops, I double-checked, and it's only five words.  And I was feeling depressed BEFORE.

Sit-ups Today: 100
Sit-ups In March: 2029

I accomplished very little at the library today, darn it.

I took a few minutes writing up an author's note for "Meet the New Clerk," the next D&B story I'm publishing (which, I suspect, I actually wrote after "The Last Friday In December," since it refers to events that happen in that story without going into detail, but that's not how it appears on my list), and that made me want to grab my Little Caesar's Pizza story and make sure Meeshelle's last name was Lovett in that too.**  It wasn't.

I then took five more minutes changing every instance of "Little Caesar's Pizza" to "Fat Ian's Pizza," and you know what, I'm counting that as writing words too.

The library closes an hour early on Saturdays, and today was no exception.  It sure seemed early today, as I managed little in the seventy minutes or so I had there.  But what else is new?

Words Today: 781
Words In March: 16,759

I fell asleep in front of the computer, not having done my push-ups for the night (I had already done sit-ups and my full run--despite it being seriously cold out, cold enough I was afraid all the rain would have frozen and I'd face-plant on the cement somewhere), and had to argue with myself about whether to drag myself off the bed and out of the room to do my push-ups.

Luckily, I also needed a drink of water, and used that as motivation to get myself up and out there.  My nephews had built a fort in the living room and were sleeping in there, but by two in the morning, they weren't about to notice me doing push-ups, which were hard when I was tired, but not nearly as hard as they had been in the past.  My uncle used to brag about being able to do two hundred, three hundred, a million push-ups, but doing a hundred and fifty is pretty darn significant for me.

Push-ups Today: 150
Push-ups In March: 2082

*It rendered fine.  Which is a bit of good news.

**Big Anklevich and I both worked at Little Caesar's when we were teenagers, and while I was fired by my manager in my second week, he made out with his.  We always wanted to write stories about working there, and Big actually achieved this, with a pretty cool story called "Little Caesar's Ghost," but it wasn't until 2020 that I sat down and wrote mine, which I'm considering calling "Pizza Triangle."

Storage Unit Serenade 44

I had to bump one of these I was editing, since it turned out to be incomplete, but I can't be on top of everything.  I'm not Sanderson, you know.

This is the only time I've ever done one of these when it was over a hundred degrees out. I think it'll be the only time.

Stats

Pre-Eighties Songs: 9
Eighties Songs: 14
Nineties Songs: 10
Aughts Songs: 4
Teens Songs: 7  

March Sweeps - Day 412

I have hundreds of open tabs on my laptop at any given time.  A lot of them are articles that I clicked on, meaning to read one day, but never got around to.  Several are free short stories published on e-zines that I want to read, but haven't (sometimes, when I'm at the cabin, miles from internet access, I get the time and inclination to read them, but can't open those tabs while I'm up there).  A couple are free image sites to presumably find cover art with, one day, when I publish something new (I guess I have "The One-Eyed Man Is King" I could put out there, or "Troubled Child," the story I wrote for Marshal Latham's podcast, but I hadn't really thought about putting them out there).  Some are links to the blog a girl I knew had in high school, when she was softer, and vulnerable, and inconceivably human.  Others are songs on YouTube that I was listening to, and left open to listen to again.  

One that I accidentally clicked on last night was the song "What They'll Say About Us" by Finneas.  It was a song I stumbled upon back in September or October, and listened to over and over and over again, meaning to record it as one of my storage unit songs.  But I never did, and eventually, I just forgot about it.  The song completely slipped from my recollection, despite how much it meant to me just a few short months ago.

I guess a lot of things are like that.  As I wind down this daily experiment, I'm super grateful that I had this time, caring so much about life and wanting things to change, that I actually addicted myself to exercise, blogging, and daily word count.  

Sit-ups Today: 100
Sit-ups In March: 1929

I meant to record another chapter last night and/or finished editing the video on my computer, but the editing went so slowly (I made two or three edits in a half an hour) that I just went to sleep instead.

Push-ups Today: 66
Push-ups In March: 1932

Whoops, I farted just now, here in the library.  I hadn't intended for it to be as loud as it was, but holy smeg, it was a resounding blast.  It was the kind of fart King Kong would be responsible for in a movie (maybe that really dumb one Dwayne Johnson did with the giant animals a couple of years back), and it knocked several magazines off the Periodicals shelf.  I'm a bit embarrassed, but not too much to type about it.

Maybe I undersold it, though.  This library is within walking distance of a religious school, and immediately after my outburst, I heard "Sancta Maria, Mater Dei, ora pro nobis peccatoribus . . ." coming from the Biography aisle.  Hmm.

Words Today: 1338
Words In March: 15,978

March Sweeps - Day 411

Did you see that picture I stuck in last night's post, of the ghost on the stairs?  I did an image search for that exact thing, and it was about the seventh picture to come up.

However, the eighth picture (done by the same people, in the same location), was far, far more disturbing, and I actually regretted having seen it so late at night.  

Now you've seen it too.  You're welcome.

Sit-ups Today: 100
Sit-ups In March: 1829

I accidentally closed the wrong file this morning, and lost the work I did last night before retiring.  This is fairly easily replaceable, because I was recording at the time, but it will take time I otherwise* could be using writing or sleeping or YouTubing or hiking or half-rollerblading.

Seems like there's a lot of that going around.

I was driving down the road toward the library in the afternoon, when I got it into my head that the day was warm enough (it was sixty-one degrees) to do my monthly hike today instead of on a weekend.  So I turned and headed back to the canyon I went to on the last day of February and turned back from with my tail betwixt my legs.  I got lost (of course) and had to ask my phone to guide me, and somehow I was more than a mile down the road from where I was supposed to be.

There were a few other cars in the parking lot, but I saw almost nobody there, unlike the other two times I'd been there.  I ended up encountering a couple of couples, one with a dog, one with a baby, one with just each other, but for the most part, I was alone.  Almost all of the snow was gone (maybe 94% of it was gone), and I had only brought the single long-sleeved shirt, but I wished I had brought less than that, because the warmth of the sun plus the physical exertion was enough to heat me up.

I also got thirsty, and when I got high enough that the little stream that goes right down the middle of the canyon had deep points, I took a drink or two.  At one point, I just stuck my face right in it, embracing my inner mountain man.

Drinking fountain.

There's a waterfall really close to the parking lot--half a mile, perhaps--and the first time I went up there, there were people giving rappelling lessons off of it.  This time, there was a huge ice formation at the bottom of the falls, but with a jagged five foot tall entrance in the ice, and to my surprise, there were still people with cords and climbing equipment going down the rock wall next to it.  I suppose that would be fun, if you had someone to do it with, but hey, most things are.

I kept looking for animals in the mountains around me, and tried to imagine seeing something terrifying--like a ten foot spider or angry wolves or Rosie O'Donnell with the power of Thor--coming down the side toward me, hungry for a hiker on his own.  Didn't see anything, though, except for a single butterfly that must have hatched too early, and will die the next time it freezes again.

I went up another half mile, almost reaching the point where the stream becomes a river, and you would have to walk over a fallen log last year to get across it.  But I hadn't seen people in a while, and didn't want to risk that (especially with how cold the water in that river would be right now). So I sat down, took a picture, then turned around and headed back.  And even though it took no exertion to descend the hill, it was much harder to not slip and slide on the rocks, just like it was last month when all of it was covered in snow. 

I did take a moment to explore the ice under the falls, and it made my pants, shirt, and shoes wet for the rest of the day, but it looked pretty neat.  I thought, if I kept the video short, I wouldn't have to upload it to YouTube and have the aspect ratio ruined.  But I guess I was wrong.

Just for fun, I jogged down the hill once it became the long straight stretch I struggled so much getting up back in February.  I don't know if I'll ever go there again, but I did get my hike in for this month.

Afterward, I stopped at the park down the hill where I took my laptop last year after the same hike, and re-wrote the Bryan Adams sketch I had lost in 2019--a sketch I've never decided what to do with (should I record it myself or ask somebody else to do the woman part with me?).  I sat on a table and wrote a bit more on the "Lara and the Witch" story I'm now nearly finished with, even though I don't know where it's going.  A couple of families with far too many children came to the park while I was there and ate their dinner near me, loudly talking, laughing, and complaining (they got shorted something called a cheese melt, despite having waited for half an hour for their food).

I guess I'm spoiled, having a library with a quiet floor I can come to whenever I feel like it.  I'm like the blind Korean man, or the homeless guy that comes here every single day, or the creepy Punk Rock-looking dude who refuses to wear a mask and once told me "I don't like to be told what to do!" for no reason.

Push-ups Today: 149
Push-ups In March: 1866

I grabbed a story at random to edit the audio of (I was editing it at the park until the families started to show up).  This one is called "The One-Eyed Man Is King," and it's quite terrible.  I had intended it to be one of those "bonus" stories in my audio collections (which, just like last month, and the month before, and the month before and the month before andthemonthbeforeand... is not going to get published in March), but in doing the editing, I am considering putting an episode out for it.  I don't release nearly the number of episodes I should, and when I do, it's getting rarer and rarer that I have a story to present.  

But this would be one I could do a show about, trying to figure out where the story goes wrong, and why it lost the contest I wrote it for.  In my head, the story is pretty good, but like "Know When To Walk Away," something didn't translate right from my brain to the pen.  Of course, I really like "Know When To Walk Away," despite its failings, and "One-Eyed Man" is another story.

Literally, I guess.

Words Today: 804
Words In March: 14,640

*Crap, that reminds me: the same think happened with the first chapter of "A Lovely Singing Voice" last year.  I never thought to retype it, even once I'd edited the audio.  More crap to do, one day.

March Sweeps - Day 410

Today is St. Patrick's Day.  I wonder if it's still okay to make fun of the Irish.*  My guess is that it is.

I didn't make it to the library yesterday, because I was too busy, but I made sure to get here today, right before six.  Hence, I am blogging instead of using the limited time I have to write.  Unfortunately, my computer decided it was time for an update, and it wasted just as much time updating who knows what, and restarting, while I sat and checked my email.

Unfortunately, the document I had been pasting all my words in yesterday disappeared (along with the back-up I keep of the day before--always useful if I have to count words every day), so there's no way to get a wholly accurate count of what I did yesterday.  I could spend ten minutes or so going through the paragraphs in my story and try to identify which bits were new and which were from the day before, but I'm not sure that's the best use of what little time remains.**

Here at the library, they have set up the lounge chairs where people can sit and read or study (or sleep, I assume), having had them all stacked up for the past year (when the library reopened on the first of June, they had gotten rid of the chairs to dissuade people from socializing or sitting close to each other)

Sit-ups Today: 100
Sit-ups In March: 1729

One of my goals in 2021 is to put out those two "lost" episodes of "Tales of eBay Horror" that I shot in 2019, but never released.  I am nearly done with one of them (just need to watch it through and maybe stick in a couple of pictures to better hide jump-cuts), but I had a VERY minor ToeH today myself.

I got a box of figures out from the basement a couple of weeks ago, and picked out the ones that I deemed most worthless to take to the toy trade they do every month at the used toy store in the capital.  I ended up trading not a single damned one, but on Sunday, I grabbed about twenty of them and took pictures, so I could put them up for sale throughout the week (five one day, seven the next, two the day after, etc.).

So, today I listed a 2004 Spider-man figure, one that I couldn't find many of on eBay, but had never been particularly valuable back in the day, and decided, because it included its stand, to list it for twenty-five bucks.  Within seconds, I got two messages (from two different people) about it.  The first one simply said, "What's wrong with it?"

The second one said, "This is a hundred doller figure you know." (sic)

But I had actually done my research before listing it--I'm not new to this: by looking at what the most recent ones had sold for, and that's how I got the $25 pricetag.  Out of curiosity, I did look at the ones that were currently available, and there was one for $99 (without the stand) and one for $109.99 Buy It Now (with the stand).  That seemed like a lot to me (I hope it does to you too), but I--

Wait a minute, where was mine?  Why hadn't mine shown up?

Oh, somebody had scooped it up, within three minutes of me listing it, and it was a different person than the two who had emailed me.  I guess it really was that valuable.  

Like I said, hardly a Tale of eBay Horror, but still, a bit sad that I could've made a lot of money for a figure that is, frankly, not at all impressive (at least the stand is cool).

Push-ups Today: 66
Push-ups In March: 1717

Tonight, even though I wanted to watch "Modern Family," or just YouTube, I made myself sit down and record the next chapter in "Meet the New Clerk."  This is the fourth one, where Meeshelle and Natalie get to know each other, and at the end, Meeshelle sees a figure standing at the top of the stairs leading up to the second floor.

And I gotta say . . . it really, really worked for me.  My arm hairs did a little dance when she saw the ghost, and then, when she was afraid to leave the employee lounge, in case it was waiting for her on the other side of the door, I got a little burst of spooked energy.  Now, I don't know that that bit will work for people reading/listening to the story, but if it made me jumpy--and I wrote it--then there's a good bet it will be effective for somebody else.

For years, I've wanted to have an intense argument in a move between a guy and a girl, all done in one take, and while they're having their little back and forth, a ghost (or zombie, or serial killer, or murderous child) appears in the distance behind them, and simply walks toward them, without being noticed or drawn attention to.  In my mind, it's the kind of thing where . . . one or two audience members see it as it appears, but more and more people notice it as the scene continues, and if I've adequately shot the scene, the tension gets super racked up as our heroes are oblivious to what's right there behind them.

Not that this is the same thing, but in a way, it is, since there's this image in my head of the three characters, and if you can just translate that into actual visuals, it works.  And same thing here, if the audience gets the same picture in their head as I've written it--or more importantly, narrated it.

Anyway, it garnered me a couple dozen more words, but also, was just as enjoyable as a "Modern Family" episode would've been.

Words Today: 816
Words In March: 13,836

*The dirty, dirty Irish.

**I was short on time yesterday, but I made myself sit and write at least four hundred words before I could go running or drink a soda or stick my feet in those torture devices with the wheels on them, and I remember passing up four hundred very easily, so it was around five hundred, I'd say.

March Sweeps - Day 409

I awoke this morning worried that I'd slept through my alarm again (although I had no alarm to go off yesterday, so I don't know if that qualifies).  It was grey and raining outside, but it could've been really early or really late.

I got up to check, and I had awakened nearly an hour early.  So, a responsible adult would say, "Since I overslept yesterday, this is my chance to make up for it, by rising extra early today."  But I didn't.

Sit-ups Today: 100
Sit-ups In March: 1629

The other day was my sister's birthday, and my immediate family all got together to celebrate.  My niece and her boyfriend brought over Cards Against Humanity, which I had heard of for years but never played.  It was almost shockingly vulgar, and I know my sister was embarrassed to have cards with the words "vagina," "smegma," "shit" and "Tucker Carlson" on them.*

It was really funny, and I was surprised that my niece and her boyfriend had played it so many times they knew all the cards by heart (I was also surprised my niece knew what smegma was).  I also found it interesting that who won each round depended on the sense of humor of each player, so that cards I'd have easily given the prize to were dismissed outright by my brother-in-law or niece's boyfriend.  Cathexis and I, creepily enough, turned out to have very similar senses of humor and tastes, which I ought to pity her for, but don't really.

At one point, my mother came over to the couch to find out what we were all laughing about.  And that, um, made the game a bit less . . . what's the word?

Oh, yes.  Fun.

Push-ups Today: 148
Push-ups In March: 1651

Once again, I stuck my rollerblades on and rolled around the backyard, getting a form of exercise, even if it's not going to help me really skate when (and if) I take it out on the road again.

Rollerblading In March: 5 (of 10)

As far as writing goes, if I were as dedicated to this as I was a year ago, I'd have finished my "Lara and the Witch" story (gosh, I've got to come up with a title for it, which might be pretty fun), and been halfway done with another one.  But hey, if I were as dedicated as I was two years ago, I would maybe be halfway through one of the stories I finished months ago, so there's that.

Words Today: 764
Words In March: 13,020

*Okay, that last one was a joke, but there was a card that had Rush Limbaugh on it.