Everything is just so damn 19

In a startling turn of events God responds...

Seeing articles like this makes me want to stop writing fiction.

Real life is just so much more bizarre.

Science not-so-Fiction??

I promise you, I am still here!

I'm still getting settled in to my groove of homework and work and life in general. Loans came in yesterday, so food is no longer a problem.

A real post is sure to follow, but until then, check out this article.

http://news.yahoo.com/s/afp/20070918/sc_afp/peruhealthoffbeat;_ylt=Ag0lSEIaYCyPXPRlC0lBoNus0NUE

http://www.guardian.co.uk/space/article/0,,2171920,00.html

bubbling liquid? Mysterious Illness? end of the planet maybe?

and in other bizarre news:

A Nebraska Senator is suing god

I'd like to see the cops carry out this subpoena...

That's the senator. Is the halo of the fan on purpose?

Yes this is our crazy world. Slowly spiraling away from what we all thought is believable.

And they are mourning the loss of the Weekly World News...

Feeling checked out, or unshelved

Over the past week since I’ve been back at school, working the reference desk has felt more like a public library, and not the collegiate library that it is. We've been swamped with questions. The majority of which have involved things like "where's the bathroom?" "can I check out books here?" and "why is this (piece of technology) not working the way it is supposed to?"

The answer to the first is "around the corner." The second is "no." And the third is "Not a clue."

From time to time we get more interesting questions, but not usually.

It's endearing to be living this hectic again at work. It makes me miss all the absurdity and hijinx that comes with working my old job.

Problem with collegiate library is the cute girls. (I know. How chauvenistic can I be? Joy of being single). It tends to make me look uneducated, though, when they come up to ask a question (see one of the previous three) and I look at them, smile, and forget my name. And then I realize that no matter how I try, library science is not a good method for picking up women...

Which of course leads me to the next conclusion that "I'm way to busy to pick up women."

I'm working on a sort of essay rant about working at libraries, which examines the different type of people who work at libraries, Reference, Circulation, Acquisitions, etc. It's gonna be funny (at least I think so (but then again I get the sneaking suspicion that no one finds me as funny as I do)). I'll post a bit of that when I get it together.

School Week 2

I'm starting to wonder if scheduling an 8am shift at the library was such a good idea. In order to make it here on time I've got to leave my apartment (in Roger's Park, on the northern edge of the city) no later than 7am. Really, in order to have time to stop at Dunkin Donuts (which is just around the corner) to fuel up, I have to leave at about 6:45. For me that means waking up at 6 just barely gives me enough time to fly through a shower, shave, pack the bag, finish any last minute homework, and hop on a train. Then I sit for an hour.

We're starting to scout out locations for the diner. On Sunday Mike, Andrew (his director of photography) and I went to this diner near the White Sox's Cominskey Park. It was the closest thing I've seen to the diner I have imagined. Has the counter, and the kitchen divided by a high bar. The corner enterance was perfect, and the exterior (while not the single story trailer I had in mind) was gorgeous. The inside was not quite it. Too much wood, too many soft tones of browns and pinks. The diner both Mike and I imagine is far more sterile. Gritty. Colder bluer tones. And a little smaller. It has to look as though it could be run by only two guys, a waiter and a cook.

The diner, which appears in many forms, in many of my stories, is fairly similar to the highway one that Edmund stops at. And, here's the creepy part, the waitress we had was the exact waitress I had imagined in my mind at the diner along the highway. It was very creepy.

My friend/mentor, Mort Castle, just got an editors position over at Doorways Magazine, a horror and fantasy journal. They have a winter issue coming out, and are accepting submissions. I'm working on preparing a horror piece based around this constantly perplexing (and very Eastern European pagan) tidbit on a lesser known helper of Santa Claus.

The Krampus is a demonic like helper who comes along with Santa Claus to take care of the kids on the naughty list. According to Austrian tradition, instead of coal, the naughty kids get whipped and even carried away. Krampuses (plural) are depicted as the iconic devil, or sometimes shaggy. I'm going to do a slight take on it, mixing with another of Santa's less jovial helpers, Knecht Ruprecht, or Black Peter. It just seems so perfect for this horrific but very applicable take on the Santa Claus legend.

Fresh Idea...

Had an idea strike me the other day while I was listening to The Ultra Lounge Christmas collection, and trying to explain to a friend the truth about LA. First the truth, and then the idea.

The truth about LA is that it's not a city. Well... It is a city, but not in the same sense that Chicago is a city, and definitely not in the same sense that New York is a city. This got brought up when I was explaining my choices in grad schools (UCLA, UW:Madison, and UofM). It is a well known fact, to those who know it well (10 points to the person who gets this reference), that I am very interested in not living in a city after I finish my bachelors at Columbia. So when talking about my choices for grad school people always cock an eyebrow to hear that I am interested in UCLA.

"Dude, Los Angeles? I thought you wanted to get out of the city," they'll say. And I'll nod and agree. To which they say, "Los Angeles is a city."

To which, I then reply, "kind of."

You see, Los Angeles is in fact only a small city (this always gets interesting looks). LA is in all actuality a sprawling suburb. The suburb. Suburbia. And it is a well known fact, to those who know it well, that I have a special place in my heart for suburbia.

So that is the truth about LA.

Now the idea.

The word suburbia was bouncing fervently around my cranium. And me, being a fan of fantasy, and mythology looked at that name and said to my self, "gee, Suburbia sure sounds like it could be the name of a fantasy world." So there you have it folks. Brand new idea.

The land of the Midwest. divided into 3 areas. Urbana (not like Illinois). Suburbia. Rural (the frontier). More to come

The Beginning Of The End (somewhat..)

Holy cow!

The end of summer break got away from me! I get semi-busy (or just too lazy to log on and post) and then I turn around and here I am already through week one of school! Crazy!!

The rest of the roadtrip was excellent!

We made it up to Wisconsin, went water skiing and minigolfing. We went to dinner at the Olive Garden and watched the Departed. Then we went to Madison for a day, and then the Dave Concerts. For the whole previous week it had been raining torrential downpours on Wisconsin and other portions of the midwest (finally making up for that drought we'd been hit with earlier in the year). The Friday before the concert Alpine played host to a Rage Against The Machine and Queens of the Stoneage concert. Rage Fans+Torrential Downpour+Outdoor venue... You do the math. Suffice it to say that things were muddy... But no worries. James and I managed to stay high and dry.

That sunday at 12am after the concert I had to make a mad cross-country dash from East Troy, Wisconsin all the way back to Haslett, Michigan, in order to get James to class on time. As planned I rolled into home at 7AM on the dot. There was only one brief incident behind the wheel of the car when I woke up as we were plunging off the road into a ditch. I managed to save us, caffinate heavily, and continue onward. (which reminds me that I need to pay a toll that I still owe...)

Now I'm back in Chicago, beginning my last year at Columbia College (YAY ME!). This, in and of itself, proposes a whole new series of problems and questions which I am starting to answer. Namely that of Grad School. Where am I going to go? I'm down to three major choices. UCLA, UW Madison, and UofM. I don't want to elaborate right now on this (seeing as I need to do some more research and soul searching) but the idea is there. Any and all opinions are welcome.

In terms of writing (the major focus of this blog (supposedly)) I'm starting to make some serious headway in the rider's story. I sat down the other day and worked the kinks out of the story (sort of). While I am refusing to tie down any major plot line (instead let it find its own way) I have figured out some major vibe directions that I want it to go to. While at home I debated and chatted with my writerly friend, Duke, the story, and some vague long term goals. He convinced me that I should look into doing it as a trilogy, and, in order to drive the pace of the book, I should figure out the vibe of the book, the mood, and some major storytelling techniques that will be employed. That will allow me the freedom to have the story be its own exciting self, while allowing it to actually have some semblence of direction. So yesterday I sat down with pen in hand and hammered out the major mood direction for each book of the trilogy (thinking trilogy now, debating maybe longer if necessary). Things came together. Now I just have to write the damn things...

Anywhoo I'm back on the reference desk at the library, and I need to look productive