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| 8:56 p.m.-2003-10-19 Well, as a warmup for NaNoWriMo, I�ve decided that I will start timing myself to see how much I can write. I�m going to start off at 15 minutes and work my way up to a solid hour of writing without actually stopping to go back and do more than edit for misspelling. That�s what a spell checker is for! Anyhow, it�s been really slim pickings of late to write for. My life and boring times, to steal a phrase from one of my Diaryland favorites. Moments of note, of late include my guts hating me, and the feeling being mutual. This summer, my intestinal fortitude was fairly good, and I didn�t have too much trouble. Come the begining of fall and suddenly, my GI tract thinks I�m public enemy number one. Or Numbah One, as I�ve been watching too damn much Kids Next Door of late. If it�s not my colon hating me (TMI, I know!) it�s my esophagus. Can you say hiatal hernia? I knew you could. I wish I couldn�t. There�s a fix for it, but I don�t think I want to go through it, as it�s an �in office� procedure that involves sticking a 32 inch steel tube down my throat while I�m under local anasthetic. Um. No. Thanks. Really. And then there�s the heartburn, the easily upset stomach, my belly coredumping stuff that�s not yet fully digested onto my unsuspecting small intestine. Oh joy! Oh whee! Anyhow, I digress and I doubt you wanted to hear about my digestion troubles, anyhow. It�s a sad side effect from having worked with the elderly for 5 years, then going into pharmacy. Nothing is sacred...or private. Talked to my mom today. Now, you have to understand, my mom and I get on like gasoline and a match. We always have. Mom and I just don�t always like each other, and we rarely see eye to eye. When I told her I was gay, way back in 97, we didn�t talk again for a good 3 years. And now I might talk to her 3 times a year, but she really bailed us out when we had to move unexpectedly in June of this year, so I must count my blessings, and call my mother occasionally. Really. She used to be like Mommie Dearest, only not so glamorous. If I wanted an argument, I�d call her. But lately, she�s been trying to see eye to eye with me, so I suppose it�s in my best interest to talk to her more often myself. Anyhow, what precipitated this was that she keeps insisting she wants to come out and visit me. Mom doesn�t travel well, or often, so this surprised me and has until now filled me with a sense of dread and horror. I mean, what do you do if you have a fight with your mother and she�s staying on your couch? Right. Not a good scenario. Anyway, the other half and I came to a bright idea, if I do say so myself. We are going to Disneyland next year, at Christmas. I thought, hey. What better way to meet my nephew than to take the kid to Disneyland? And she actually...agreed. Well, as much as she could. Turns out his mom, my little sister, has gone agoraphobic sort of, and refuses to travel any further away from home than the local church in the next town over. It�s gotten worse since she had a bad car wreck a year and a half before the nephew was born. So now it�s dependant on whether or not my mom can talk my sister into going on a plane long enough to get to LA. And if that fails, maybe we�ll be able to talk her into letting my mom and dad take the nephew with them even if she won�t go herself. Well, I�ve got a whole year to wear her down. Maybe it�ll work. I hope so. Wow. I�m only ten minutes in and I can�t think of more to type, and I�ve typed almost non stop since I started. I wonder how many words per minute that is. I wonder how many words per hour that�ll be. Hell, I wonder what I�ll write about to begin with! I�ve considered high fantasy (pretty much a foregone conclusion, really), or maybe a murder mystery with a twist, or heck, I dunno. I considered doing an autobiography, but I doubt that anyone wants to read 175 pages of �How Bad My Life Sucks� in one sitting, if they can just come look at this page occasionally and find out. You know, speaking of that, I have a fear of travelling too, but it�s not as bad as my sister�s. You see, back in March of this year, I was rushing to try to get to work to a manditory meeting, and I was crossing the street legally (I had the light) at a fast clip to try and catch the bus, which was early. Some asswipe talking on his cellphone decided to do a California stop and didn�t even see me. I looked up, saw the car, thought �Shit, I�m dead�, and then I don�t know what possessed me. I lept STRAIGHT up into the air, and landed on the car�s hood instead. I got thrown about 12-15 feet, and landed on my side on the pavement. Then I got up, realized I was NOT dead, and picked myself and walked calmly to the bus. I was fine. I wasn�t hurt, though I was bruised up. I had to make the meeting, and I was in the middle of nowhere at the time, so couldn�t�ve called my workplace to let them know why I was late. I�m not sure they would�ve believed me anyway. I went upstairs to the doctor�s office after the meeting, and she agreed. I was bruised up, but not hurt. But I was shook up, and now, I can�t make myself cross the street without getting a flutter in my stomach and a sweat breaking out on my brow. It�s sad. Very sad. Makes going to lunch a real challenge, most days. But I have to admit, if anything ever confirmed that feeling that SOMEONE must be looking out for me, making sure I can be around for the other half...that incident gave me some sort of faith. The cabin-boy needs me around a while longer. And to think I�d been so upset over something just a few days before, I�d considered the great beyond as an option. That was one hell of a wakeup call, if you ask me! Weighing in at 1110 words 15 minutes, The Captain
 The Internet's Mood: The Captain Recommends Dogcessorize 2006-08-13 - Movie Review: Monster House 2006-08-07 - Movie Review: The Descent 2006-06-09 - Movie Review: The Omen 2006-06-03 - She's here, She's here! 2006-05-22 - Blame the Cabin-Boy for playing 50 questions.
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