Level 43

I've turned 43, and while that it isn't a significant cultural milestone, the way turning 21 is, for example, I confess I like the way the number looks. It's not an age where I find myself pondering my own mortality. Rather, it is my father's recent health issues that more keenly mark the passing of time. 

He's in good spirits, he is still friendly and outgoing, but he has fallen a couple times now. And he was advised to get a pacemaker but he is not interested. Defiant, still. 

Around one's parents, I imagine we'll always feel like a child. At least I do. Especially when I raid the cupboards for snacks. 

He's not afraid of death, so that's comforting in its way. 

Defiant, still. 

Grape Jelly

I don't usually write in the morning because I'm a big ol' grump. I don't feel grumpy this morning. I got a new mattress (after a failed attempt to live like a monk and sleep on a mat) and it turns out I really like sleeping on actual beds. 

It's important to revisit information and check against any new data points. 

For breakfast, I think I will have a sandwich with crunchy peanut butter and grape jelly. I failed to buy bread at the grocery store yesterday (I got distracted by some vegan cashew-milk chocolate ice cream bars) and so my sandwich will either be on a hamburger bun or a tortilla. 

Maybe both. I see no problem with this. 

There's still some lingering divorce stuff I should probably explore today. Mostly bank stuff. 

After I figure out this sandwich situation, of course. One challenge at a time. 

*Update: I ate the ice cream bars for breakfast. 

vegan food

It's absolutely beautiful this morning. Is the kind of gorgeous that makes people suffer through the Dune-like conditions during the summer. 

Food smells good. The sound of them slaughtering tofu in the back is kind of disturbing though. 

Hallways

You may find yourself stuck in a building that seems to consist entirely of hallways. First of all, don't panic. There is only a moderate chance anything will hurt you, and you may even be able to make it out someday. 

Now, of course, you are going to panic. That's normal. But seriously, don't. Don't scream or shout; nobody who can help you is going to hear you. There are things that will hear you, but they are not going to help you. 

Do not run blindly down hallway after hallway, through corridors and passageways, up and down the galleries, concourses and antechambers. You will only tire yourself out and be unable to run when you really need to. 

There should be food and water here, somewhere. You need to move efficiently and steadily. Travel for ten minutes at a time. Stop. Listen. Move again. You'll either find it or you won't. Sleep when you need to. You'll startle awake. When you do, do not try to go back to sleep. Continue moving. 

If if IF you find a door, kick it open and then run and hide. See what comes out. 

If nothing comes out, wait some more. See if anything heard you kick the door open and tries to go in. 

There isn't much more to it. 

If you do this long enough, and get very luckily, you might get out. 

But don't bother telling anyone about what happened. They won't believe you. 

It's a beautiful morning. The rain is real rain; heavy rain that washes away the dust of the desert and the grime of the city. 

We'll all be clean, for a little while. 

chilly down

It's a beautiful day. Chilly for me, as it's about 65 degrees and I'm visibly shivering. Must...appear...stoic....

Wait why? I'm not ashamed at my body's remarkable ability to discharge heat. I'm adapted to ridiculously hot temperatures. 

It's great, for most of the year round these parts. 

I was listening to an Arctic explorer talk about the psychological toll that being alone and cold takes on you. 

When the very air is trying to suck the life from you. Shocks your entire body and while you're reeling, it sends polar bears at you. At least that's what I've heard. 

how to write

Step 1: Live your fucking life

  Step 1-A: Pay attention to everything. Learn how things work. How they fit together. Don't rely so much on your own point-of-view. You're just one character. Zoom out. Zoom in. What would a hero do? What would a villain do? The mentor? The sidekick? The love interest? Every few minutes, most people do something that reveals a little bit about their characters. Take notes. Every fragment won't be useful, but you won't know which ones aren't until you're dead, and then it won't really matter. Write to discover. We already have enough people telling us what they already know. Fiction is great for messy ideas; not everything has to be a clue, or a symbol, or a variation on a theme. Sometimes a character just wants a sandwich. All those moments when you can't think of a clever riposte are okay.  Everyone has those moments. Make a plan. Or don't. You'll probably be more successful if you do plan a little. You're building a world; don't condemn them to be trapped in your own head.