Nothing to say

I haven't felt like writing anything, and it's been like hell pulling something out of my head to write about.

So why not write about not having anything to say?

Cuz I don't wanna.

I'll be myself again in a couple of days. Maybe I'll have something to talk about then. Or not.




That's all from where I sit.

--MorelaterZ--

Essay's done, but I still didn't get the answer to my question

My essay that is due Monday is done. It's probably not the best piece of work I've ever produced, but I still hope it gets a decent grade.

Except for one small problem...

My English Comp class requires essays to have in-text citations and a "works cited" page. The works cited page was no problem. The problem lies in how to cite two articles with the same title (no author listed). I found nothing in my textbook and nothing on a website my professor gave us in class that addresses this. So, I sent her an email to ask.

She writes back that she didn't know the answer, but would look it up and get back to me. As of tonight, she hasn't. Our class is the third of three English Comp I classes she teaches, and she had a lot of previous essays to grade. I'll turn it in as is, and hope what I did to differentiate between the two articles is enough.

But I'd still like to know the correct way to do it, if there is one.


That's all from where I sit.

--MorelaterZ--

If I'd known I'd be driving all over the damned Metro for this movie...

I'd have bought the damn thing at the first place I went to.

Or... "In Search of When the Levees Broke: A Requiem in Four Acts"

Yesterday, I called about three Blockbusters stores looking for this movie. I'm doing an extra credit paper in my English Comp class, and watching this movie during spring break is what I'm writing it on.

At the fourth store, in Del City, I found, I thought.

When I get there, turns out that they only had it for sale. I didn't want to buy it, just rent it. I asked them if they could call one of their nearby locations to see if they had it for rent.

The Blockbuster guy called a couple of places, and found it at a store in Oklahoma City. They agreed to hold a copy for me.

This place was just about 4 miles down SE 44th from where I was, so I drove over there. Babydoll behaved herself, and we got there and home okay.

So now I have until next Saturday to watch the movie... all four hours of it! It was a documentary on HBO last summer, and was surprised it was even on DVD.

I think I'll watch it Monday afternoon. I'll let you know how it was. After all, it's about the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. It's not going to be easy to watch. I wonder if this is going to be the video version of a book I've never been able to finish because I get so pissed off at the government's malaise about taking care of a "problem". Same thing with Hurricane Katrina. It took so much time for the federal government to respond, as if the Gulf Coast was unimportant.

I better stop. The subject of Hurricane Katrina and that moron living at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue still makes me mad.



That's all from where I sit.

--MorelaterZ--

This essay is kicking my ass...

It's not the subject or the writing of it that's giving me fits; it's the footnotes and parentheticals that is driving me up the proverbial wall.

When I write, usually I have a pretty good idea of what I'm writing, that it's all coming out of my imagination or my experience. I haven't written a true essay since high school, and I sure as hell don't remember having to do MLA styling. Footnotes, yes. That's a piece of cake once I remember it, but to cite a source in the body of the essay is something I don't recall ever having to do before.

I've become rather intimate with my text book, The College Writer, and as sure as I sit here, I'll know MLA styling backward, forwards, and as well as I know the various adventures of Dirk Pitt.

(Okay, to be fair, I've had nearly three decades reading Clive Cussler's Dirk Pitt novels. I don't have that long to become one with MLA.)

I have the first draft written, but not yet typed. It will be typed by the time class starts tomorrow. I have a couple more things to do before then.


That's all from where I sit.

--MorelaterZ--

Why I'm not doing NaNoWriMo this year, apartment hunting, and Babydoll

NaNoWriMo: I had already decided not to participate this year due to my not having my computer in Wyoming with me. Since I'm back in OKC, I've got so many things going on now, that I just don't have the time to write anything. Usually, I would have had a clue as to write about by this time, but I don't. And, it's probably more important to find a place to live and a job, than it is to attempt to write 50k words in 30 days.

I'm taking the year off to collect myself and get things back on an even keel. In retrospect, I should have taken last year off, too. I was busy with finishing up broadcasting school, then Daniel got appendicitis, and the novel I wrote last year was not my best work. I barely got to the 50k mark.

Let's see where I am next spring before I decide to participate in 07.
===

Tori drove me around on Friday to see apartments in MWC and Del City. The first place in MWC was nice. I was shown a couple really nice ones, a one and a two bedroom. The one bedroom was cozy (read: small), and could very easily meet my needs since it will just be me living there. And the gal who showed me around was very nice.

The second one I saw was okay, but the gal who showed me the one bedroom there was a bit standoffish, like she had better things to do than show me an apartment.

We then went to Sonic near Tori's house because Joey had speech therapy at 1:30pm. Scott tagged along because Memorial was having conferences on Friday, so there was no school. Then we dropped Joey off at the elementary school and Tori took me and Scott back to her house while she went back to the school to pick up Joey.

Scott was doing homework, so he stayed home and awaited Marc and Amalia's return from school. Tori debated leaving Joey with Scott, but decided to take him with us, in the hope that he would fall asleep in the car as we drove to Del City to see the last apartment I wanted to check out.

Of course, he didn't.

We kinda got lost on the way to the last place. Tori got disoriented and we ended up going in a big circle, but we finally found it. She asked me how I knew my way around Del City so well (she kept asking me where Sunnylane was, and it was away from where we were headed). I only said that the broadcasting school was near where we were going.

The apartment at the last place had already been rented, but the gal there asked for my name and phone numbers and told me she would call me if something was going to be vacant in December. I'm going to call her in about a week and inquire as well.

The place in Del City is right by I-40, but I can deal with that if that is where I end up.
===

Babydoll is sitting in Tori and Dean's garage, waiting for me to tag and title her. I think Im going to take some of the stickers off her windows and the back bumper. She needs a lot of cosmetic work done (paint job, redo the pinstriping, maybe replace the passenger side rearview mirror where someone in Methuen opened their door into it about 5 years ago...), but that will have to wait. She really needs fluids, windshield wiper blades and tires more than a new paint job.

But, she runs! I wish I knew in 2003 that all she needed was a new fuel pump. I'd have probably taken care of it then instead of letting her sit for three years.

Tori asked why I wasnted to hold on to this car that needed all this work done. I told her that Babydoll was the first major purchase I made after Jon and I separated, and that she's paid for.

What I didn't tell her is that Babydoll represents freedom to me. Life is a highway, and I wanna ride it all night long...
===

That "Yes yes no no" and "No no yes yes" thing? Daniel explained it to me last night, and it make a little more sense. But just a little...


That's all from where I sit.

--MorelaterZ--

This post has no title, just words and a tune

I got this comment recently that I feel I have to comment on. The commenter didn't leave a name or any way to get a hold of him/her/them.

A couple of posts back, I admit that I was feeling sorry for myself. I'd had this series of nightmares that caused me to take a look at where I am in my life.

The commenter said in their post: You are worthy. You are not alone. You have not failed. However, it might be time to start living your life for Stef and no one else.

I know I am worthy and that I'm not alone. Sometimes, I have to write these things down here to have some kind of release. After all, that's part of the reason I started this blog to begin with. I never expect any comments on anything I write.

I'm not going to give up on a career in radio. So the job in Wyoming didn't work out. It happens. At least I'm not like one of my former classmates and gave up all together. I'm going to stick it out, go back to school to study more, and work at some kind of job (Long John Silvers? *wink*) to make ends meet. I'm going to get a place of my own so I can "live (my) life for Stef and no one else".

And on that point, that's what I've been doing for nearly eight years, since Jon and I decided to divorce. Living my life my way. And yeah, my doing so has pissed a lot of people off. I've been called selfish and immature for it. I don't live my life like anyone else, as I have warned people. Perhaps it takes a certain amount of courage to live my life like no one else, and even more courage for someone to be involved in my life (not counting family, who are involved whether they want to be or not).

The commenter also stated that: Then and only then, will you have true peace of mind, experience joy, and find unequivocal reciprocated love.

Strangely, this sounds like something my friend JC in Massachusetts would say to me. He's into all that new age stuff. Maybe it's him who left the comment? Possibly, but unlikely. Not unless he was Googling me recently and found this blog. Not that it would be a bad thing. Maybe I should shoot off an email and ask him.

Seriously, that is good advice though. Sometimes I get caught up in that trap of worrying about what people think. And we all know that is stupid. Who cares what other people think anyway? It's not like everytime I go somewhere I get in trouble or anything. I'm hardly embarrassing anyone by the way I conduct myself. After all, though I live my life on my terms, I'm not stupid, either. I know when to be serious. I know when it's time to have fun. Sometimes, I even try to combine the two. What a novel concept!

Yes, I am a smart ass. But this post is straight forward and serious. After all, this blog is about me. Warts and all.

Oh, BTW-- if you are the one who left this comment... thank you! Feel free to drop me an email, or leave a comment on any post.



That's all from where I sit.

--MorelaterZ--

Nightmare in Edmond

I had the worst, and I mean worst, nightmare last night....

It's like everything I've ever feared came to visit me in this dream. Even things that I haven't had nightmares about in years came to the surface.

I don't know if this is a reality check or what, but some of these things scare the crap out of me while I'm awake if I think about them long enough.

It could because of moving back here, the fear of failing again in my dream profession, the fear that I've disappointed a lot of people because of that failure, the fear that maybe i'm not cut out for it...

But when things that happened more than a decade ago come back to haunt me (how appropriate for Halloween, huh?), and give me the same feelings now as they did then, I wonder if I've really come to terms with those feelings.

I know there is still some anger there, but now instead of being directed inward, it's directed towards the person whose selfishness and self importance got me into this predicament. Someone who refuses to take responsibility for their actions in regards to this. And a decade later, I'm still having bad dreams about it. This someone sure isn't, of that I am certain.
===

Over on my MySpace page, I filled out a survey that was essentially fluff, but there was one question: "what are you afraid of?" I'm sure the person who put this survey together expected answers like "spiders", "monsters", "dying", etc. My answer was simple. There are things I'm afraid of that I can pretty much work out on my own, but there is one thing that scares me.

I'm afraid of not being worthy of being loved, by someone who loves me for who I am now, not what he wants me to be.
===

I had to write all this stuff down. I might delete this post later, I don't know. I do know that I seriously need to calm down.






That's all from where I sit.

--MorelaterZ--


Technorati Tags: [tagname]

I have a new goal in life...

I want to write a banned book.

I know I have that book in me somewhere. I just have to know where and how to look.

I can see it now: My Book (whatever it ends up being called)-- Banned in Boston; doesn't play in Peoria; thrown on the fire in some out of the way Bible Belt town.

First things first, though. I have to move and get settled in OKC. Get a job. And, get on with it.

So there.


That's all from where I sit.

--MorelaterZ--