Month: December 2004

Show tunes.

Somebody had a quote by Miguel de Cervantes today at work. Don Quixote! I broke into song.

I am I, Don Quixote, the Lord of La Mancha dum dum dum de dum da da dum!

And then they told me to shut up, but there you go. Later, blogging, I looked up the lyrics on the internet.

I am I, Don Quixote,

The Lord of LaMancha,

My destiny calls, and I go!

And the wild winds of fortune

Shall carry me onward … To wither so ever they blow …

Wither so ever they blow …

Onward to glory I go!

Movie.

Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy opens on May 6th. This will be Arthur Dent, and this will be Slartibartfast. Other actors look just as obvious for their parts.

I’ve like Hitchhiker’s a lot longer than I’ve liked Joss Whedon. Also, it’s right after my birthday, so whatever, “Serenity.”

Cookies.

We made homemade cookies today. Easter cookie cutters, Christmas sprinkles. I hope when she’s older she gets used to this kind of thing.

Na na na na Star!

Ray: Na na na na Star! Na na na na Star!

Me: What are you doing?

Ray: I wish a star.

Me: What do you wish for?

Ray: I wish presents Christmas.

Me: Good choice.

Writing stuff.

It’s been a while…

I finished the third draft of the story, and I still have a lot of work to do. Some things are going much better, some things are the same, and some things I still can’t figure out at all.

Why? Why why why???

The problem with giving your characters independence is that they do stuff. I don’t get a lot of it. This would be a great story if I could just figure it out.

For instance, the other day I figured out what the story was about. Two years until it clicked.

There’s this brilliant kid, someone who isn’t smart, per se, but who’s very creative, and he lives in a place where he can’t do anything with it. What does he do? It’s something I saw over and over again in South Dakota: leave, hide, or burn out. In a way the answer I came up with is sad; the one guy that didn’t do the above had to save the world to earn the right to be himself (Dennis). The others leave (Jordan), burn out (Kyle), or hide (Crusher). (Kyle’s not from the same place, but he’s in the same situation.)

The next draft I’m going to work on something I picked up from reading some of Doyce’s stuff, i.e., scene and character details, and try to pry some more insight out of the damn thing.

Right now I’m taking a break — I don’t think it’s going to last very long. I moped around the house all day until I sat down to edit, at which point I felt like living again.

Addict.

Sheesh. (Writing stuff.)

It’s been a while…

I finished the third draft of the story, and I still have a lot of work to do. Some things are going much better, some things are the same, and some things I still can’t figure out at all.

Why? Why why why???

The problem with giving your characters independence is that they do stuff. I don’t get a lot of it. This would be a great story if I could just figure it out.

For instance, the other day I figured out what the story was about. Two years until it clicked.

There’s this brilliant kid, someone who isn’t smart, per se, but who’s very creative, and he lives in a place where he can’t do anything with it. What does he do? It’s something I saw over and over again in South Dakota: leave, hide, or burn out. In a way the answer I came up with is sad; the one guy that didn’t do the above had to save the world to earn the right to be himself (Dennis). The others leave (Jordan), burn out (Kyle), or hide (Crusher). (Kyle’s not from the same place, but he’s in the same situation.)

The next draft I’m going to work on something I picked up from reading some of Doyce’s stuff, i.e., scene and character details, and try to pry some more insight out of the damn thing.

Right now I’m taking a break — I don’t think it’s going to last very long. I moped around the house all day until I sat down to edit, at which point I felt like living again.

Addict.

Weight.

(Forgive me if I screw this up.)

1 lb = 16 oz. = 1 pint

1 c = 8 oz (2 c = 1 pint, 2 pints = 1 quart, 4 quarts = 1 gallon)

1 gallon = 8 pints = 8 pounds.

So a gallon (of beer) is 8 pounds.

According to my sources, keg sizes are:

1/2 barrel, or 15.5 gallons of beer.

1/4 barrel, or 7.25 gallons of beer (pony keg).

A 1/2 barrel keg is 124 lbs. of beer.

A 1/4 barrel keg (pony keg) is 62 lbs. of beer.

A case of beer is 24 12 oz. cans of beer:

288 total oz. of beer, or 18 pounds of beer, or 2.25 gallons of beer.

A six-pack of beer is 6 12 oz. cans of beer:

72 total oz. of beer, or 4.5 pounds of beer, or just over half a gallon of beer.

So a woman of, say, 150 lbs. is worth about a keg and 1 1/2 cases of beer. The monetary value varies depending on brand, for instance, Miller Lite vs. Amber Bock.

Now, whenever someone asks you for a really annoying favor, like helping paint their house, you can say, “Only if you give me my weight in beer.”

(To find your weight in gold:

A gold bar is 1 oz.

16 oz./pound.

Gold at $501/oz.

Your weight in gold per pound: $8016.

That same woman would be worth $1,202,400.)

“So. Do you want to come over tomorrow and paint my house?”

“No,” I said.

“No.” “No.” “I will for beer.”

“Got to be a lot of beer,” I said. “Tell her you’ll do it for your weight in beer.”

“You stay out of this; you said no. And it’s just one room anyway.”

Good way to kill the last ten minutes of work on a Friday, trying to figure out your weight in beer units.

Badge.

You don’t get badges for being a parent, but you should. Like “My Child Survived to Adulthood Only Because I Didn’t Kill Him (or Her).” Like “Did the Sex Talk.” Like “Made it through Flu Season with a Two-Year Old without a Direct Hit.”

Here’s the badge I want: The “Fox In Sox Adult Recognition” Badge.

I can read Fox in Sox without a major screwup, and another adult has witnessed and recognized this fact.

I can blab that blibber-blubber. My tongue is too made of rubber.

Update:

We have since had the “shit” talk.

Ray: What shit?

Me: Shit is poop when you’re really mad.

Ray: Shit!

Me: Are you mad?

Ray: No mad.

Me: Then just say poop.

Ray: Okay. Pooooop pooop pooooooooop!

Me: Good job.

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