It's Sunday night and as I try to write, I find my mind lacking in profundity. Too tired, I guess. But then again, blogging at the end of the day used to be the norm, and I could come up with something to say. What's the difference? I'm I just older and too many of the old synapses have worn out? Has the stress of the weekend sapped my creativity? Am I just hoping to slap together a blog post and then go watch a movie on the tube? Ah, maybe that's a hint. No blasted time. There's just so much that I want to do that I end up with no time for reflection, hence when it comes time to put words on, er, some server God-knows-where, I'm at a loss. Of course, if that's the case, the solution is easy--wait until I'm 65 (or 67) (or 70) (or 75) (or...) and start a retirement blog. Of course, by then blogs will all be videos featuring one's 3-D animated avatar with the option of using artificial intelligence to generate snarky comebacks for any obnoxious comments. And I'll still be on dial-up (provided by the Museum of History and Industry's 20th Century Living History exhibit), unable to post.

Labels: blogging, writing

Just 31 days until National Write a Whole Honkin' Novel (Or At Least Try to Blog Every Day) Month. Me, I don't think I'll wait that long. I've felt the blog muse stirring in the depths of my... well, not soul, really. Maybe more like a pancreas. Anyway, I thought I might make an attempt to blog every day in October--just to see if I still can. I'll probably cheat and count posts to the book review blog as sufficient fulfillments to the daily requirement, but I do promise that I won't start counting Twitter tweets, even if they are funny.

So anyway, what to write? Over the past few weeks, I've noticed items that I might have been able to stretch into blog posts. Tonight, however, the only thoughts that fill my mind are things I should be doing besides frittering away free time blogging. I should be doing my October tithing. I could also get some work done towards preparing the next Bible study. (I'm going with Jonah this time around, since I already have a commentary on the shelf.) I should finish clearing the junk off the typewriter table, so I can get rid of it. I could enter some genealogy info into Gene. And then there's all the book reviews that are outstanding--at least eight. But there's plenty of time for that... I mean, October's a long month.

Labels: blogging, church, life, rambling

Now yesterday was the day I missed posting. I was too busy up to the point where I got too tired. Sorry. As you might suspect, I won't be writing a novel this month, either.

I've added a new blog to the blogroll. It's a blog by a friend from high school, Dave. I definitely had mixed feelings when I heard he was going to blog. On the good side, Dave's funny and is a good writer. Plus he plays in a band, The Lennys, so he knows all sorts of lyrics to use as titles for his blog posts. The down side is that Dave started blogging to keep all of us informed about his batlle with Waldostein's Macroglubb..., er, Waldingstern's Macroglibbul..., no, um, Walgreen's Mac.... oh, grumpf! (cut) (paste) Waldenstrom's Macroglobulinemia. It's a blood cancer. It sucks.

Anyway, I doubt if both of you readers will actually follow Dave's blog, not knowing him and all, but this is what's on my mind so this is today's blog topic. Tune in tomorrow when I might talk about church politics, or visiting people in nursing homes, or Bollywood movies, or gathering stamps in my Library passport, or one of the many other little things that comprise my weekend.

Labels: blogging, life

I just want to say, for the record, that I did not miss posting yesterday--I blatantly skipped posting yesterday. Instead I wrote a couple of overdue e-mails, read a Nitpicker's Guide and watched part of a Bollywood movie. No, not the same Bollywood movie. Soon after I took Baghban back to the Library, I received word that Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham... was waiting on hold for me. Unlike Baghban, which stars Amitabh Bachchan as a father in conflict with his grown sons, Kabhi stars Amitabh Bachchan as a father in conflict with only one of his sons. At least I think it's only one. I'm only part way through the film, so maybe he starts squabbling with his other son as well. Even so, it's still only two sons compared to the four in Baghban.

In all seriousness, Kabhi is a cut above Baghban, though it still is a bit surreal to this American boy. I wonder if that's not part of what's behind this Bollywood kick of mine--trying to capture a bit of the confusion of living overseas, where you're never quite sure what's going on. Of course, it isn't quite the same. China didn't have subtitles. Or the big dance numbers.

Labels: blogging, Bollywood, life, movie

I was planning on writing about this catalog we got celebrating "beautiful girlhood" among other things, but work has gotten in the way. Rather than working a couple of hours last night, I figured I'd go in today and put in a half day. Well, first my work took longer than I thought, so I expanded that half day to six hours, then we had a emergency fix that involved a recalcitrant film processor and I ended up staying past the 10-hour mark. So now I'm to tired to write. So maybe I'll dissect the catalog some other day. I'm bound to get that desperate for a post topic again before the month is out.

Labels: blogging, work

Bunnah was looking over my shoulder and is very annoyed that I use the pseudonym "Coffee" when referring to her sister. The truth of the matter is that Bunnah was the one who came up with the nickname and I shamelessly stole it from her. So now the truth has been told and I can go have some supper with a clear conscience.

Bunnah also insists that I sign this.

Very Sincerely,
John
aka Hamburger Lad

Labels: blogging, commentary, confession, family

Have you heard about National Blog Posting Month? I did. Today. Pbbbbbbbt!

Hmmm, since I missed the chance to blog once a day for everyday in November, maybe I should just alter the rules a bit. Maybe I should just post once in November. Yeah, I think I manage that.

Labels: blogging, silliness

Aw, why kid myself? I'm not writing any more. There's nothing exciting going on that compels me to write. Nor do I have the time to try and create something amusing about the mundanity that is happening. (Or, as Karen suggested at the last Weblogger's Meetup, to fabricate lies about daily life.) So I'm going to take a sabbatical. Go fishing, as it were. (Though actually it's more like go watch some Bollywood flicks. The few times I've been fishing in my life I've found the activity to be incredibly boring.) So if you stop by here and there's nothing new, you'll know that this is the new normal. And if you stop by and there is new content, you'll know that I can't keep any resolution whatsoever. (Well, it's not like I'm really resolving not to blog. I'm just going to start not blogging for a while. Well, I guess I have already started that. Maybe it would be more accurate to say that I'm not going to feel guilty about not blogging. Just a little smidgeon of guilt over having started to not blog. I mean, Wil Wheaton keeps writing stuff. Of course, he probably has broadband and can get ideas from YouTube, but still...)(Okay I'm going to shut up now. Not because I've run out of things to say, which happened a number of sentences ago, but because dinner won't be ready until 7:00 and I need a Pop-Tart to tide me over.)(Yunnan Diet, meet the American Anti-Diet...) Ta....

Labels: blogging, life, writing

I know, I'm a couple of days early, but odds are I wouldn't find the time to blog in those two days. I'm a bit surprised that I managed to find time today. Interesting how much my blogging seems to spring as much from the time to write as it does from the desire to write. Ah, well. Anyway, during the past week or so, there were a few things that I wanted to blog about, so I should just write down the short versions.
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The last weblogger's meetup gave me the incentive to update the old blogroll. One interesting addition is My Shrapnel, where Gila is posting various writings dealing with her survival of a suicide bombing. Gila's a good writer regardless of the topic, but when she's recounting something so compelling as this, she's fascinating.
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A link at Unshelved led me to this blog, where I discovered this post about comic book super-heroes. All I can say is that Eric Burns has perfectly captured my own feelings on the matter.
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I got another e-mail from Bloatmeal the other week, asking me if I was ready to switch jobs yet. Surprisingly enough, I felt a moment or two of temptation. Those higher paychecks and benefits were nice to have. Of course, once I started recalling acid reflux and stress headaches and lack of sleep and corporate b.s. and all that, I had an easier time replying, "no."
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In a tangential vein, my current boss' last day is Thursday. The whole company is invited out to a dinner/retirement party after work. We're also taking up a collection for a farewell gift. I have to admit that I had a moment of resentment over that. He's the one selling out for big bucks, right? sigh. I can't believe I've gotten so stingy....
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I finished Season One of Stargate SG-1. It's so... American. Take the episode "Singularity", where the crew find out that the little girl they've rescued has a nuclear time bomb implanted inside her. A great bit of drama. If it were Farscape, the bomb would have exploded and the crew's anguish and sorrow would have played out over a number of episodes. Instead we get a bomb that magically defuses and dissolves away once the child ventures far enough away from the stargate. Not very satisfying television. Ruminator is right--I should be seeking out the new Battlestar Galactica.
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I had a busy Saturday: a Bible class, a memorial gathering and a program on making comics. The memorial was for Anita Rowland. It was nice to hear again how wonderful a person she was. She truly deserved to be loved by as many folks as she was. (Or should I say "as she is", since that affection hasn't gone away.) It did feel a bit weird being there, though. I really didn't know her all that well, and her friends and family even less. I kind of slipped in late for the program and then slipped out early during the socializing. I felt like a ghost mourner, come to pay my respects.
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Regarding the comics program, it did give me an idea for a creative endeavor. One of the presenters, David Lasky, gave a workshop on mini-comics, where we were supposed to create our own. While throwing out starter ideas, he wrote down the title "My Most Embarrassing Moment". It occurred to me that a mini-comic might be just the vehicle to tell the tale of my most embarrassing moment in China. It's something that takes up many pages in my writing steno book, but might be able to be condensed into a short, illustrated tale. Of course, if I don't have time to type in a blog, when will I find time to illustrate a comic?

Labels: blogging, China, comics, life, money, TV, work