"The River Boy" by Tim Pratt doesn't do anything. It opens with a bunch of heavy exposition along the lines of "there once was an old lady who lived in a shoe" and then it goes into a baby lustfest. See, this old woman can bear no more children...yet, she'd like just one more. So she goes to talk to the river--boringly called the River--and after a short nap wakes to find a tiny baby boy at her side. She quickly breastfeeds the baby and claims him as her own.

Pop quiz time! Pencils at the ready!
What did she name him?
A. Hugoablawmo
B. River
C. Mr. Fantastic
D. Boy Wonder
E. None of the above

If you answered "A," you're a nitwit.

Should a story be for the writer or for the readers? Who matters most? With a little help of the Internet I learned that the story's author's wife recently gave birth. And there's even a dedication at the end "for my son." That's nice and all, but really...the issue could've done without the story (I see it now as an archaic fairy tale or moral-heavy fable) in lieu of an actual piece of speculative fiction that wasn't just there because a daddy writer felt his heartstrings being tugged. But, like I said, this sort of thing is to be expected around this time I guess.

Rating: 3 anonymous stars out of 10

"Debris Ensuing from a Supervortex" by Brian Ames deals with the loss of identity and memory. A fellow by the name of Blake returns home from work. Then, thanks to a shit-disturbing tornadic vortex, all of his possessions are sucked high into the sky and distributed across three counties. Something called SD, a birdlike entity that feeds back memories to Blake as if they are worms and brunch is ready to be served, swoops in to take hold of Blake's now disrupted life. What SD is...is pretty unclear. Most of the story is. Still, it is a lot more enjoyable than Pratt's "The River Boy," and really offers up some neat imagery. I particularly liked the juxtaposition of Blake's house's walls being ripped into the sky versus us learning what mundane meal he had for dinner.

Both stories are very short though, and I'd have rather liked a longer second one to pair up with "The River Boy." Not the greatest issue, but the Brian Ames piece is worth reading. It has a nice sense of flow, even though there is no firm conclusion. That's okay. A little mystery never hurt nobody.

Rating: 6.5 anonymous stars out of 10

I'll try and remember it...Ok, I don't have a hope in hell of remembering it but I'll try and wing it anyway.  I warn you, this might get a little bit soppy, mushy, warm and fuzzy, all that kind of crap.  Why?

Because I got an award!!!

Melissa from Such Simple Pleasures bestowed this amazing award upon my most grateful self.  She also said something really nice about me that touched me and made me cry.  Yes, it really made it through this heart of stone...told ya it was amazing!

So in the post I lost, I expressed a fair amount of insecurities I have about blogging in general.  Thinking on it, I am really glad I lost that stupid post.  I sometimes feel/felt that I was a bit out of place in the blogosphere.  I don't really have a place yet...I don't have a funny or useful blog and everyone seems to have a huge circle of blogger buddies.  It can be intimidating to break into the comments between people who know each other a while.   I know that I love reading people's blogs and commenting and with that comes a certain fondness for the blogger.  I find myself beginning to warm to them, admiring them, respecting their opinions, really like them and in general become their stalker fan.

There are lots of bloggers I feel this way about.  I will never become close to most of them but it doesn't stop me feeling like I know them from what I read on their blogs if that makes sense.  It always amazes me when somebody...acknowledges me.  What I mean is, even though I notice them, I never think that they might notice me or remember me.  So, when somebody I like acts like they might like me back...well, I feel all nice and happy and warm.  That doesn't last long, don't worry, I have a rep to protect, dig it?

So what I'm trying to say is, there are lots of bloggers who are really, genuinely nice, who welcome wierdos like me into their fold, or at least tolerate their presence.  Even if the wierdos aren't popular...or particularly friendly for that matter.  I started blogging at the end of September so I don't know if I was just lucky to find lots of nice bloggers early on or if the blogging world actually is overloaded with such happy sappy heads but either way, I'm very grateful to have met you all.

I have to give this award out and in my head, I want to give it to everyone that was nice to me and made me feel welcome.  In my world (the one with no friends) it means an awful lot to me and I thank you.  Out loud, I'm just going to give it to a couple of girl bloggers.  I don't really think the boys would appreciate the cute award quite so much!

Firstly, I hand it straight back to Melissa.  Even if somebody else had passed this award on to me, I would still have given it to Melissa, no hesitation.  I love how honest she is in her posts (even when they get her into trouble ;) ).  I admire the way she gives so much of herself to the reader, yet still has so much more to say and manages to be fun too!  I started to visit Melissa's blog after I saw a couple of her comments on other people's blogs and had to read more.  She's frank, emotional, sensitive and humorous, how can you not think she's a top bird?

Next up are two hot mommas that I met very early along the way and two that I really admire. 

Antibarbie is probably the first person I started visiting regularly.  I cannot for the life of me remember where I found her but I'm glad I did.  I adore the fact that she is always her own person and is comfortable in that role.  She comes across as the kind of person that would run to a friend's rescue but tell that friend out straight if they were in the wrong.  She's a majorly talented writer, I sometimes feel like all of her creative writing is written especially for me because it is exactly the kind of thing I love to read and she has that sarcastic wit thing going on so you can't go wrong really!   I doubt that she knows it but I think very highly of this lady.

I found Cardiogirl on antibarbie's blog.  Cardiogirl is fun and a great host, she looks after everyone who visits her blog.  She makes me laugh and I love the way she writes her posts.  People can't help liking her because she is so friendly and fun.  But that isn't why I love her.  It is the vulnerability and insecurities that draw me to her.  I love the quirky witty comments she leaves every single person that comments on her page but I'm more fond of what is left when the fun is over.  The real "deep down" Cardiogirl, the one that you're only allowed to see glimpses of sometimes and then it's back to business.  That's the one who I want to pass this award on to...because that's who I visit every day for.

My next two are relatively new bloggers in my world and I'm more than a little shy at doing this in case they think I'm wierd and run away forever.  Antibarbie and Cardiogirl already know I'm wierd...

Firstly I want to pass the award on to Blue Sleepy.  I first noticed Bluesleepy on Cardiogirl's blog and then on other blogs and finally plucked up the courage to comment on her page.  To me, Blue Sleepy is a lady and I don't quite measure up so I was more than pleasantly surprised that she too made me feel welcome.  I can't even cook (that's exactly what I thought).  Some people you just like...instantly.  This girl is one of them.  I can't explain it exactly but there are some people that should be known by everyone.  Again bluesleepy makes that list.  I think she's a sweetie pie.

Finally I'd like to pass this on to Guilty Secret.    I love her blog.  It's one of the most personal and open blogs I have ever read.  And guilty herself is a darlin'.  I found her on Cardiogirl's blog too, funny how one blog leads to another.  Sometimes her comments are really verbose and intelligent while others, they are sort of...dreamy and happy.  Again, I'm not so great at explaining which is frustrating.  Guilty's words are very compelling and she basically allows her readers to completely delve into her mind and really get to know her.  She makes you want to know more and root for her at the same time.  Sometimes the best blogs are the ones that let you in if you get me.   She's also good at replying to her comments ;)  And she's very patient with me even when I ask her awkward questions.

I just want to say that there are other people I want to give it to but I have to stop somewhere and in some cases, I don't know them as well yet.  But I honestly want to get to know them better.  I know I'm going to look at my blogroll and feeder after this and go, ah crap but feck it, it's done now.  I'm not going to tell any of the people mentioned about this post.  If they see it, they see it, if they don't, they weren't meant to.  Either way, I'm grateful for the many sound heads in the bloglands.   Don't get too excited, I could hate you all tomorrow ;) 

Another year, another birthday. This has been a fast one! I guess that's what happens when you're having a good time.

It's been a full and rather eventful trip around the sun this time. I've made some new friends and drifted away from others. I've blown every bit of my vacation time on old what's his face ... oh yeah! Taylor Hicks.

I've seen a lot of ugliness (online and off), but I've also seen a lot of beauty. I will continue to focus on that beauty and try to put the ugliness out of my head (although, it is extremely difficult).

I've been vilified and admired, betrayed and loved. Some have made me sad and angry, others have filled my heart with joy. I've had my faith tested and my loyalties questioned.

It's made me wary, but also assured me of who my friends are.

Although my heart is heavy and my spirit is weary, I am not giving up or giving in. Although tired, my soul is resilient. I look back on the past year with reassurance and look  forward to the next with hope. Everything that has happened - the bad as well as the good - has made me who I am and will continue to shape my character and personality, so I am thankful for it all.

There are a lot of questions in my mind right now -

Will I still be blogging on my 33rd?
Will I still be with The Boogie?
Will there even be a Boogie?
Will I reach my goal weight by then? (I can answer that one now - YES! I lost 60 pounds this year and am closing in on the end.)
Will Taylor release a new album in the coming year?
How many shows will I get to attend?
Will I change jobs? (I'm working up my resume as we speak.)

For most of those questions, I'll just have to wait and see. I'm not too awful worried about any of them. My life keeps getting better with each passing year, so (barring any great tragedies) I will have to guess that this coming year will be a good one.

Salud!

(If my musical selections confound you, please go here.)

I've often said that living here makes you insane by default. I think there's some sort of brain-ray generator at the top of the Washington Monument that makes everyone go batshit crazy. How else do you explain American politics? For all its flaws, which I could easily spend days enumerating, I will miss certain things that I've always just taken for granted.

There's the parks, for one. Rock Creek Park is one of the best places to hike that I've ever been to. I'd go there all the time during periods of stress just to even myself out. Then there's the museums, all of them free, all of them filled with amazing stuff that you just don't see elsewhere. I'll even miss the politics. It's a thinking man's game, and I tend to think a lot.

I'll miss the crazy protesters, not the anti-war ones, who have a good cause, but the anti-circumcision ones. Or the anti-spelling ones. The best picket sign I have ever seen read "Enuf is Enuf - Enough is Too Much!"

I'll miss the music, and the history. I'll miss the run down record shop on the corner that Dave Grohl used to work at before he was in, and I do believe this is the proper terminology, "Fucking Nirvana"

They say around here that DC is Hollywood for ugly people. I wonder what happens when one of us goes to Hollywood?

It was all so simple when I was Zen. I was free and nothing really mattered. I guess my fears and insecurities got the best of me. I took Pascal's bet hook line and sinker. Is it selfish to pursue freedom or is it stupid for me to believe in something that relies on belief itself. I may be stupid and I may be not. Maybe the fear lingers in the fact that I might be giving up way too much for something that might not even exist. That's why I need to leave. I won't find the answers here. I need to explore the world and be away from all the things that clutter my mind: my family, the Church, my friends, my life. I need to be somewhere else. I need to find myself and not be blinded by the person created by these factors of socialization. I need to see who I really am. I need to go back to the start: Yes! A fresh start.

I thought I've come to find my peace with who I really am: a collection of personas. As it turns out, these personas are really proving to be too much to handle. I don't think I can keep up with them anymore. Maybe this is the reason why I want to flee. I need a fresh start so I can be who I want to be somewhere where I am not already tainted, where I can be a new person, myself.

Before the videoke was everywhere, it used to be on a cable tv channel. V hung out at my college apartment a lot and we would sing loudly, paying serious attention to the words changing colors on the tv screen. It was probably all off-key..but it didn't matter. We rocked! hahahaha..yet the laughter was short-lived.

We consumed an entire gallon of Lambanog in Quezon, singing every song that came on the videoke channel. We even managed to borrow a microphone from our classmate. And as if it was not meant to be a night of drunken madness and eardrum tearing singing, a cockroach flew over our heads and forced us to flee for our lives.

In his room there is no tv. But we play CD's and sing along, inventing lyrics when they escape us. And he rides the bike inside his room and shows me tricks that reveal more than he would have liked to show me. But that's not videoke anymore.

When he left there was no song to sing. And he took my best CD's and never gave them back. I imagine he played them all the time and listened to the echoes of his singing. I imagined he would sing louder and louder trying to drown my imaginary voice singing in the back of his head. But that was my fantasy. And I was probably not missed that much.

So now I can't seem to bring myself to go gaga over the videoke with the Mister because I feel guilty that these memories invade my head when I do. I cannot seem to forget about this V whom I once liked to have around so much. But you know the Mister finds it funny that he is the lucky bastard whose name I now use.

****

And I am thinking about this because??