Summer Time

Took my youngest two siblings and a couple of their friends swimming today. I sat along the pools edge until I couldn't stand it any more. I jumped in.
Now I know why people invented swimsuits....street clothes don't cut it. I mucked about for about half an hour then got out an tried to read. We were swimming at our neighbors pool. It's a fun game. It's called wait until the neighbors leave then run across and swim until the come back and notice five children splashing about in their property. Then we play run really fast and hope they don't come after us. I joke. They are the best of neighbors. Anywho I was sitting, sopping wet I might add, on one of their deck chairs when a little girl, probably six or seven, came out. Adorable. One of those kids that you can just tell that they'll will be stunning when they grow up. Green gray eyes. Dark brown hair that she kept twisting in her hands. She proceeded to strike up a conversation with me. I love kids. I love how blunt they are. I love how they aren't shy. I love how they tell you exactly what they are thinking. She was looking a a reptile tank that my neighbors keep their lizard in and was wondering....all sorts of things about it. 'why are its eyes so small?' 'What is it looking at?' 'Do lizards swim?' Heavy stuff. I did my best to answer. She was precious. Note: I love kids because they don't cause drama. They might whine and scream. But I don't know any six year olds that start rumors. Lets keep it that way....

A Mind is a Terrible Thing to Lose

"How much strain can the human mind take? Is it the length of the suffering or only the severity that decides whether ‘we’ll continue on’? How many deaths? How much hunger? How much fear will man put up with? Before it ends, before humanity says ‘enough’. To what lengths will someone go to escape their world?  And if suicide isn’t an option…what recourse does man have? How else does he escape? When you can’t make your legs run, you force your brain to compensate. The brain, that untapped well of possibilities. What if? The question with a thousand answers. What if the brain were so much more than a way of thinking, speaking, surviving. What if we could escape? All of it.

I want out. I won’t stay here. This hell hole of a world where glass shards in your food is a norm and people get stabbed on their own doorsteps. The stinking gas that you run screaming from. The beautiful flash of colored light in the sky that signals even more destruction. This isn’t home. This isn’t earth. Earth is somewhere you can live, where the human population can thrive and expand. Are there humans anymore? All I see are looters waiting outside you house for you to die and monsters that forget their children as they run for bomb shelters. This isn’t humanity. It’s survival in its basest form.  We live because we have to, because the thought of dying is even more terrifying than how we will die. Pain is a norm. Smoke is a norm. If the sky is still blue when the smog clears it will be a miracle. But it won’t. It will stay just like everything else, just like the constant rumble of glass bombs and the soft hiss of escaping gas. I want out. I feel like if I tried hard enough. Prayed hard enough. Maybe God would let me out? Let me escape. My brain hasn’t clicked out of survival mode; I don’t think it ever will. I feel something in there, working furiously, as if it’s going through all the possibilities, all the different decisions I could take.  But even more than that, I feel the handle of a door. Good god. It’s in there, a glimmer of hope, waiting for me to open it and peer through. See if I like what’s behind it. It’s alien. A different world altogether. And I think I can just step through.  But do I dare. Could this new reality be just as hellish as my old home? Listen, do you hear that? The shatter of glass? The screams of someone caught in a billowy acid cloud. Clutch at the door handle. Concentrate. Pray that the option for me to get out is still there.  And now my old world is melting away. My two realities twisting and untwisting as I will myself into the new one.  Come and join me. If you have the gift of deciding your own fate. Your own reality. Come find me. I’m right below you."

This is sort of the basis for my story. Humanity and how far they will go to escape. We have so much of it going on at present. People escape into movie characters, book characters, music;  anything but themselves ...and their own life. They have to be someone else, be elsewhere to escape.  And I suppose I don't blame them...it's understandable. I don't agree with it but how many of us have ever said 'I wish I wasn't me.' Truth be told....I think everyone has said it...or at least thought it. We all go through suffering. It's the way we deal with it that makes us different. Stronger. Depressing post fit for a less than happy day.

A Piratical Poem.

SWEET REVENGE

What ho, What hey, I’m Blackbeard

The terror of the seas

Come stop your work, your play

And hear my victim’s pleas

This one’s a Nun, I robbed her

And here’s a boy I ate

My crew is a pack of demons

From hell they took their shape

I’m fiercer than the devil

I’m deadlier than the pox

If spied, my dread ship Queen Anne

Will cause your purses loss

I have a vice, a wee one

It’s sweets, the candy vile

I’ll burn down ports and shipyards

It’s my inconvenient trial

One year in mid-October

I scented in the air

A tang so sweet, so juicy

I simply couldn’t bear

I drove the ship aground

And forced my whining crew

To help me find the culprit

That tantalizing brew

Once found, the form, it shocked me

On edge I was at once

The pot was stirred by a woman

She beamed, her skirts did flounce

“Oh Blackbeard darling, devil

Come try my honey, sweet

I promise that the flavor

Will be very hard to beat

Against my better judgment

I drank the liquid down

Straight way my view went dizzy

And my heart began to pound

“What’s in the sticky substance?”

I choked, my throat I grasped

It stung like scalding fire

I could but wheeze and gasp

The dreadful brew was poisoned

With the bitter sap of asps

My stomach rolled round within me

The lady cried “At last!”

“At last! You dreadful bounder!

Now listen Blackbeard, heed!

Your burning throat is testament

As vengeance for your deeds

So now you’ll die in pain

My plan is going dandy

Who knew your greatest weakness?

Would be a pot of candy!”

What ho, what hey I’m Blackbeard

The terror of the brave

No longer need to fear me

Cause I’m writing from my grave

So heed my sorry tale

And keep your vices handy

So you needn’t go too far

To stock up on your candy

Avoid the Eastern port

That lady had me beat

She’s cunning and she’s vengeful

And she gave me poisoned sweets

My Pirate brothers listen

Whose port is in warmth or ice

Stay far away from Terra

And wisely choose your vice

Yes. I wrote this late at night....and yes it might have been after watching 'Pirates 1' ;)

It was a Dark and Humid Night

It's 12:19. And as you may have guess...I can't sleep. My bedroom feels like I'm inhaling water every time I breathe. (been there, done it, almost died. ) Ah humidity. If I were in a comic book I'd be Night Owl and my Arch enemy would be Humidity Horror. But I'm not so all I can do is whine about how hot it is on my blog. Hey I made a joke! Lets see if anyone else gets in! Hint. Phrasing of words....
This is probably not a good use of my time.
It's not that I can't sleep. I WON'T sleep. I'm rebelling against normal sleep patterns. Watch, I'll regret it in the morning when I work. More likely I'll read this post in the morning and scream 'WHO POSTED THIS GARBAGE ON MY BLOG?' And then I'll remember and go to bed at a decent time tomorrow. Wait it is tomorrow....
It's actually kinda creepy down here. I'm at my dining room table in the dark...typing away like the insomniac creep that I am.  If I believed in ghosts ( which I do) I'd being running back upstairs to my aquarium... why am I not in my room? Two words.
Older sister. Terrifying things. long sharp teeth! Green eyes! HORRIBLE!
Actually she's a baker and she has to get up super early. Like by the time I'm finished with this post.
She is. Hands down the most hardcore person in my life right now....I don't know how she does it. Cooks are like food rockstars. The make our taste buds stand up and scream for more.
Let's put it this way. If Hannah's bakery (which she will be owning soon) was selling tickets, I'd be in the front row.
And while we're on the subject of hardcore sisters I have another one to share with you night owls. Kels. Could shoot the wing off a fly. A coin out of the air. A modern Annie Oakley. Let's just say I'll be more than set for the Zombie apocalypse.
Speaking of Ghouls and the like, my recently departed fish's ghost (I feel bad Ida. I swear.) just swam out of my liquid like room and informed me that it is high time for some shut eye. ttyl.

Tomcat

I found her. Some of her at least.
I wrote today. And by wrote I mean curled up in a chair and ate the end of my pen in frustration. Why does writing have to be so hard? Answer. Because if it wasn't there would be too many books dummy. Don't ask stupid questions Janelle. Ehem.

As I was saying before my evil twin Harriet started to argue with me, I was writing. It was hard. blah, blah....and then there she was. Standing there. As clear as day. Standing there laughing at me in the manner that I'd created for her.
"Why did it take you so long to find me?" She asked, her lips twitching into a half smile. "You thought me up for heavens sake."
I can see her face. and her hands. and the type of shoes she's wearing. the color of her eyes that for so long eluded description.  Hello Tomcat.
Then the little brat took off running in the opposite direction leaving me with a big, fat, steaming pile of Writer's Block. Fantastic. Love you too. Grrr.
Writing is...this blank can be filled with basically any word. Today it's AGGRAVATING. Some days your characters sit still for you. Some days your characters play hide and go seek...not the fun version. But the version in which they lock themselves in a room and swallow the key. Fun game. Not. But some days you catch a glimpse of them. Pray you have a pen and a writing surface (arm, passer by, desk, book....yeah paper will do.)
I'm off to try and find her. Good night one and all. Good night....

Super 8

Super 8. was amazing. I say that about just about every movie I like but this one...was really, really good. I've never seen a movie where the leads where so young. Their acting rivaled most seasoned actors. The plot, yes, was simple. But in my opinion the acting and set was so good that you hardly noticed that the plot was basic. It was surprisingly jumpy! With several good attack scenes and a train wreck that put Jason Bourne's antics to shame. So good. The cast was made up of the typical characters, characters that you'd expect to see adults play. The twitchy pyro. The large funny guy. The beautiful blond. The strong silent leader. Made all the more funny and charming because of their age. Go. see. this. movie. Well worth it.

Mummsie's Birthday.

Why. Oh. Why. On such a day as this do I have to be absent minded? It's my mom birthday today...and like a chump I bolted out to the nearest Fanny Mae and purchased ...you guessed it. Chocolate. Which would have been fine but my younger sister promptly informed me that 'Everyone was getting mom chocolate." Love you mom. I think I'll have a chip installed in my brain that sends me a message when important dates are looming...something like 'DON'T SLACK OFF THIS TIME.' or maybe 'THINK ORIGINAL!' Bah. Next year I'll buy her a car or a horse....then we'll see which sibling can top that! Haha. I'm off to present my gift to the queen. Later gator.

work and such.

I worked today. And by work I mean closed and opened the lid to a scanner for about six hours. Brain cells revived. false.
On the plus side I went to Bigby's and the girl made my drink a size too large....and then apologized for it. HOW DARE YOU GIVE ME MORE COFFEE! Why can't we all think like Bigbys? I think the world would be a better place...Seriously go there. I think their stuff is awesome. Plus I think their managers make them do the whole 'Jimmy John's Politeness Thingumy' where they have to greet you like your their best friend. Puts me in a chipper mood everytime....even if they are faking it. The only bad thing is their timing is waaaaay off. The say 'have a great day' right as you walk out the door so there are only two options. Jamb your foot in front of the door like an idiot and thank them or stand there shouting your thanks to the glass and hope they don't think you screaming at them. Either way it's tricky.
Ok. I'm off.
P.S. findingtomcat is sort of a random name for a blog. Tomcat is one of my characters. One that sort of pops up in everything I write. Sometimes without permission. :( So without plagiarizing Waldo and naming my blog 'Where is Tomcat?' I came up with a clever second best. findingtomcat means finding inspiration, finding characters, finding me. In a way…

Start of the Beginning

7/8/11
So. Blogging. I'm a blogger. I got to tell you, it's not much different than writing in my journal or on my word doc. (which is both unnerving and upsetting if you think about it considering my journal is less than public domain). But it took me like 71 hours to set this up so by golly I'm going to write in it. But that's the thing. I say it's nerve wracking, and I say it's weird, but really....who will see this? One ....maaaaybe two poor souls? Am I just going to be rambling to the wide open spaces of Onlinedom? Part of me hopes not.
I hope someone sees this.
sigh.
I sincerely hope that all bloggers have troubles with their first posts. That raises another question. What is this going to be about? As much as I'd love to share my epic and exciting life (false, I do not have a life, nor would it be epic even were I to get one.) I don't really think that's what blogging is about. Correct me if I'm wrong. I'm sure some people could pull off the 'I'm blogging today about how I sky dived (sky dove?) in Mexico then climbed a live volcano and then met Bill Gates for brunch kind of day.'  But we hate those kinds of people don’t we. Yes, yes we do. Plus I’m sure Bill Gates would not brunch in Mexico….so ha! Off roading. Dang.
But what was I saying? And how did Bill Gates enter my post. Bah. Out. This blog is about me! Stalling? Yes I am.
Ok. Here is the thing. I used to make fun of bloggers. Truly. I thought bloggers were a bunch of geeks that got online to share their latest Star Trek knowledge with a bunch of similar minded nerds. It isn’t relevant that I am a huge nerd…and also like Star Trek. If I ever start to talk about Captain Kirk someone please verbally punch me. Still stalling. I guess I want this blog to answer some questions I have and maybe people will ask some of their own? Because isn’t that what life is? Discovery? Several good friends told me that I should blog about story ideas as well so I might do a bit of that.  Maybe I’ll start….hopefully my question won’t come bouncing back to me like echoes in an empty room. Please someone answer. I’ll take anything. Yes, even you Mr. Gates.
So come you writers, you geeks and you searchers…
What do people think of the concept of Mind control? BAM. There it is. I’ve asked it. You’re probably underwhelmed.  But really. I was just thinking about it. It’s a fascinating concept that demands a closer scrutiny. I know it’s kind of a cheesy idea. But the possibilities are literally, endless. I think it’s a workable idea. What is your take on it?
I think I’m done. First blog. I don’t feel no different. I’ll try again tomorrow. Good night.