June 30, 2003

I've been thinking a lot lately about writing. In what direction do I want to head? What am I good at writing? What do I want to be good at writing?

It's gotten a lot more intense in my head since a certian "famous" weblogger person type thingie wrote a book and it's all for sale at Borders and Barnes and Noble. I'm not too keen on her site or her stuff and I know that Em had a run in with her a long while back. (hint) She's one of those "modern fiction" writers, writing about girls and their problems and the internet and all that stuff. Good for her. It worked out good and she's published. Great. I'm not jealous I'm just really not into that whole genre so much.

What genre am I into? I guess it is classified as modern fiction. Geek Love by Katherine Dunn is one of my most favorite books in the world. Clive Barker, if you know me at all, you know is my favorite author. Perks of Being a Wallflower is another incredible book. I've read all of Douglas Coupland's stuff and LOVE it. Chuck Palahniuk is amazing. There's more, I know. I really do like "modern" fiction. I'm into it. I just hate "girly" modern stuff. "ooh I'm bridget jones and I'm looking for love in all the wrong places. I'm too fat. I'm too skinny. I'm a whore and watch sex in the city."
I think that's it. It's the whole Sex In The City vibe that I loathe. Worrying so much about clothes and boyfriends and bullshit doesn't interest me.

Yet, I can write it well. I think because it's really, honestly, mindless. It's easy to write about what's going on around us every second of the day, every day of the year. What's hard is giving it that unique twist, something strange, something that makes it different than the 300 other bridget-jones-girl-with-a-relationship-dilemma. Sure, they're funny. Sure, they something some women can relate to. I'll give them that. But we're being inundated with funny women relationship sexy weight issue stories. There's too many.

This is not to say, though, that I was even thinking of going down that road. It's just that modern fiction is so fickle. Everyone can write it. Not everyone can make it pop.

What is modern fiction, then? I’m not talking about the modern in the sense of literature sake – for if that’s the case then Virginia Woolf is considered modern fiction. All writing from the 20th century is modern fiction. Maybe I’m talking about post-modern fiction. I don’t know. I just know that I’m taking about recent fiction that’s come out within the last, oh, 5-10 years (for the most part) that takes on the relaxed tones and themes of the current events. Current Event fiction? Whatever.

Do I want to write this? Obviously, it’s what I know. I wrote a story about lawnmower racing that the people who enjoy it. This story could be technically included in my sweeping generalization however it’s got a twist that makes it unique. It’s not common. It’s not pedantic. I don’t know. I’m starting to lose focus with what I was trying to say.
What do I want to write? I think that was supposed to be the point. I want to write modern fiction with a unique twist. I want to write something fantastic that isn’t only about relationships or weight or something stupid. I want to write about people and if they have a relationship, that’s fine. I want the events to be crazy, to be believable yet over the top. I want something that we can all relate to without relating to anyone. I want to have stories that are so ridiculous that they are believable. I want to write stories about humpbacked midgets who come from a family of circus freaks like Katherine Dunn. I want to write about a cross country road trip meeting people from strange walks of life – truck drivers on crystal meth, children of the corn, guys that work in mechanic shops on the side of the road somewhere in Nebraska who suddenly get laid by this incredibly hot blonde. The un-ordinary ordinary.
This is what I want to do.
But is this what everyone aims to do?
Do they think that their stories are these incredible twists on ordinary subjects? Could they possibly believe it?
There’s something that I just can’t put my finger on. There’s something so boring, so same-old-same-old about recent fiction. What makes what I like stand out from the crowd?
I suppose these are the answers I need to find in order to be able to write fiction that will stand out.
I know that I don’t expect to become the next Stephen King. I don’t expect to write historical fiction like Caleb Carr, one of my favorite authors. I don’t expect to be anyone else or like anyone else. I just want to write. I can write and there’s no reason why I’m not published like famous-weblogger-girlie up there. The world is at a loss for interesting and unique modern fiction. I’m tired of the stupid girls writing about stupid girls. I’m tired of stupid girls writing about supposedly interesting girls and dates and fuck knows what else because I get lost at the title. “The Devil Wears Prada.” Come on. “Maneater” No thank you.


I guess the first step is actually finishing all of the many stories I have started.
We'll see.
Sometimes I think I'm more comfortable pointing out the wrongs in people than doing something about it.
Two wrongs don't make a right, or so I'm told.


posted at 11:56 AM

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June 28, 2003

So I watched the new Ren & Stimpy last night.

Let me preface this with how much I loved Ren & Stimpy. Loved them.

However, this new show is most disconcerting.

Ren and Stimpy are gay

Stimpy had to yell "You're the pitcher, I'm the catcher" at Ren. They humped and spooged.

It all made baby jesus cry.

Ren and Stimpy should never be gay.

What is wrong with John K. to think that making Ren and Stimpy gay makes it more "adult" and more "funny." (I put funny in quotes to highlight its irony. It was not funny.)

I'm really upset about this whole thing. I didn't laugh once during the entire show and actually had to look away once --When some guy vomited into their home and they ate it.

Since when does gross out humor make for more 'adult' programming.
This was just plain stupid and if John K. doesn't get his act together, I'm going to punch him in the balls.
posted at 2:39 PM

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June 27, 2003

If I hear one more song where the singer rhymes "Me" with "Way" I'm going to hurt someone.

Don't think I won't do it.

The word is me not meh you sonsabitches.


posted at 8:14 AM

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June 25, 2003

I haven't felt compelled to write in a while, if it's not obvious. I think part of it comes from my job. Having to write all day makes me want to avoid writing at night. I've got so many other things to do in the 4 1/2 hours I'm home and not sleeping.

I have been thinking about things to talk about though. The whole ordeal in Benton Harbor got me going for a while. Idiots burned up their own town because they were mad at a few cops. Let me reiterate. They burned. up. their. OWN town because they were mad at another township's cops. Why didn't they walk across the town line and burn up THAT city? I tell ya. Why'd they even have to start fires at all. It just makes them look like even bigger idiots. Ooh lets stab some innocent people walking down the street. That will make people listen to and respect us.
Jackasses. "This could have been prevented!" they cry. Yes. The whole thing could have been prevented if the fuckhole driving the motorcycle at speeds in excess of 120 mph pulled over in the first place.

Then the whole "Jane Roe" wants the Roe vs. Wade decision overturned because she misses her babies. A quote I read on some news site sums up this stupidity quite nicely : "We're getting our babies back."
No, unfortunately, you're not. You made a decision that will never allow you to get that baby back. Live with that decision and move on. You can't change your mind now. Too late.
I'm sorry that you regret your decision. I'm sorry that you had to go through this but don't you think that you should have thought of the consequences 30 years ago when you got pregnant for the THIRD time? Why is abortion okay for you when you really "needed" it, but now that you're older, more stable in life, etc etc. it's no longer okay? Don't take away another person's choice just because you can't handle it.

I'm back to being sick of music. I can't get enough variety in my life now that I listen to it for 9 hours a day, 5 days a week. I think I need to start getting full albums and switching those out instead of making mixed cds....I don't know. Which leads me to another point of contention in my life. The new Metallica album, St. Anger.
I heard parts of it online and the St. Anger song on the radio. I can't explain the feelings I feel when I hear this song. It ranges from repulsion to laughter to rockin' out. It's a mix of manic emotions that confuse me. The singing, on the stuff that I have heard, sounds like new Metallica. Cheese-ball. Corny. Sell out sing-songy annoying Hetfield. The music makes me raise my fists in a salute to rock. They wanted to get back to their roots, but why couldn't they get it right? They did 4 amazing, perfect albums before they went down the shitter. You'd think they'd remember how to rock. I hope to pick this album up and be proven wrong. I hope this album is a conglomoration of perfect riffs at break-neck speeds with a pounding, slamming drumbeat.
I hope, because what I have heard so far is a let down.
Next, they need to start growing their hair out.

I have been thinking of eating only peppercorns for snacks. It will make my mouth hot and make me not want to eat anything else for the rest of the day all while I'm pouring three gallons of water down my throat. This is my plan for next week.

I hurt my back doing something (what I have no idea, maybe crocheting a little too frantically?? I don't know) and haven't been able to move for a few days. The weekend consisted of me walking around hunched over like an 80 year old woman with osteoporosis. I've had a lot of time to think but also a lot of time to complain.
I'm getting really good at it. Plus, I've been crotchety because I haven't been able to go walking. I usually walk about 2-3 miles a night and when you get out of a routine like that, it really bothers you. Thankfully, though, it's starting to get better. My stomach is hurting from my hunching and I really hate having to pop advil and tylenol like candy. They laughed at me at work when I brought in my heating pad. Believe me, you do not realize how many things require your back muscles -- sneezing, breathing, getting up out of a chair...it all requires great effort on my part. *sigh*

I also would like to have a word with God or his weather maker on this 96 degree with a heat index of 106 weather we're having.
I have an old apartment and my air conditioners can not keep up. Thank you. Thank god my office is a crisp 69 degrees. *Mmmm*


I saw a movie last week called 28 days later and it scared the piss out of me. I don't get scared anymore, really, and this one got me right through the core.
Infected "zombies" running after you, getting infected after 10 seconds, no one left besides you and a couple of other people = a recipe for amanda's nightmares.
Fuck. I swear, this movie contains elements of every single one of my fears. I was fine in the theatre, but man, that ride home was a doozy. I had an intense desire to board up my windows but I knew I was acting irrationally, so I went to bed.

Now, between the zombie nightmares and the bounty hunter nightmares, it's a wonder I get any sleep at all.

Tonight, I will try to remember to post some pictures of new things:
my new funky glasses
and some other stuff I can't remember.
Thanks.
posted at 11:23 AM

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June 16, 2003

Because I can't seem to get my shit in gear, I'll just revert back to this old thing.

I planned on redesigning but I haven't the time right now. Though, I'm still working on it.

PS: for everyone searching my page for variations on pictures of a sexy "big pousy"... I thought I'd let you know it's spelled 'p-u-s-s-y'. Thanks.


posted at 8:41 AM

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June 04, 2003

I had a job offer this week.
It was from a guy named Kevin at Cant..maybe I shouldn't say the name. Anyway, it was an establishment in Lake Orion. The interview was for some lousy data entry position -- some bullshit job I wanted to take just because I need the money.
The interview went something like this:
Kevin: "You're a copywriter. Why do you want this job?"
Me: (thinking: because I'm broke.) (saying:) Well, I'm going to be attending graduate school in the fall and I want an opportunity that will allow me the freedom to persue my scholastic goals all the while sharpening and honing my administrative skills.
Kevin: "So what makes me think that you won't leave the minute a copywriter job opens up?"
Me: (thinking: I will, you ass.) (saying:) Because a copywriter position would not fit into my current school schedule and not allow me the opportunity.blabhalbhalbhalabha.

Whatever. So I go camping, dreading all the while getting that phone call from Kevin. Lo and behold, Monday 8am I get a call. He offers me the position. I can't in my right mind say no because (lets all say it together) I need the money.
Kevin asks, "when can you start?"
"Oh, I can start on Monday," I reply.
"Well, that's not gonna work. I need you to start tomorrow or not at all."
Taken aback, I mumble "okay" and stammer for a few more seconds.
"Well what do you have planned that's so important?"
"Uh....(thinking up an excuse) doctors appointments, allergist, stuff like that." (thinking: Did you just fucking ask me what I'm doing in my private time you ass?)
"Ah I don't think those are all day appointments. You can rechedule."
"Uh...uh..ok"

After I got the details, I hung up and sat there stunned. He just told me to reschedule my appointments. Fictious appointments, yes but they're mine!
Did I mention that he only offered me 8 dollars an hour and no benefits.
And that the job was customer service, data entry, reception and online chat moderator sometimes web designer.
FOR EIGHT FUCKING DOLLARS AN HOUR!

I called him back and told him I didn't think it would be a good fit for us.

So since that moment, I felt horrible. I turned down a job I desperately needed. I'm kicking my own ass. I'm freaking out. So then, around 11pm, I check my email and there's a message from a guy I used to work with at Creative Marketing. "Hey what's up?" he says. Turns out he's offering me a job at his new company, do I want it? A copywriter job. It's mine but he has to know asap.
I think I let a little pee come out.

I talked to him today and I got the job. Let me repeat...I GOT THE MOTHERFUCKING JOB BABY.
It's for a small company doing brochures and other sorts of advertising materials. They don't have any other copywriters. I will be in charge of setting up the entire program and eventually training other copywriters.
Can I get a hell yeah? Can I get an a-men?

I can't believe it. Just as I was ready to give up, something came through. I tell ya. I'm not much of a religious person but I'm starting to believe in something.
I'll be writing full time again on Monday, hallelujah!

So with that said, here's some pictures.

This is my stuffed cat I am Pete Townshend. Doesn't he just make you laugh?
He's saying "HEEEEEEEE"



I had to buy this ketchup. It asks me to employ it in my kitchen. I just got a job and the poor ketchup needs a job. Who am I to deny ketchup? I eat it on everything. I will give it a job. hallelujah!




The infamous trtl in downtown Detroit. TRTL.
Look it up if you're unfamiliar. If you're from the Detroit area, take a look around downtown and see how many trtl's or actual turtles you can spot. It's fun. Spot the trtl!\



Interesting political building downtown.


That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
I got a job baby!!
(PS, plus, I will get my own office with a fucking door! AND internet access...oh lordy lordy!)
posted at 12:39 AM

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June 01, 2003

My camping weekend was a bust. No bike riding was had. No nature trail walking was had. No nothing. Lousy Rain.
Lousy 30 degree weather. IN MAY!
I spent Saturday freezing my ass off and sleeping. Oh I went to this little town named something that started with a B that looked like a poor man's Traverse City. I froze. I burned my entire tongue on a cup of hot chocolate. I got a grinning primitive-art cat that I named "I Am Pete Townshend." He's grinning really large, showing all of his primitive-cat art teeth. It makes me laugh every time I see it.
What else? Oh. Well, because it was -48 degrees out, we had the piddly little camper heater running. It actually heated up the main part of the camper nicely but completely ignored my sleeping portion of the camper (the smaller bed on the floorplan if you clicked the link. Also, it's not exactly the layout of the camper, but it's the closest i could find. instead of where the bathtub is, there's a fridge and the bathroom is on an angle to include a shower. So then where the fridge is in that layout, it's cabinets and stuff. Like you care. Anyway) In my section of the camper, from body heat and the piddly heater running and the heated mattress, condensation decided to build up on the inside of the pop-out part and rain on me in the middle of the night. Fucking hell. I was really upset about this.
Even though the weekend was cold as fuck and raining inside and out, I really love The Pinery. It's absolutely gorgeous. I think I will be going back in August.

I took some pictures on my parents camera, but the battery died (several times) and I was unable to get them transferred over. Among them include some pictures from the local flea market, a giant metal great dane, a tree partially chewed up by a beaver and some night time shots of the river.

I really had a good time, honest. I swear. Ok, it sort of sucked but I am planning on going back so the Pinery gets a second chance.

Meanwhile, on the way home, I saw some vodka with chili peppers resting happily in the bottle at the duty free shop. I have coveted said vodka since 3pm. I bet it tastes like ass but my mind makes me think it's good. Yum.

Otherwise, I'm sleepy, moody, hungry and ...tired angry stressed out.Maybe I should go to bed 10pm tonight. Wee.



posted at 9:29 PM

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