Born to hand-jive, Baby.

Wednesday, December 29, 2004

Working through some holidays

I'm going to work this week, in between Christmas and the New Year. Although I don't celebrate the Christmas holiday, I completely enjoy having a couple of days off surrounding that day. In fact, I might enjoy that time off more than many people do, since I don't have all that holiday stress that people wear from December 1-25. However, I find it pretty irritating to go from a few very easy days of no work to 3 in-between days of work, knowing that I'll have some nice time off coming up. My motivation at the workplace this week is about as scarce as staff in my workplace this week.

And wow! that's a whiny paragraph! Keep Moving, Miss Kate.

This evening, I went with my family to a restaurant that we'd not tried before. Passion fruit juice + tequila + ginger + jalepeno is a good combination. Cheese + wild mushrooms is another combo I recommend. I ate almost as much cheese tonite as I ate at NYE a few years ago. On that particular New Year's Day, I woke up with a belly ache that lasted until nighttime. Hopefully I'll do better tomorrow, since I have to go to work and all. And since I'm doing enough bellyaching already.

I'm reading The Life of Pi -- and it's g-double-o-d. If I stop now, I might be able to read a chapter before going to sleep. So, bon nuit.

Tuesday, December 28, 2004

Posting, the First

I've been reading the blogs of my friends and listening to them speak about the writing. I am interested in what a different picture I get of a person by reading his or her writing than just by living with the person. I wonder if by writing regularly, I can get that kind of different perspective on myself.
I imagine that this blog will be pretty boring to others. I am not clever like my friends and I have the feeling that I'm much more self-centered than they are -- I'll wait to see if what I write shows that to be true.
When I was in college studying literature, one of my friends and I really wanted to be writers. I decided that to be a writer, I needed to see and experience every kind of thing that I possibly could. At the time, that meant drinking a lot, smoking a lot, talking smack a lot, and sleeping very little. Somehow I also worked in a couple of rides in two-seater planes and on a sailboat. And somehow I didn't do the writing for which all of that experience was supposedly priming me.
Maybe writing requires a more stable mind. Maybe writing can help me produce a more stable mind. I have lots of things to get out of my head and maybe I can do it here. I hope that I'll be able to clear most of the voices out of my head so that I can hear my own -- or at least get enough of them to shut up so I can take count.