Ever Have One of Those Blogs ... ?

Yeah.  This is one of those entries.  You know, the ones where the author clearly has nothing, whatever, to say, but goes ahead and posts anyway.

I got nothin'.

I should be writing ... or maybe editing ... but I'm not doing either.  I should be relaxed and taking advantage of this time I have while I have it, because I'll regret it later when I don't have it anymore.  I just can't.  I don't have the drive, the creative flow.  There's not much going on in my head.  I can't do anything except sit and think about my personal crap.

I want to do something, but I've got nothing.

I'm more than halfway through the edits of Ghost Hunters now.  I believe they're going well; I think it's a much stronger piece now than it was before we started.  My wonderful wife has done a phenomenal job pointing out the areas of weakness and helping me get it up to snuff.  But we've done nothing for several days now, and it's my fault.  She's offered to work on it, and I just ... ain't there.

Witch Hunt is going stale right before my eyes.  I have a few more chapters plotted out but I've not written a word.  I don't know why.  Worry has a tendency to kill your creativity.  I do a lot of that lately.

So, I figured I'd write something else.  I haven't.  Maybe it'll happen sometime soon.  Goodness knows, I need that bright spot, that release in my life.  Hopefully the throes of this agony will ease over the weekend so I can get something down.  I feel like a completely useless lump right now.  And I hate that.

Toldja it'd be one of those posts.

Anyone have any interesting software I can review?

Thanks to all our constant supporters for your constant support.  We love you and appreciate you.  Happy Valentines day to all the happy couples out there.

-JDT-

Technorati Tags: blogging,life,work,writing,random thoughts

Quick Update

My thing at 10:00 a.m. this morning went well, despite the hazardous driving conditions. My thanks to all of you that prayed and supported me during that time. I won’t know how it pans out, but that’s another matter all together.

As for me, I’ve been doodling around with Linux today for the most part. I’ve downloaded a bunch o’ LiveCDs and spent some time today burning them. Some of them actually failed, just DOA. I think those may have problems with the image. I’ll download it again when I can and give it a second try … maybe. They don’t give CDs away.

So far the only one that goes off without a hitch is Mandriva. Fedora worked too, but not as nicely. Nothing has detected my wireless card, either. I can’t get on the network via live CD, so hopefully the actual installation will give me a better chance to configure the Windows driver with NDISwrapper or something. I hope. I pray.

Pff. I should be writing. I’m sorry, but that’s going to have to wait until tomorrow, y’all. I hope that’s okay.

I might have new fiction by then, or I may have more Witch Hunt. I hope to edit a couple of more chapters of Ghost Hunters too.

Oh, and I’ll try and give you more detail on what happened with my Linux try-outs later this week. If I have time between all the running around and writing I’m going to do. (I’m trying to pressure myself into being productive.)

Anyway, thanks to all, and God bless.

-JDT-

Rising Tension

We're getting into some tense times, now. Things are very dicey for us at the moment. Those of you that know our situation, I'm afraid I have to call on you again to support us, if you will, in prayer.

Tomorrow is another glimmer of hope. It's a thin thread, and we really need it. Tomorrow at 10 a.m. if you have time to pray, please do. I want to thank you all in advance for your loving kindness and suffering through posts like this one.

Our situation has to change, really soon. Really soon.

Anyway, I hope to have something less cryptic and depressing later. For now, I have to try and prepare for tomorrow.

Thank you, everyone.

-JDT-

Technorati Tags: life, random thoughts, work

Well, All Done

Today went better than yesterday in some respects.  I found out some things that were less than encouraging, but it did go better than yesterday.  Overall.

Tomorrow the process starts again.  *Sigh.*

Okay, for those who care, I'm about 1000 words into Witch Hunt chapter 4.  I'm not feelin' it right now, but I'm pluggin' along just the same.  Sorry for the long delay, and I hope to have something kicked out by the end of the week.  At this pace I can't promise anything, but I'd like to.

Back on my head.  Thanks to all for the outpouring of support, love and prayers.  If I had words to tell you how grateful we are, I'd write them.  I just don't.  Please know we love you all and are grateful for you.

Peace, all.

-JDT-

Technorati Tags: life, random thoughts, work

One Down, One to Go ...

Well, one super-huge event is passed.  It was okay.  Not as bad as I imagined it could be, but I probably could've done better than I did.  I just believe in honesty first, and sometimes that philosophy costs me.  I guess time will tell; I should have a definitive answer by week's end on this one.

In the meantime, I have one more to get through tomorrow.  A lot to do yet to prepare for it.  I have to try and figure out who it is I'm going to see.  It's also a long haul and after today, I'm not looking as much forward to it as I thought.  But I'm trying to go in with head and spirits held high and do the best I can.

For all of you praying and pouring yourselves out in support of us, please know we love you and appreciate all you're doing.  I really mean that.  We're so grateful to have such wonderful friends around us to get us through, no matter how things turn out.

I'll try to update again tomorrow when I get back.  By then I should have two things in the hopper; I won't know about either of them until the middle of next month or later, though.

Thank you so much, gracious people.  Maybe someday I'll have the honor of supporting you in  your hour of need.  I pray your hour of need never comes, though, and you'll have to suffice with my friendship.

God bless you all.

-JDT-

Technorati Tags: work, life, random thoughts

PANIC!

In about 14 hours, something huge is going to happen for me, and I'm scared to death.  Actually, the next two days are huge for me, perhaps the entire week.  I know for sure about Monday and Tuesday, but I don't know yet about what else may come.  But, tomorrow's big.

I don't know if it's good or bad; it's just ... there.  I don't know what I can do to calm myself down, but I had every intention of just writing today away.  I don't think that's going to happen, but I probably will edit some more of Ghost Hunters before I go to bed.  Trying to sleep should be fun.

I want to thank you all for your support.  If you're the praying type, please pray for me tomorrow at about 9:00 a.m. Central Standard Time (if you see this post before that, of course).  If you're not the praying type ... well, I'll pray for you then.  ;)

God bless, everyone.  Here's hoping something good happens really, really soon.

-JDT-

Technorati Tags: life, random thoughts, work

A Glimmer of Hope

I don't know if it's the light at the end of the tunnel or just the headlight of the oncoming train, but I see a glimmer in the distance.  I can only pray it's not too late for us.

Those of you who know our private situation know what I'm talking about.  Those of you that don't, well ... if you pray, please pray for us.  Things could be turning around, if God is willing.  There's a couple of things on the horizon, none of which involve being a famous and rich published author, but we're grateful just the same.  As with all things, there's always a catch, and it may yet come to naught, but at least there's a bright spot.

God bless, all, and thank you for all your support.

-JDT-

Technorati Tags: life, random thoughts, work

The Dream Job

I found a blog today on WP which I found extremely interesting.  I didn't find it interesting for its content, because it was basically a log of someone's snacking habits, but I did like what she did for a living.

She was an editorial assistant and writer, working from home.

She occasionally had to go into the office, I'm sure, but she did most of her work from home.  She had time to get up, work out, blog like heck, and write.  She did her work.  She lives in New York, and because she's an editorial assistant, the hardest thing I've had to do in a long time was click away from her blog.  I wanted so bad to blogroll it, put it in the "Writer's Resources" listing I have in my sidebar, leave her a comment and ask her to check out my work ... I wanted to so bad.

In the end, I just ... clicked away.  I found someone online that has my dream job, that could have provided me (maybe, not that she could or would, but maybe) with a contact in the industry I'm trying desperately to get into (i.e., give me a short path to fame, fortune and laziness), or at least might have pointed me to someone she knows that could/would.  Instead, I clicked away, because, in part, I felt it was not my place to try and leverage that; she doesn't know me from Adam, and probably knows him better; her blog wasn't about writing and the industry or the craft; and I wouldn't like it if someone tried to leverage me without knowing me.  I clicked away.

Immediately, I regretted it.  I went as fast and my mouse would go back to the Dashboard where I'd seen the entry in the first place.  I frantically searched for her blog again, struggling to remember what it was called ...

Nothing.  Gone.  Poof.  I blew it.

I don't regret too much not bugging her, but I do regret not at least dropping a quick note to someone that does what I want to do, who has found a way to make a living writing from home.  I'd love to do it, and if she by chance finds this blog somehow (fat chance of that), then ... feel free to drop me a line.  Say hey.  Tell me how you did it.  Tell me what I could do to do it too.

*Sigh.*

Regrets ... I has dem.

-JDT-

Technorati Tags: writing, blogging, random thoughts, work

Too Long Away ...

I'm sorry for being quiet for so long, blogosphere.  I know you don't need my input to carry on, and I'm trying like hell not to be a traffic whore (thanks to Stranger for that term), but I'd started to garner a readership with my "Ghost Hunters" tale and I'm losing you all now (all three or four of you).

On the bright side, however, I have a job interview today with the company that I've been contracting for since November of 2006.  This is a big day for my family and me, because it's the first legitimate opportunity I've had at a full-time, salary-and-benefits position in more than five years.  Needless to say, we're gun-shy about getting too happy, but we have a bit of hope.  Our hopes have been dashed before though, so we season that with a grain of skepticism and realism.  The pay rate may stand as a minor barrier between me and the offer, but we'll see.  Wish me luck, y'all.

So anyway, stay tuned.  I have every intention of posting the continuing saga of JD, Dillon and Wendy tonight and hopefully a couple of more segments over the weekend.  If you've enjoyed the story, come back and keep reading.  And thanks for your patience.

-JDT-

Technorati Tags: life, writing, work

Bathroom Contemplation

I dragged hard on my smoke like it was saving my life instead of taking it, listening to the crackling death throes of the paper and tobacco as they were swallowed alive by the advancing flames on the fast-shrinking cancer stick. I sat on the toilet seat, leaning against the vanity to my left the way a sack of sawdust propped against the dusty planks of a barn leans -- heavy, dead weight. I was staring into the distance right in front of my nose and unaware of my surroundings. The last couple of days haven't been pleasant for me, I pondered, and I realized I was tired.

I felt funny for a while; I wasn't really sure how long. It might've started when I got back from Puerto Rico, but maybe not. A slight post-nasal-drip kind of feeling. As of Wednesday night, I wasn't feeling well, and I was afraid that I might be well on my way to another bout of cold or flu symptoms. By Thursday morning I had a full-on runny nose and itchy, watery eyes. Allergies, I told myself, nothing more. The antihistamine I'd popped Wednesday night helped me sleep if nothing else, but I didn't feel any better or worse in the morning. I was grateful for that.

Being sick for the fourth time since the calendar rolled to 2007 excites me about as much as Amish porn. Amish porn, that's funny. I borrowed that one from a Sports Illustrated writer. I forget who now.

I dragged that cigarette hard enough to make it beg for mercy again and continued staring at those yellow, nicotine-crusted walls. Gotta wash 'em soon, I reprimanded myself.

The drive home had been hell. For me, it was literally hell. Hot, choked with humidity and smog, traffic moving like molasses in winter. I sat through the usual bout of congestion on the road trying to get home, but then I made a few disastrous decisions that left me deeper and deeper in the soup the farther along I went. First, I cut off of my usual side-road route and figured sticking to the main road would be faster. After about a 10 minute wait to get through the juncture of IL Rts. 43 and 176, I continued north behind a glut of cars all doing exactly 5 miles an hour UNDER the 35 mph speed limit. When I finally broke free from that mess, I moved north much faster, and came to the junction of routes 137 and 43.

Usually I take 137 west and head north again on another side road. But the line of traffic to turn left on 137 probably would have left me sitting at that intersection through 2 cycles of the light. I opted to continue north on 43.

I got less than a mile farther before traffic stopped.

43 is notorious for not being able to handle the traffic. Abbott Laboratories is surrounded, at their main campus, by a nice, 3-lane wide stretch, but at the next intersection north, it bottlenecks down to two lanes again. I creeped and crawled forward, inchworming along, tempted to turn around against oncoming traffic, but knowing better. I opted, for some stupid reason I can't explain to this day, not to turn around when I had the chance. I assumed, more stupidly, that the authorities would have the problem cleared soon and I'd be happily on my way.

I sat there for another 45 minutes before going far enough ahead to see the problem: a stalled construction truck, partially blocking the right lane. The cop that was standing around picking his nose and ass, looking stupid and arrogant, was blocking the rest of it. So the two lanes were compressed to one at the height of rush hour.

It took me an hour and twenty minutes to make a drive that normally, in traffic, takes 40 or 45 minutes.

I was so wound up by the time I got home I was spitting venom, blood chemistry jacked through the roof, and wanting more than anything in life itself to hit something, hard. My poor, stout-hearted wife stood and listened to me bitch, only uttering sympathies, while I shook with frustration and pent fury.

I tell myself I don't have road rage because I don't slam my car into anyone, I don't pull out a crow bar and bash anyone's vehicle or head, I don't whip out a 9mm weapon and send someone to their Maker. All I do is get wound up a bit and vent through my considerable mouth. I yell, scream, and occasionally, I bang things -- steering wheel, bed, couch -- whatever's handy. But I don't have road rage. The road enrages me, but I don't have road rage.

That's not really true. The road has nothing to do with it; it's the morons ON the road that piss me off.

I sucked on that cigarette, drinking the life out of it as a spider drains a fly. The filter flashed suddenly and burned the holy shit out of my lips and fingers where I held it. I cursed loudly through clenched teeth and ran the hot fiberglass under cold water, then dropped it into the dirty, ash-crusted salad dressing jar serving as a butt-kit.

Bad day. Bad couple of days if you count the cold, hay-fever, whatever the hell it is.

I stood up to leave the bathroom, dropping the toilet lid down. Toilet does double-duty. We smoke in the bathroom to keep the smoke out of the kids' faces. That makes for cruddy, yellow walls and no place to sit in an apartment-sized bathroom, so the toilet is a place to drop your ass no matter the reason you're there. Problem is, the lid is convex, so you can't put a caboose as big as mine on it or it'll crack. So we sit there on the pot whether we're using it or not. I was staring at the water just before the lid closed and I swear to God the toilet winked it's hole-eye at me.

Bad day. Real bad.

So I lifted that lid and sat back down, leaning against the vanity just to my left the way a sack of sawdust propped against the dusty planks of a barn leans -- heavy, dead weight. I ripped another victim from the pack of Ultra-Lights and sparked it, dragging hard and tired on that S.O.B. like it was the last one on earth.

-JDT-

I Owe, I Owe, So Off to Work I Go

There are so many things in life I hate. I wish I could list them all for you, and then you'd get an idea of why I'm the miserable old bastard I am.

I pulled out onto the road leading out of the campus where I work today at 4:45 p.m. The first half mile of my trip was normal; nothing thereafter was, however.

I came upon a line of traffic backed up at the light on the first intersection with a road that didn't go into another campus in the commercial area. The miniature river of red tail lights winked at me in defiant mockery. I hit the brakes and rode them the rest of the way to the intersection. I was greeted there by another, slow-moving inchworm of traffic that snailed its way down the winding, two-lane road. About another half mile up, the traffic ceased movement altogether.

I've dealt with nasty traffic on this particular stretch of road before. It slaloms through the swank Riverwoods area and is patrolled often and well by police eager to raise revenues and keep wealthy homeowners from complaining. The 35 mph speed is best observed, particularly at high-traffic times. A pull-over not only costs the one being pulled over time and money, it can stop or delay the movement of the road for miles in both directions.

I let my foot off the brake a few times and realized I wasn't going to get home early, after all.

I thought, initially, that perhaps the additional flow was due to holiday-seekers sneaking out early to jump on their four-day weekend. A huge number of people will take the Friday before a three-day weekend off (or the Monday following) and extend their leisure. Still, the traffic was thick and crawling in BOTH directions ... highly unusual. I let up and the brake, crept 10 feet, and stopped again. I heard a sound and realized I'd LOUDLY sighed in resigned exasperation. Then I heard another sound.

A woman in a minivan trying to turn onto the crossroad to my left was yammering at me. "Does this Portwine street go to Lake Cook Road??" her irritatingly grating voice intruded into my solitude. "I have no idea," I sneered, knowing full well it didn't. She rolled her eyes in frustration and let her ham hock of a paw drop hard onto her steering wheel. She'd know soon enough, and the very road she was turning from was the one that led to the street she sought. What am I, I thought, Tom-Tom? 411? Get a frickin' MAP, I thought, and called my wife.

The kids were screaming in the background. She put the phone down and I heard a bellowing, followed by a few seconds of silence behind it like a boat's wake. But before the conversation resumed, the clamor started again.

More bellowing. A threat is issued. A few seconds of quiet. Phone conversation continues. Cacophony in the background a few seconds after that.

I let the brake off and crept some more. I wondered how far I'd gone. It appeared to be less than six miles. It took me nearly forty minutes.

My wife told me she had a headache. More caterwauling in the background. Another threat, followed by a shouted imperative to get off the bed. Reiteration of the headache. I offer to pick up dinner and immediately regret my offer. In two days, I've spent a total of three or four hours with her and the kids. I ask if they want to go with me and offer to pick them up, then creep some more. Not really, she says. See you when you get home.

I hang up, trying to have some mercy on her. I know from headaches; I get migraines triggered by sinusitis. It's a joy. If she's got a headache, and the kids are out of control ... well, I can only say it was God's grace that it was her at home and not me.

Let the foot off the brake. Creep. Stop. Wait. Creep. Stop. Wait. Wait some more. Still more. Creep ahead.

Nearly an hour in the car now, and I haven't gone even seven of the TWENTY miles I have to traverse to get home. The weather was warm, much warmer than I wanted, but the wind was blowing stoutly without becoming that obnoxious, uneducated and uncouth wind so common in the Chicago area. With both windows down, I didn't need the non-existent air conditioner ... thank God.

I blew air through pursed lips and listened to them slap together, effectively giving a raspberry to everyone that cared. I heard a man speaking over his hip-hop into his cell phone declare that he HAD come from [Route] 60, and where the fuck is he now?? I wondered who was on the other end of that conversation. Spouse? Co-worker? Mistress? Drug dealer? Then it came to me -- I didn't care.

Let the foot off the brake. Move a whopping 20 feet this time. Then again. Hmm. I'd rounded a bend in the road and from my vantage point at the crest of what passes for a hill in Illinois I could see the red and blue flashers blazing far distant from me. They appeared to be in the middle of the next major intersection, cutting off westbound traffic and forcing cars to go either north or south ... onto the very street where I was slugging my way home.

It took me another twenty minutes of inching along to finally reach that intersection. A few seconds before I did, two police cruisers floated lazily past me going south. The first had his window down, and all I could hear was the cackling laughter spilling out of his mouth and into the cars of the people he was passing. I wondered what could have been so funny. A maiming in the accident that had traffic blocked? A death, perhaps? Or just the idea of the rest of us being stuck in the mess while he can turn on his lights and rush to Dunkin' Donuts for another dozen? Then it came to me -- I didn't care.

Two hours and twenty-three minutes later, I finally walked into my house. I was greeted by my glass-eyed wife and, when his video game permitted, by my son. And soon, it's off to bed. So despite leaving twenty minutes early, I was nearly two hours later.

Just one of the things on that long list of things I hate. Traffic.

It's probably near the top.

-JDT-

Better to Have It and Not Need It ...

My wife has an expression she's used from time to time, and it absolutely drives me nuts when she does:

"It's better to have it and not need it, than to need it and not have it."

God, I hate it. Whenever she starts to say it, I interrupt her, loudly, demanding that she NOT finish that (insert expletive here) tripe in my presence.

She used to say it to me in response to my queries about why her purse was always so large, and so friggin' heavy. She'd go through a brief inventory of what's in there, and shrug at me. And when I asked why she'd carry so much crap, she'd say it. "It's better to have it and not need it, than to need it and not have it."

Ugh!! I'd grit my teeth and walk away mumbling about platitudes and crap-ass old timer "wisdom" that had absolutely no relevance if the human being saying it would just use their God-given brain for a change.

Not that long ago, I was carrying my lunch to work with me in my backpack and to save hassle and noise, I decided to drop the items directly into the cavity rather than put them in a bag or lunch carrier and then throw it in there. I was having egg salad, ready-made from our grocery delivery service's inventory, and some crackers to top it off. Off to work I went, happy it was Friday, and then down into the computer lab where I've been doing most of my work for the last several weeks. Lunch time rolled around and I opened my backpack to discover that my egg salad container, which was still sealed and unopened, had leaked like a colander all over my backpack. Arrrghh!! Whatta mess!!

I wiped it out the best I could and took it home to my loving spouse, who promptly emptied the contents into a grocery bag, washed it and threw it in the dryer for me. The following Sunday, I was ready to reload it and take it back to work with me on Monday.

As I went through the items, I realized how much junk and sundries I'd accumulated in the couple of months since I got the backpack. I had stuff in there like cold medicine, because I'd been so sick so often this year; glasses cleaning cloths; some lens cleaning fluid which doesn't work very well; a Tide-to-Go pen for those annoying and unexpected stains; a pocket-sized Bible; a tiny 3" x 5" notebook for those inspirations that come out of the blue; my migraine kit; a couple of pencils and pens I'd forgotten about; a few USB flash drives (I don't leave home without them); and a lint "brush" (which was really a roll of inside-out masking tape cut into toilet paper-like squares).

As I looked over the junk in the grocery bag, I decided I wasn't going to put everything back in. I left out a couple of the USB flash drives; I took out the cold medicines; I dumped the lens cleaning fluid; and I left out the lint brush. I didn't need that crap; most of it was sitting and collecting dust anyway. I didn't use it, and the stuff I was left with, except the Bible, I did use most days. Satisfied that I'd pared down to the bare essentials, I loaded the backpack and went my merry way on Monday.

Today, a week later, I'm at work and slaving away over a network that doesn't connect, and I'm waiting to acquire an IP address from the company LAN, and it's not happening. I look down, and what do my eyes behold?

Lint. A ton of it. All over my nice, bone-colored pants.

Jeez, I groan inwardly, how long have I been like this? Who saw me looking like a damned dryer filter?? This is so embarrassing!

Mortified but alone, I decide to reach for my lint brush to get it cleaned off.

Just as I start to unzip my backpack, a strangely mocking voice rolled through my head, giggling and lilting a tease through the recesses of my mind.

Better to have it and not need it ...

I couldn't help myself -- I burst out laughing aloud, alone in the echoing lab, with only the humming, non-functional computers to witness the toll of irony on my mind and soul. I wiped the tears from my eyes when I could finally control myself, and laid my head down on the table where I was working to ponder how the universe conspires against me at every turn.

The lint brush is going back into the backpack tomorrow, of course.

Sick Again

I'm sick, and I want to feel better.

I'm not terribly sick, the way I was last time ... which wasn't all that long ago. I figured I was done for the season. Not so, well-wishers, not so. I'm sick again, and I hate it. I'm determined not to let it get me, though. It doesn't seem as aggressive as the last bout of flu I had, so maybe this is a run of the mill cold. I can't tell yet. I'm pounding vitamin C and B complex, and I'm eating soups and drinking as much fluid as I can during the day to stay atop it. I'm a bit more phlegmy than I was yesterday, but it's not bad. I don't smoke while I'm at work, and maybe that will help too. I'm not traipsing out into the sub-zero or single-digit temperatures to indulge my dirty habit, but I do have to deal with it every morning and every evening when it's time to do the driving. Nothing can be done about that, unfortunately.

=======================

On a different topic, I'm considering writing a story. I don't know if it will be a story or a book, but it will be something like a story or a book. I have a new technique I want to try (okay, it's not new, but it's new to me and I've never tried anything even remotely like it). All I need is a good idea to support the style, and I'm all set. Heh. It will be a challenge to try and write in a voice I've never used before, but then again, I've never written in my own voice, either. I usually use what I've come to think of as my "writing" voice, but it's really not me. It's not hard for me to slip into it, but I don't really want to do that either.

So, into yet another style I go. I'm still trying to do "find my voice" and that's not really a great way to do it. Like drawing, if I only mimic other artists, I will never be anything but a mimic. And, I will only amplify the mistakes of that artist, never learn why the artist (whom, I presume, I admire enough to imitate) made the decisions, took the shortcuts, and chose to do the things they did. Instead, I learn only what they do. So it is with a writing style, I would imagine. The prose you use is something unique to the individual, and developing that "voice" (within the confines of good general rules of prose, grammar, etc.) can only be hindered by imitation of others. I think. On the other hand, I really, really want to write like that, and I can't wait to give it a try. If nothing else, it may teach me that what I actually like is reading that style, and writing it is best left to those who do it well.

We'll see.

On the subject of art, I still haven't drawn anything, although I must confess I've been sketching occasionally at work. Nothing where I'm cheating the employer; while I wait for other things to happen during the course of my job, I often sketch. Just heads, or maybe hands, or squirrels (I'm obsessed with successfully rendering a cartoon squirrel for some reason). I don't do full body sketches, and don't let myself become so preoccupied with drawing that I don't pay attention to what I'm doing. Still, it feels good to do it, and yes, I am disappointed with the results because I've been absolutely stagnant for more than a year. Alas, such is my life and how it goes. Nevertheless, sketching is better than nothing at all, and since it feels good, I'll probably try to find time to keep doing it through the day. If nothing else, I can start taking lunch and doing it, so long as I don't go over my allotted time slot. No one will notice, or care, I don't think. Then I won't feel so guilty about drawing at home, when I know I should be completing the $400 training I've paid for but haven't used yet. Or blogging.

Guilt is, after all, one of the major reasons I don't draw. I know it's true, but I don't know how to eliminate it or even minimize it's impact. I've been in such an artistic funk for so long, I haven't even broken out my supplies. I can't begin to tell you how frustrating that must be for my wife, but I can't help it. I can always think of something better to do when I get home, be it play with the kids, study the training I'm supposed to be studying, reading a book (about drawing, usually), or watching my favorite show. Or blogging.

Well, I don't have much to say. If you're reading this and you're a praying person, please pray for me and my health. If you don't, that's fine -- I'll be praying for you. :)

-JDT-

"It Rained on our Parade"

She walked to the tall, gleaming stainless steel rack and took one of the blue, hard plastic trays from the stack, yanking mightily to finally break it free. She shook her head in disgust as she stepped lightly to the shorter shelf loaded full with Chicago Sun-Times newspapers. She bent over the full-color front page, reading the grim headline.

"IT RAINED ON OUR PARADE", the paper pronounced, with a picture of a rain-soaked and saddened Brian Urlacher blazened across the tabloid-sized page.

"Yes, it certainly did," the woman softly muttered. At that, I could not contain the giggle that burst from my lips and shook me the whole way into the expansive cafeteria.

Most of the time, the huge area is busy with people chattering and ordering, gathering their sundries for breakfast, recounting their weekends. Friday, February 2, 2007, it was absolutely bustling with people abuzz about the upcoming Super Bowl, the blaring music of the long-dead "Super Bowl Shuffle" from 1986 roared over the speaker system and all the blue-and-orange clad workers were dancing and toe-tapping as they stood awaiting service at either the food prep counter or the registers. It was an absolute middle eastern market, filled with laughter, joviality and plans for victory parties and celebrations to come. There was much boasting and recollection of the "glory days" of the last time a Chicago team had gone to a Super Bowl. The anticipation of again returning as conquerors was tingling through the air.

Today, the cafeteria was an absolute morgue.

No one spoke as they moved monotonously through the register line -- which was short and somber. The food preparation area was nearly deserted. A few hushed whispers of those that clearly aren't football fans wisped through the air, drown out by the blasting furnaces working against the sub-zero weather in the expansive, high-ceiling auditorium.

I laughed aloud as I gathered my breakfast -- an apple fritter, a rare treat for myself, and hot coffee to warm the chill in my bones from the frosty cold outside. I saw the same shaved-headed lad who works the registers most mornings today, quiet but friendly, no longer pushing his audio bytes of various plays from throughout the Bears' season through the laptop he'd brought in on Friday. I chuckled from my belly as I moved through the line and paid my total, watching the downcast, hollow eyes, the long faces, the lack of smiles. The auditorium was so quiet; no one sat in the dining area. No one was laughing. No one was wearing any Bears jackets, hats, pins, ties, belts, buttons, sweaters. And no one seemed to be buying newspapers, for some reason.

"IT RAINED ON OUR PARADE."

"Yes, it certainly did," she agreed. And I laughed aloud again recalling it.

I laughed all the way back to my desk -- up a flight of stairs, a walk of a few hundred feet, and around a corner. I suspect I'll laugh a lot today, as people bemoan the death knell of the Bears' Super Bowl run. And I can see in their eyes, in their worried tones and furrowed brows, that they wonder if it will be another 21 years before they can boast and brag again about the "Monsters of the Midway."

I hope so.

-JDT-

The Weekend in Review Preview

When I got home from work last night, I had great ambitions.

There were three things that I really wanted to do. Two were creative; one was just plain fun. But I’m not going to get into that last one, so you don’t have to hear about that. And if you could see me, you’d be nauseated by the idea of having to hear about it; be grateful.

The first thing I wanted to do was create a Windows theme. Man, I was all fired up to do it. I was going to go into Photoshop an draw some cool backgrounds, experiment with filters, colors, effects … all that crap. I was pumped. Then I was going to draw some buttons to replace the Windows standard uglies, and make a few new icons too. All I’d have to do then is apply the theme and bang! -- a new desktop look. I was jacked!

The second thing I was going to do was draw. Just draw. In Photoshop, probably, or maybe I’d get off my lazy ass and install Illustrator to have the vector art capability. I’d post to my DeviantArt page. I’d post on my blog. I’d do all kinds of great things with it. It was going to be great.

The weekend was all set, It would really be my last chance to do any of this stuff, because I’ve got some training material that I have to get going on, and study. I have a future to try and get on track. I have a family to provide for, and that means I’ve got to try and get my income up somehow. Training is the only way I know how to do that. Therefore, a-training I will go. For now, though, I was giving myself permission to have one last really lazy weekend doing just what I wanted to do before I commit myself to hard work and studying all the free time I have.
The problem is, my road to hell has been paved with good intentions. I really wanted to get all those things done. The odds of that happening, however, are very slim indeed.

For one, I have done more research and found that there are two things about building a Windows desktop theme that make it kind of problematic. One, it’s time-consuming. Two, it’s expensive. You need special software and access to various utilities, none of which are free. While some of them have free trials, none of them are free. With the learning curve involved with learning the ropes, the trial would likely expire before I could manage to finish one. So I was looking down the barrel of spending hundreds of dollars to accumulate the necessary software. Even if I took the cheap-n-easy route it would have been something like $50 or $100. I just don’t want to do that. I’ve spent plenty of money recently, thank you, and for something I’m not even sure I’ll like? No thanks; pass.

I also figured out pretty quickly that Photoshop isn’t as intuitive and easy to figure out as I hoped. I’ve been playing with it for a while -- more than a year, I think, very on and off -- but haven’t really dug deep. I can’t seem to find a decent tutorial that covers it from a painting/drawing perspective very well. And since I can’t keep up with the times and fork over $600 every time Adobe feels like releasing a new version, I’m likely to stay with this version for some time. On the other hand, since it’s old software, it’s harder to find instructional materials on it. I don’t know if I want to spend money on that, either, so on I go with version 7, and I’ll like it.

As it approaches noon on Saturday, it dawned on me that I hadn’t done either of the two things I was really looking ahead to doing when I left work on Friday. One I’ve lost interest in one altogether, and the other? Well …

When I decided I wanted to draw something this weekend, I really meant it. I meant it from the bottom of my heart. It was a burning desire that’s been growing in me for a while now, but I haven’t picked up a pencil in a serious way in nearly 14 months (!). I need to do that; that’s something connected to me and my happiness, and I know that just doodling has helped, but I need to spend some quality time flushing my system of the hunger to put graphite to paper. I intended this weekend to be that time, and I even had an idea in mind for a drawing to do.

The issue is, all of my art materials are still packed. I haven’t unpacked them because I haven’t had time or space to draw for more than a year. Sure, I can do it anywhere, and even can do it on my computer, but I’m never happy with my work on the PC (even with my half-assed tablet to assist) and I just flat don’t have room on my desk anymore (I used to have a laptop that I could fold up and put aside; not so now). So, I can pull out a sketchbook and any ol’ pencil will work, but I spent a ton of money on my supplies and feel I should use them when I can. And, as I get older, drawing on the floor with my tummy on the carpet just doesn’t hold the same appeal -- or level of comfort -- that it did when I was 17, 25, or even 30. No, the years, the obesity and the kids have seen to it that I need a space to work in, a dedicated art board, or at least an open flat surface. I have none of the above, so it’s either work digitally and just deal with it or break down and figure out another way. By the time I do that, my weekend’s over.

So guess what? I probably won’t get ANY of the things done that I wanted to when I left work on Friday. And it’s getting late; in a couple of hours, the football games will be on, and I’m not one to miss the play-offs. (Although I may not watch the Patriots game just to give my heart a break; I don’t need more stress. If I find out they won, I can always watch the DVR to see how they did it. If they lose, though, I’d rather not be cursing and swearing and angry. Growing up and acting like an adult about it is out of the question, of course, so these are my only two options.)

Ah, me. I did get to do one thing I really wanted to do. I would post that here, since only my loving spouse reads my blog anyway, but it’s kind of personal. The Internet community will have to wonder what that event was; I’m not talkin’.

See ya.

-JDT-