POOLS!  I like pools.   The camp ground we stayed in on the last night had a HEATED POOL. Roughing it, but the best part was actually the kids. For some reason, when we entered, it was quiet, but after Ilya and I used the waterslide once, a line had mysteriously formed. And kids are great. They respond so well if you tell them “DONT DO IT, YOU HAVE SO MUCH TO LIVE FOR” when they’re mid-water slide, or when you teach them how to buy cigarretes but instead not to do that and BUY MILK so you too can become big and strong in the kiddy pool. Oh yeah, there’s a picture of me standing in a 1.5 foot kiddy pool somewhere. 

This is Ilya’s friend Poie (call her Pwee.) She’s awesome and doesn’t say no to the possibility that human beings have super powers. I’m not sure, but my best guess is this is her doing an impression of my favorite golden retriever’s personality.

She’s not very good at impressions.

YAY JAIDREE MADE IT. (THIS IS ALSO WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU CAMERA TROLL HER WITH HER OWN PHONE CAMERA 20 BILLION TIMES.  

At some point I seized control of the only camera between jaidree I. This is my learning face as I mastered it’s ways.

WATCHING YOO

OMGERD THE LOVELY COTTAGE WE STAYED AT. I WISH THEY HAD ANOTHER PILLOW THAT SAID ORINOCO FLOW

Apparently it looks from the back seat when I drive (p.s. I’m the best driver ever) which also gives me a good idea for how it’d also look from the back seat if I make sweet sweet love.

THEY HAD A SPINNING WHEEL THAT FOR SOME REASON MADE ME THINK OF MOM.

I fukkin loved this cottage. This is also the room where people learned how to kill each other in Wii smash in the wee hours of the night after massive feast with dranks.

I think Jaidree was a lil afeared to explore the back yard cause of the upstairs neighbor (we had the first floor, which was beautiful and plenty) but there’s a gorgeous garden with GIANT PETUNIAS right around the corner.

Respect the sock game.

And toe.

Testing?

OOH OOH OOH, SO I COOKED, AND WHILE I LIKED THE KIBBOB FIRE FEAST MORE (which no pictures were taken cause it was the dead of night and camp fire based) this features:

Lobsta

Corn on cob

Hickery Smoked BBQ baked beans – legit style

Baked citrus basil pork chops with garlic kale

Garlic bread Spinach and tossed green salad topped with shimp boiled in butter and garlic and seseme peanut sauce

Olive Boat (WHICH DIDN’T LAST)

A bowlful of butter

Garlic Pasta with melted mozzeralla and parmissan and red clam sauce

To drink:

Gin + Vodka + Mint + Pink Lemonade (really fuckin good)

Here’s some of the night before

Ilya’s friend made it up to join us in portland. Turned out he’s a kickass docta man who’s super cool to barhop with.

So there’s this place outside portland where you can take a boat to a smaller island, and then we rented bikes. We discovered a beach, and some of us decided to strip down to our underpants and go swimming. I couldn’t do that, and the water was really nice, but this is what it feels like to bike around in your wet underpants for 20 minutes.

Daww Rock Island – some really weird and cool balance experiments happening here I wish we shot more of

Crossing off “Explore Ghost Yacht at night” from bucket list.

And then

So while we were in Portland, J had to join us later to help out a best friend. But, disaster, this is her bus super broke down.  Let’s never ride with this company, cause after hearing how stressful things were getting I devoured dinner, and drove on down to boston to get her (only about 90 minutes) cause she missed the connecting bus cause 1) No I don’t want you spending vacation waiting in a scary bus depot in the middle of boston till 5am 2) Excuse to drive 3) It’s about the only time you get to rescue someone in a shiny metal thing in a civilian setting before the zombie apocalypse.

BUT YEY SHE MADE IT. TIME TO MAKE CHRISTIAN ROCK ALBUM COVERS.

GAIS ITS BEAUTIFUL I BELIEVE OUR INSTRUCTIONS ARE TO GET SMUGGLIER.

NOT BAD MAINE

NOT, BAD

Got to cook it up.  Everyone was so cool; everything = beautiful. Driving round was split perfectly and tons of fun (I ❤ 75 mph speed limits) was fun.

Island biking. Ship wrecking. Comparing Portland to Camden to Acadia was interesting.  Tandem Sea Kayaking = hell yea. Camping = hell yeah.  Impromptu extra stop on Wercester (pronounced “wooster” for some reason.) Teaching little kids at the pool how to buy cigs, but not to do that and buy milk instead was fun.  Went from hotel room to apt to cottage to camp ground and enjoyed ’em all.

Apparently Ilya’s ladyfriend thought I was a rockstar.  This meant a lot coming from a hipster looking asian gal, but, she also thinks I’m black. So what’s she know.

To top it off, a certain book also arrived in mail in proof form, and that’s what’s to do.  It’s um, very different than any previous copy, like that, and continue to not be done.

First day out and the Great Northeast is interesting.  Enjoyed hours of highway driving and the trip was perfect.   Did some trespassing, like, broke into a boat and did some spookey exploration en gang.  Furthered with my favorite kinds of bars (the margarita lemon jello shots we made at home are better than any green jello shot at bars – FACT) live music, ilya’s lady is super cool fun, great sense of humah, and quirky! Patronized and got patronized, there are also a lot of beautiful ladies here (but the last one just makes someone need to hurry up moar)

NOT BAD MAINE

NOT
BAD

I kind of believe at this point that humans did evolve to quantify energy into a currency system.  We only do it in almost every culture on earth, so there’s a big enough cross-section to argue that it’s hard-wired.  The thing though is, I don’t think we’re all hardwired the same way, obviously.

And when I think of occupations, the first one that comes to mind for me of course is still writer.  And, a thing I HATED about the English major is about how many old dead famous writers came from money.  It made me skeptical, and wonder if artists need wealth in order to get into the zone where they’re comfortable creating.  I think I’d like to rewire that now.

Artists need patrons, and they need muses, and they need inspiration.  They do  need to have their bills met, but, speaking of bills – actually let’s focus on Steve’s.  Steve Jobs did a LOT of get rich quicker actions – well after he already got insanely rich.  In fact, he screwed friends over (Wazniak, however you spell his name.)  His behaviors indicate a cutthroat mentality where he’s competing to aggrandize his standing via wealth. I’m not sure creatives have that sort of how many times can I create compounding profits off my profit.  I think they get bored, and want to live more.  (This isn’t to venerate one type btw, both are people.)

But I no longer think you need to be rich to be a creative.  My favorite wealthy author is Alduous Huxley (Brave New World) and I think it’s because he was an honest critic of society, and kind of a genius.  Not because he was paid for and, eh, that’s just what I’m gonna do.  I think about Suzanne Collins, Philip K Dicks, Stephen King, Neil Gaimann, Charlagne Harris, J.K Rowlings, and, while they all became very rich off their enterprise, what their actual focus was, I’m sure, was the story.  And here’s what I love:

Authors with bootstrap roots create the most sympathetic characters.  And it’s obvious why. (Maybe this’s why Harvard really has John Lithgow and Matt Daman [who required a Ben Affleck backup] among its most succesful entertainment writers. True writers wanna live and write.  Not horde cathet.)
Anyway, at this point and after what I’ve read for funsies, I think living rich makes less relatable characters for non-glitz genres. More than half of stephen kings protagonist are small-town guys just trying to survive their situations and make the best they can.  Harry Potter wasn’t a rich brat.  Katness Everdeen is a survivalist because she had to learn to be, and that’s what makes her so interesting.  The bottom line to me is, it’s not their wealth or who their daddy was directly that made me have to read so many rich dead authors (I kind of figured it was.)   It’s the fact that those were the guys who made it enough to get published, and they they were sponsored enough to live.  Poor people were still getting dominated by the 8 hour workday after the British Industrial revolution and finding it a RELIEF – meaning, of course they’re not thinking it’s great to go home and use that rarer skill of being literate to craft art for the 10,000 hours it takes to master your method.  So let’s consider that it’s life’s education, which does require wealth, is what’s necessary to work as a creative.  I even had a huge debate (debate, not argument) where I had that other stance years ago where I said you need wealth to have the leisure time to think the creative thoughts.  But I take it back.  I was wrong.  You don’t need to be wealthy as much as focused and comfortable enough.  I think writer types are more hard-wired to look at another type of social currency besides money (that’s why the earnings are the way their are), and want to improve what their sense of narcassism (the healthy kind) tells them they need to work on.

Anyway, fuck excuses.  If you wanna do something creative, and know why, do it, and work hard. But also maybe expect to grow poor while you do it.  I am NOT an authority, don’t think I’m super noble or wanna be lionized for it, but this jes is the attempt I’m honestly taking, and really, I expect to go from one of the highest earning periods of my life, to one of the lowest.  I know to many that makes it questionable, and that’s how they feel.  I still feel that putting in everything is what’ll let me move forward best, and that I should mentally separate the ego from all non-IP assets for a continued while more.

http://aeon.co/magazine/philosophy/why-did-we-evolve-to-appreciate-beauty/

^Word porn fun

Spending a couple days away from fiction until my proofs (and some other rewarding goodies) arrive in the mail!

I also wrote the below – mostly for fun, partially catharsis, and largely as reminders to self. Dodged a situation over the last few days that could’ve pissed me off, like a lot (same people who took over my home last year when the cat escaped wanted to do so again, but I like how I handled [see: resolved] it.)  I also want to be an even  less negative person – want whatever fight’s I fight to become good fights, and have kickass more than high volume.

So anyway, I wrote a “You might be toxic if” blah blah.  Again, it’s for fun, but, I’m paranoid cause it’s giving oneself permission to be thoughtful about negative shit, but I promise I’m not taking pot-shots. (Although, work in finance, not a perfect attitude within every family member, having had relationships  – I’m sure something below’d make someone self conscious.  Yet, life’s going great, and this isn’t an effort to devalue / shit on folks / make you feel bad.)

You may be a toxic person if:

You need dorkwads to post disclaimers about their dorkwad introverted thoughts / conclusions. 😛

Your word is your bond – unless otherwise suddenly becomes more convenient.

If you don’t get what you want, you resort to value judgement’s on a person’s principles or character. Said value judgements are chock-full of disregard or coercive assignment.

You’re actually bad at empathy, and register a constant surprise at people’s reactions.

Everyone else seems to be some sort of asshole, while you’re just someone who stands up for their self.

You expect to be treated like someone on a higher horse, or you’ll have it shit on people to prove your worth.

You can be subject to rage.

You give mixed messages, inspire curiosity or confusion, yet consider curiosity or confusion as an experiencer’s problem / shortcoming.

You don’t solve issues, identify, or tackle things that might be problems or can be improved. You focus on your emotions that derrive from them instead, and intend for the world to make you feel good for having them.

You are more familiar with the sentiment of boredom than tranquility.

As you meet new people a one-way pattern emerges: the new validate your disrespect of the old, and the old should kiss the ass of the new.

You shit-talk friends, family and former lovers, more than having anything else to say about them.

You could give two shits as to how, where, to whom, or in front of whom, if you have something to criticize.

You like other people doing your dirty work for you.

You require others to behave in specific ways in order to be happy.

You do not assert or express specific desires, and, if disappointed, start considering action against people when they fall short.

Those specific desires are rational, not emotional (but you just get really upset when people can’t see how rational you’re being.)

You repeat points you liked making which helps you dominate conversation (and also makes you feel more in control.)

You repeat points you liked making which helps you dominate conversation (and also makes you feel more in control.)

You resent when others have lived with better fortune than you.

You forget to appreciate your own fortunes.

You may feel mistrusting, and, when you do, questionable people should be treated as guilty parties until proven persecutable or innocent.

You are good for telling people how they think.

You are a failure at not crossing the line between assertiveness and aggressiveness, especially when it comes to criticism.

You never take responsibility for your own negative emotion.

Your apologies are not indications that you did not fulfill some internalized standard of conduct, but actually manipulations which come conditionally, and their sincerity are often temporary.

You have a hard time considering ways you should improve. (Honestly, look at you, at this point it’s the rest of the world that should get its shit together.)

You constantly change your narrative and tone of the same events that you share with the same people.

You rationalize violating other people’s boundaries.  (I mean, you had good reason, right?)

Not getting caught makes it 10x more likely you’ll violate said boundaries.

You are entitled because you give.

Any time you feel wronged, you don’t let go.

You are better at practicing what technically constitutes a friendship dynamic with pets, more than people.

People “playing” others is a dynamic you almost always perceive more than the people getting played do.

You look at apologies as a stance of weakness.

You take yourself so seriously that you can’t be seen being silly.  (You may also never dance.)

You require drugs or alcohol to feel enjoyment or comfort in expressing yourself.

When set off, you’re not responsible for your own behavior or things you say during.

You think meaning the worst of what you have to say justifies saying it.

You are beyond reproach or criticism.

Revenge is a dish best served by you.

You are actually more attracted to and interested in people who may act too cool for you, more than people who’re open and emotionally available.

People who are open about their thoughts seem like amazing, near-mythical beings, like unicorns. (So long as they’re not negative / possibly about you.)

You don’t let others grow, yet are oblivious to how you yourself have gotten stuck in the box where you’re sticking others.

You make bullshit excuses. When you do, part of you know they’re bullshit, but you rationalize them, and expect others to trust that you have decent reasons.

You have complexes that once made aware of, think is part of your character and something others will have to put up with.

You are competitive in the way that other people demonstrating impressive accomplishment or virtue is not something you appreciate.

You like to make rules about “real ____” (example: real women, real men, real friends, real honesty, etc.)

Your life in your private time is fills with ebbs of anxiety, hopelessness, guilt, shame, and/or the general feeling of watching paint dry.

You don’t crave the results of working to be your best at something, or have any drive to do said work.

You recognize validation in being able to give other’s the shunt, and optimal challenge in trying to change someone  who isn’t optimal for you into someone who is.

You loathe being alone.

You read or look at the world exclusively to see how it pertains to you more, and not to enjoy reading or looking at the world.

You are eager to bias a conflict without even thinking to look at all perspectives and attempt objectivity.

You don’t just get depressed/scared/angry as every normal human does at some point in their life, but when this happens, you double your efforts to act normal because, depressed/scared/angry people suck. You will do this until something bursts.

You prefer not to have close relationships with people you have sex with and avoid associating responsibility that could grow from it like it’s an STD.

You use other’s hope as a tool to test out and play their motivations in your favor.

You have not reached new milestones for new things in your life, personal improvements, or feel in any way improved over the you of a year prior.

You cheat at shit.

If you lose or fuck up, you simply can’t acknowledge how you played wrong.

You store and use other’s faults, like ammunition.

You repeat your parent’s mistakes and don’t take responsibility for doing better.

Creativity or long-term plans are things other people do.

You hang out with folks to do the same things, have an active aversion to trying new things, but look to replace the people you do said activities with as soon as things start to feel stagnating or miserable. You constantly put energy into looking for that opportunity.

Your past is a bumpy road which justifies your doing or saying things you’d loathe to have done or said to you.

YOU’RE NO FUN.

Anyway, that was a fun 6am.  I’m gonna keep running with these warm and fuzzy feels that’re kicking in for some reason, and think it’s time to go finish the hunger games books.  (I don’t care if it’s YA – it’s good.)

Been playing some paths of exile with the guys and it ain’t bad. Dirty bomb’s pretty sweet too, although there’s still really nothing pulling my itch to game well.  Even though I just ordered a huge TV so I can smash abroad, and have some console stuff available for visitors….

Uh, so I did a full round of edits on disjuncture with notes and uh, I HAVE PROOFS COMING IN THE MAIL THIS WEEK AND IT FEELS LIKE ONE OF THE BIGGEST HURDLES YET.  

Was a lot of work, and now I’ll have something fun to show for it. Yes to more.

(Of course I’ve got a ton to say and can spew what I noticed, but let’s leave it at it’s clear that putting time and thoughtful effort into something you feel driven towards only makes you better at it.)

Also, I’m pretty sure the word “just” is literally one of the most limiting words in the English language.

Throwing a fest before the trip and I kinda wanna do a birthday rap for J’s birthday.  It would probably go something like,

“YO, ITS YO BIRFDAY

(YEYEYEY)

SO YOU KNOW ITS TIME TO GET DOWN TODAY

CAUSE ITS YOUR BIRFDAY, THAT DAY’S TO-DAY

CELEBRATING THE FIRST TIME YOU WERE NEKKE

IN ALL ETERNITEH

WHICH LEAD TO GREAT THINGS

YOU SHOULD HAVE A GREAT LIFE

YOU MAKE LOTS OF PEOPLE’S SWEETER

MORE THAN SUGAR AND SPICE!

. . . YA!!”

But that would end in jazz hands, and I really need the whitest guy I know to stand behind me and do a beatbox for this to work.  Will have to go about arranging all of that in between the cleaning.

*goes to practice jazz hands*

I will never be able to run fast or hard enough to this song.  Someone karate me.

*gets back to it

Heading to Portland, then Camden, then Arcadia Maine.  Probly gonna tour round the university of maine area and also super not hit Steven King with a car.

Yeyay!