October 14, 2000

Writing the Entry


1 AM

Just finished writing the current Survivor Journals entry. It'll be posted with the others on Oct. 16.

It was a difficult entry to start and to finish. The topic - Describe Your World - is so vague (and intentionally so) that it's hard to know just where to make the first incision. It's also hard to know when and where to stop. Like (I imagine) most people, I can talk about my world (my life) interminably. That may be what journals are for, but too much is nauseating.

Besides, although I call this a "journal", I don't pretend that it's my diary which just happens to be on the internet. It's often more of a soapbox than a diary. (Yes we do have soapboxes in Canada!) It's about my thoughts and feelings but often, my thoughts and feelings about things other than myself. I had to turn inward to describe my world and it wasn't an altogether pleasant experience. Useful, probably (in small doses) - but not pleasant.

Much easier to pontificate, rant and rave about drugged up athletes, the evils of the American TV networks, and flag displays in Quebec. Easier to think about my kids, my father, even my husband, bowling, the stock market, my hit count, the Middle East, and whom to vote for in the impending (but as yet unannounced) Canadian general election. (I didn't write that one yet but it's bound to show up sooner or later.)

There are seven others (plus a few guests) going through similar trauma this week but I don't feel as if I am in competition with them. If I'm voted off, I'm still welcome to write entries for future topics as a "judge", "guest" or whatever. Everyone participating in this project is already a winner, in my view.

11 AM

I figured out what my problem is. (cue applause..)

I have trouble with transitional states.

When I'm awake I want to stay awake. (Unless it's the middle of the afternoon. Then sleep is somehow OK.)
When asleep, getting up is wrong. Just wrong. Even the computer doesn't tempt me enough to move out of bed.

How to cure this? No idea. I'll just continue to live with it.

Mark (Older Son) arrived home a short time ago from his Saturday morning bowling league. I was, as usual, at the computer which is in the basement.

ME:   "How'd you bowl?"
MARK:   (proceeds to launch into a detailed description of his morning, almost as boring as Hubby's golf stories.)
ME:   (grunts a few times to indicate that I'm listening)
MARK:  "Come upstairs Maw so I can talk to you!"
ME:   *insert parental guilt* (closes windows and runs upstairs)
MARK:   (finishes his story in a sentence or two and retires to his room.)
ME:   (- After contributing to Rob's lunch by opening a can of tuna while I was upstairs anyway - knocks on Mark's door, opens it to find him on the phone.) "You made me come upstairs and now you're closed up in your room?"
MARK:   "and on the phone!"
ME:   (hugs him a few times)
MARK:   (pleasantly) "Go away, Maw. Oh and by the way, wash my bowling towel..."
ME:   (throws it back at him) "NO!"

This is the part of my world that I love the best!

Linque Du Jour:  Post Production Horror Stories

Rien's other site, intended for fellow video editors/vision mixers. He collects work-related horror stories which are posted under two subtitles:

The technical details would be obscure to all but professionals in that field but the human part of the stories is universal; it makes for a nice mix of the familiar and the new. There's also a killer pun in there.. it happens that Rien's real surname is "Post". Post Production?

Well I liked it..

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