I sense an adventure. The tsunami from December has revealed structures belonging to an ancient Indian port:
"They could be part of the mythical city of Mahabalipuram, which legend says was so beautiful that the gods sent a flood that engulfed six of its seven temples.
The new finds were made close to the 7th Century beachfront Mahabalipuram temple, which some say is the structure that survived the wrath of the gods.
The myths of Mahabalipuram were first written down by British traveller J. Goldingham who was told of the “Seven Pagodas” when he visited in 1798…."
Check it out.
Originally uploaded by Decepticons Attack!.
Something tells me Alfred forgot to lock up the liquor cabinet.
"Master Bruce, don't you think you've had enough Shnapps - "
"Don't you dare lecture me. . .old man. . .where the hell is Dick?"
"Grayson, Grayson! The little drag queen. . ."
"I believe Master Dick is out for the evening, sir."
"Master Dick? Yeah, I bet. Damn it, call up that Kent hick, we're going out!"
So, uh, I finished the scholarship, with help from L of course. I ended up writing about women in the fishing industry. I just have some work to do here. This is boring. The entry, that is.
Okay, snort!, okay. I'm fine.
Ah, I love old comics. Good stuff. I'm editing the English mid-term paper, even as we speak, and I'm going to go over the play. The workshop went really well, although I was shaking the whole time. The actors didn't get a chance to rehearse long enough, so some of the jokes fell flat. But I did get a couple of really good laughs. The feedback was tremendous, lots of great ideas where generated from the class and the actors, plus comments from a bonafide director! So good! I think I may have been bitten by the theatre bug.
I also have to go over some of my research material for the scholarship. My topic? For. . ? Oh, the scholarship. Right. I'm just writing a cursory overview of Canadian labour history. Maybe something on the Ottawa Trek in the thirties. Who knows. Ginger Goodwin is always a good topic.
Later, I'm going to see Ong Bak with K and the kids, and eat, drink and be merry.
Originally uploaded by Decepticons Attack!.
Does anyone else have this problem? You're taking a walk in the park, totally self-absorbed, then this scene erupts out of nowhere.
Just across from me, there's a girl wearing a Nike t-shirt with the word "Strength" emblazoned across it. What? The strength of a low income country's grossly underpaid, painfully overworked workforce churning out thousands of these t-shirts? The strength of maintaining the illusion where you are an athletically inclined individual? Which one?
Well, ahem. I had fencing last night and I think I finally understand the disengage and the counters. We've been doing some informal bouts to practice the theory we learn at the beginning of class. I get more and more stoked to start aikido. My foot is still aching, so I'm going to make a doctor's appointment to learn some excercises to strengthen the muscle as it heals. My doctor is also a sports medicine specialist. I lucked out.
The weather lately has been unseasonally warm, and the evening sky is usually painted bright orange and red. I've been taking walks lately, during my breaks from writing, to formulate ideas and solve phrasing problems.
I need to call my friends, finish my mid-terms, edit the play, cook French food and ride my bike. I'm writing an essay for a scholarship, due on Monday.
"How did we meet again? Tell me the story."
"Just tell me."
In every room, a television broadcasting. If I could ask, would everyone in this city report in with me? Something brief. Not just friends and family. The whole city. I want someone to clock in right about now.
Originally uploaded by Decepticons Attack!.
I have to head to work to finish some stuff, then go to anthropology. I'm working towards the College Reading and Learning Associationâs International Tutor Certification Program, or CRLA. There are three levels and I'm working on level two. The certificate is internationally recognized, so I could tutor for extra cash when we live in Slovenia. Slovenia? Wha? More later.
Let's go! Get on! Quit thinking! Don't smile! Don't speak! Look ahead!
Shoulders shake! Dance with snake! Level! Your! Sights!
Step! Down! Direction, go!
The only direction is go. If I ever, ever, hear back, stop or maybe there will be trouble. Trouble so deep and moist you get dirty just thinking about it. If you want to talk to me, your direction must be go.
The play is coming along nicely, but it is a challenge. I also have a take home mid-term, an English essay and my outline for my sociology paper all due within the same three wek period. This will be fun.
Fencing is going well. My left shoulder has been bothering me since Tuesday, and I'm still trying to master the counter-six and counter-four, plus my disengage is a little off. I found that displaying a little aggression works in some cases - charging a little can seem unsettling to an opponent.
Still haven't gotten around to check out aikido, but I know there are beginner's classes on Saturday. Archery is way too expensive for me at the moment, so I will follow the sport vicariously through books and the Olympics. I also want to learn some basic boxing, did I mention that already?
Right now I'm reading Paul Valery and Philip Larkin, plus some intro stuff on Barthes' semiotics and linguistics. I have been craving fiction lately, where is all the good fiction?
Last weekend L and ended up in Seattle for the Emerald City Comicon. It. Was. Fun. We left Saturday morning at 5:30 in the damn morning to meet our 6:15 bus. Luckily, we live really close to the bus terminal. The border was no problem; a grumpy, mumbling border guard at the crack of dawn will not prevent me from participating in my first con. Never. We took some food for ourselves and ate it up before we arrived at the border. When we finally got into Seattle we hustled to the hostel (not a spelling error, we did, in fact, stay in a hostel) which is five seconds away from the Pike Market Place. We had coffee and crumpets at this cute shop nearby and took a bus to the con. The local, downtown buses in Seattle are free! Didja know that? I think we spent only $2.50 on transit the whole time we were there. Anyway, the con was super busy - the line-up for Vasquez was long, like intestinal tract long, for the entire weekend. But I was there to meet Bendis, and Bendis I did meet. We attended his panel, which was basically a collection of Marvel writers answering questions from geeks in costumes (my favourite was the priest, WTF was that all about? Preacher? God, I hope so) and luckily, there were only a couple complaints about Hawkeye's death. I walked over to his table and he signed my Daredevil #40 - he was really cool. When the writers made fun of the questioning geeks at the panel, he totally validated the fans. He chatted with me briefly about #40 and how cool it was for him to work with some of his favourite artists. It was an incredible experience. I just hope my nervousness wasn't too obvious. I attended a few panels, like comic book history and self-publishing. I also picked up some old DD comics and met Tim Sale and Tony Harris. I never had a chance to meet Jim Woodring or Robert Kirkman. Oh well.
Seattle is awesome - most stuff is marginally cheaper, yeah, but everything is open later! We had Nepalese food on Saturday night, and L picked up hummus sandwiches from our favourite kosher deli. Seattle coffee is not overrated. And what about our heroine, L? How did she fare being around nerds all weekend? She was there for Saturday, but on Sunday we checked out the underground tour, where for ten bucks you can check out the old tunnels under Seattle. You also get a brief history lesson (whee!) that has inspired me a little to write about Vancouver. After the tour we went out for coffee because it started to rain and we wanted to warm up. So on Sunday we parted ways: I went to the con and L did a little touring of her own.
School and work has gotten interesting. My one act play is due Thursday and the school will be shut down on Monday from the strike. I haven't decided yet if I will picket. I can really use the time to finish my work, including an essay for a scholarship. I know, I know; it's my duty as union member to picket. More in sec, the library is closing.
I know I should be updating this thing more often, but my schedule is really tying me up. I do jot down notes as I go along, like ideas for stories and segments of poems that I want to explore and expand upon. Fencing is really fun - we actually got to wear the mask and armour, then sparred with partners after the warm-up and drills. My counter-four and counter-six really need a lot of work. The instructor told us not to be discouraged if we don't get it right away, the fact that we are learning the basics now rather than flailing about wildly is actually a better start to the sport. I sometimes feel as though I'm wasting the other student's time if I'm having trouble with a technique and screw up the exercise. I had to spar with another lefty, who is really talented, but my counters were all over the place. I thiink I'll ask him to spar to make up for it, so he can get a chance to really fence. But dear god above, I am so sore.
Lately I've been feeling like a fraud. In English class, the one class I cherish, I can't even talk. I spend at least ten hours on campus before I arrive at class, and by the time I get there I'm too tired to want to participate. There are these guys who sit in the back who totally dominate the class. And if you guessed they are all friends, you would be right. One of them is an excellent talker, that is, he sounds as though he's reciting from a text and makes it sound like his own words. I dunno, I could be wrong, I'm just a little bitter. But when I'm asked my thoughts on the text (Hemingway's "Hills Like White Elephants") I can give a response but when I'm asked for evidence all I can say is "I just got a feeling from it" and I swear I heard snickering in the back. I came to the conclusion I'm more of an intuition person than a "thinking" person - I feel my way through a situation before I find rational proofs.
Even at work I don't think I'm capable of doing the right job. Although, the other day I helped someone with their history paper and I was amazed how animated and inspired I got, and this is Canadian history, the most hated of them all! I'm just feeling a little ambivalent at work - am I actually doing a good job?
Listening to: dub, vintage punk rock, noize, and whatever violin music I can pick up.
Writing: poems, a play, comic, and ideas for short stories and scripts.
Want: a digital camera, to up the memory on the laptop.
And yes oh yes, L and I are heading out to Seattle for the Emerald City Comicon Saturday morning. Six A.M. baby!