mDuo13

My recent resolution to make time for productive things in addition to fun things has met with mixed results. I would be lying if I said I hadn't relapsed slightly into time-wasting habits. However, I think it has been a good move overall. For one thing, I've found time to get around to all the remaining improvements I had originally planned for this site - limited HTML tags in comments, improved recognition of off-site URLs in comment link fields, and individual tags/categories for blog posts. (For that last one, check the new blue tag icon on the corner of posts.) I also ended up finding time to read through a screenplay a friend of mine is working on (an adaptation of nigh-unfilmable Philip K. Dick novel Flow My Tears, the Policeman Said).

So, with that out of the way, I'm about ready to move on to my next target: Blame!

I've discovered a recent trend of mine that is actually rather concerning. It started maybe a year ago when my watch died. I had been the kind of person who was pretty dedicated to his watch; I wore it pretty much any time I wasn't in the shower, and had relied on a series of similar watches for years, going through the effort of fixing various little things like the wristband or the battery when they went out. But this time, I just kind of never worked up the gumption to replace it. I procrastinated it until I decided I didn't really even need to, and started relying on my phone for the time, instead. Sure, it's frugal, but more than that, it was a learning experience.

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Some things just tick me off. One of those is when people seem to think that science fiction cannot be literature, which is the position of my present creative writing professor. It's kind of a killjoy when the professor tells you that the kind of thing you like to write, you shouldn't bother with because she thinks it's a waste of time. Makes one tend to get rather bitter, and feel like the rest of the class is a waste of time. Anyway, I was in quite a funk yesterday on account of that and a few other points. For some reason, this made me want to draw. First thing I did was a sketch of Natsume (of Natsume Yuujinchou), based on a reference frame from the anime. Well, I was so surprised at how well it turned out, I did another drawing, Nakiami from Xam'd: Lost Memories, and colored it within less than half a day. Amazing how that works. (As for the Natsume pic... I'll probably color it eventually, but I want to spend a little more time on it than this one.)

For some reason, lately, I just haven't been having any thoughts that I felt were worth blogging. Maybe that's just because I've been spending my free time reading One Piece so I don't want to take the time to blog. Maybe it's because I've had the obnoxiously long-lived remnants of a cold hanging over me. Maybe it's because I went back to school. I don't know.

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I just finished a rank test for orange belt in Shaolin Kempo. The test was much easier than I expected, and that got me thinking. There's a Chinese proverb, which our instructors tend to like, that is often quoted, "The more you sweat in practice, the less you bleed in battle." I'm beginning to realize how broadly this idea applies.

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More and more each year, I find coming home for Thanksgiving to be a surreal experience. It occupies a strange space in my life: it's too short to get used to being at "home", but it's not like it's a vacation, since I'm spending it at the place I used to live. Instead, I get this strange impression that I've driven some untold hours through a portal into the past, and arrived in the life I lived up to four years ago.

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