Switching gears

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This program is an interesting experience. Not that I haven’t done similar things before, but every time the worst appears to be over, they ratchet it up a notch.

I am talking, of course, about the multi-tasking practice the program provides.

This month we are studying animations, so I will be going through the process needed to write an animated short, which includes 2 character biographies, 3 springboards, a premise, an outline, a storyboard, and a script. One of the requirements is that everything is newly created. I cannot use anything that is related to my thesis, or that I created previously in the program.

But wait! That’s not all!

During the same time period I’m required to finish my thesis project, which is a full length live action film. I’ve done all the preliminary work on it (research, character bios, outline, first 70 pages, etc.), so now all I have to do is write the final 40 or so pages.

Which means focusing a lot of time and effort on two different stories concurrently.

Because of the tight deadline, I find myself flipping back and forth between the two projects. I’ll write a few pages on the animation, then ‘take a break’ by writing on my thesis project. Back and forth.

These are two very, very different stories.

Which is forcing my brain to switch gears rather quickly.

I hope I don’t break a cog!

 

May Day Message

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Anarchists Unite!

Then do something really unique. Build a spaceship and fly yourselves off of Earth. I’m sure there is a planet out there, somewhere, just perfect for you. One where you wouldn’t be expected to do a day’s work and you could swing your little hammers around all you want.

Maybe one of the gas giants? Like Neptune?

I’m only suggesting this because it is obvious you are unhappy here on Earth, and no one wants you to be unhappy. Especially those of us who actually work to try to build a better world. We have to put up with your temper tantrums, and they are getting a little old.

By the way, didn’t your parents teach you any manners? Because, not to be rude, but you don’t seem to know how to play nice or clean up after yourselves. You’re kind of bratty.

So it’s settled then. I’m sure you’ll build a beautiful spaceship.

Anarchists on Neptune.

It has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?

To play the game

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My family and I play board and card games fairly often, but
my most memorable game experience happened 17 years ago when I was 8 months
pregnant with my 4th child.

My husband and I were both pursuing undergraduate degrees,
so sleep was a highly prized commodity.  Especially by me, since the pressure of
studying while caring for three children left me constantly tired.
A friend had given us a computer game called King’s Quest. One night my sister-in-law
dropped by to visit, and after we had put the kids to bed we decided to give
the game a try.
It was a game for one player, so my husband ran the controls
while my sister-in-law and I looked over his shoulder. We were backseat drivers
of the worst kind, telling him to touch that tree, go this direction, talk to
that man, and save this object.
Luckily my husband is a very patient man.
A child called out in her sleep and I looked at the clock.
Midnight! What were we thinking of, to sacrifice precious sleeping time to play
a silly game?
Yet on we played, drawn in by the need to reach the end of
the game, to finish the story, to rescue the princess.
After several more hours we were trapped in an underground
cavern, struggling to make our tired brains detangle the puzzle that would
allow us to escape. I was focusing so hard on the game that I jumped when a little
hand tugged at my shirt.
“Mommy, I want breakfast,” my three-year-old daughter
whined. I looked up to tell her to go back to bed, until I saw sunlight
streaming through windows.
It was morning. We had played the entire night.
That was the last time I ever really played a video game.

Whack! Thump! Bam!

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Whack!
Thump!
Bam!
Again, and again, and again the bird hit our window.
Whack!
Waving my arms near the window only made the bird go away for a few minutes.
Thump!
Waving my arms outside made it desert his post for a full 10 minutes.
Bam!
A quick Internet search showed that we were not alone.
Thump!
Other people had kamikaze birds dive bombing their windows, and based on what we read, this type of behavior could continue for weeks.
Thump!
If we let it.
Whack!
Which we had no intention of doing.
Bam!
So we grabbed a few sticky notes and some colored paper and “decorated” the window.

              

It worked for about an hour.
Whack!
Until the robin discovered that the fluttering paper was harmless.
Thump!
He simply aimed for one of the paper-free spots.
Bam!
The noise was driving us all bananas. Not only was the constant thump, whack, bam distracting, but I feared for the bird’s life. After all, how many times could it crash into the window before it did too much damage to its silly little head?
Whack!
People wrote that this behavior was caused by the bird’s need to protect its territory.
Whack!
It would see a reflection in the glass and think that another bird was intruding.
Thump!
So out of desperation we went to the hardware store and purchased a can of the stuff you use to turn regular glass into frosted glass. It blocks our view of the trees and is rather unsightly–

–but the bird hasn’t dive-bombed our window once since we sprayed it on! It has been days of blissful, thump-free silence.

Doggie drama

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“WAIT” I yelled as the little dog rushed into the path of an oncoming car.

My heart was pounding so hard that I could barely hear anything else, yet the man in the car must have heard my yell since his reaction was immediate.

I closed my eyes, not able to watch. But I did not think to plug my ears, so I heard each and every agonizing squeal as the breaks battled to stop the forward momentum of the SUV. I had little hope for the little dog, SUVs are heavy, and the man had not been given much warning. I feared that today was a day I would witness a tragedy.

Time froze and then there was silence. Even the birds stopped their usual happy chirping.

Cautiously, one lash at a time, I opened my eyes. There was the little dog, sniffing the bumper of the SUV that had come to a stop just an inch from his curious little nose.

With a final sniff at the metallic monster, the dog continued his journey across the street. He pranced over to where I stood, but as a mere human, I was not worth his attention.

He had risked his life, braved the dangers of the road, to pay his respects to the dog at the end of my leash. But Pepper, my schnoodle, gave him no more attention than she would an old piece of paper. A single sniff, and her nose went into the air, uninterested.

With a bark and a bow, the little dog again tried to gain her attention. He playfully bounced around, exuding friendly charm from every doggy pore. It was no use. Pepper looked off into the distance, royally refusing to acknowledge the bouncy little dog’s existence.

With what sounded suspiciously like a sigh, the little dog dejectedly lowered his head and rambled back across the street. Thank goodness, this time there were no cars to liven things up.

I looked down at my dog, sitting in regal splendor, waiting for me to continue our walk. I looked across the street at the sad little dog who now seemed so alone.

It was a doggie soap opera in the making. Who would have guessed?

Star People

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Sometimes an event happens which impacts you, even though you might not at the time be aware of its importance.

It is usually a very minor event, barely memorable at all. It is only years later that the ripples it sends through your life are felt, and exactly what the event meant is revealed.

I had just such an event as a teenager, although I only recently became aware of the fact.

I was walking with my best friend’s little sister, and to keep her from becoming bored I began to tell her a story. As we walked I drew inspiration from pretty much everything around us, which might seem unlikely since the story was about a group of people, who I called Star People, who travelled through space.

Believe it or not it was a leaf, shaped somewhat like a star, which launched the entire thing.

We must have walked for at least an hour, me weaving new elements into the story as inspiration hit.

We had not planned to take quite that long of a walk, but when I looked at my companion’s face as the story developed and noticed how enthralled she was, it spurred me to even greater leaps of imagination as I strove to increase the level of entertainment.

I was challenged as I had never before been challenged.

Looking back, I can now recognize that event as the one that switched on my storytelling gene. I was hooked.

Words

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People say things that are accepted at face value all the time. Words strung together to make a meaningful phrase, only the phrase isn’t always as meaningful as it first seems.

Our language is filled with little sayings that sound okay on the surface, that seem to make sense. Until that day comes when a switch goes off in your brain and you think to yourself “huh?”

One example is the oft asked question, “Why do you always focus on one thing?” It is a common enough complaint to hear, used in arguments every day across the country.

But what exactly does it mean?

Because if someone focuses on more than one thing, is she really focusing on anything at all?

Consequences

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Is it any wonder that our children cyber bully? Look at what is modeled for them.

Spike Lee was upset because a man he felt should be in jail was not. So what does he do? He retweets the man’s address to all his followers. He did this because he wanted to cause the man pain.

In other words, his intent was to cyber bully the man. Or at least, to get everybody who follows him to do the bullying for him. Because make no mistake, the intent was to bully, to cause harm.

He made an error and put in the wrong address, so a couple in Florida are receiving hate mail and death threats that are not really intended for them. At any moment a madman with a gun might break down their door and begin shooting, supposedly in the name of justice.

So Spike Lee apologizes to the couple for his mistake. As if his only crime was to type in the incorrect address.

Which shows that Spike Lee is clueless about the power of the Internet, and the responsibilities we all have while using it. EVERYTHING on the Web has the potential to go viral, which makes every ill thought posted a million times more powerful than if it were kept private.

The Web is a public place. The citizens of the Web are made up of good people, bad people, and quite a few crazies.

So all you celebrities out there who glory in your ability to sway your followers at will, watch what you say. If someone gets hurt because you don’t understand the difference between a phone call and a tweet, you are responsible.

So be responsible. Think of the possible consequences before you post.

The underdog

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I am tough when it comes to the underdog. Point out someone who cannot stand up for himself who is the victim of an injustice, and I’m immediately ready to fight tooth and nail for that person. I’m not one to stand idly by while a bully beats up the little guy.

I’m not so good at taking care of myself in the same manner. For some unknown reason I begin to wonder if I am causing inconvenience, or pain. No thought of my own inconvenience or pain.

I am currently in the midst of one of those dilemmas. Almost two months ago a woman driving a giant SUV backed into my car while in a grocery store parking lot. She gave me her insurance card so I could get my car fixed.

I called her insurance and began the process. A few days later I received a phone call from her begging me to do everything in my power to keep the cost under $500. If it went above that mark her insurance would go up. She told me she had been unemployed for 8 months, and an increase in her insurance premiums would cause her distress.

I empathized with her since I have been under/unemployed for 2 1/2 years. It has been stressful trying to  cobble together a series of contract positions to replace my full time job. Is it any wonder that being unemployed made her an underdog in my eyes? So when she gave me the name of a local body shop that she felt would be low cost, I went.

Unfortunately the quote they gave me was more than $800.
I did nothing for the next several weeks while I thought it through.

What was the right thing to do? My car was drivable, but leaving the damage lowered the resale value.
I knew I should get it fixed, but she had begged me to keep it low.
I had no control over what any shop charged.
If I got it fixed and her premiums were raised, I would be causing her distress.

Round and round I went. Until the epiphany hit that I was the victim here, and it really was not fair of her to cause ME distress like she did. I was the true underdog.

Earlier this week I finally made the call and set up the appointment. I am still dripping with guilt, but I will get the car fixed.

Chaos and backstabbing

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Every so often over the past year I have been tortured by sudden, overwhelming, violent shivers. These shivers have been caused not by a medical condition, but by a memory. A memory of a place of evil.

A workplace in fact, but not one where those who wish to keep their soul should be employed. Although from the outside it looked normal and quaint, it was in reality located on a portal to the underworld and ruled over by the devil himself.

I spent three long months among the denizens of that nightmarish place, wrestling every minute to maintain my sanity. I had never before experienced such a heightened degree of chaos in any workplace, and I can honestly say it was the worst three months of my life.

I’m pretty tough, but I still almost lost the battle and succumbed. All that chaos kept my head spinning and I began to forget the world contained friendly faces, pats on the back, and laughter, because at this office there were only scowls, backstabbing, and curses.

Ohhh. There is that shiver again.

It was so horrible, so much evil, so…so…so….

I know what you are thinking, “There she goes, letting her writer’s imagination run away with her. A portal to the underworld, indeed!”

Whether you believe me or not is up to you. But I now know that evil does exist in the world, and it sometimes disguises itself as genial-seeming managers.

Chaos and backstabbing, a menacing combination.