Yay for me!

I just turned in my weekly article and I had to tell someone - even though it's nearly 2am. Yay me! I love having my Fridays free to... well, work on other stuff. I really feel like it's important to work on my ultrasound article first every week. I mean, that's my repeating, dependable job. But sometimes it doesn't leave a lot of time for working on anything else. And these other things do have deadlines of their own. Eeegh. Where does all the time go?

My favorite author

I developed a great love for reading reading books by this author. I waited for the next book to be published each and every time. I cried today when I read that he past away. An author can touch our lives as much as family does in so many ways and in some ways much more deeply. This is part of my life that is no longer going to be there for me. I am so sad. I am crying. I will miss you Robert Jordan (pen name). I will miss you James Oliver Rigney, Jr. (October 17, 1948 - September 16, 2007) I am so sad...

post-conference recovery and catch-up

I'm glad I went to the Austin Game Developers Conference last week. I really am. I got to hang out with good friends, got to see the current state of the art in game writing, got to represent the trade organization (IGDA) I do a lot of volunteer work for, and apparently I perfected my "elevator speech" of who I am and what I do. I did some valuable networking, too. One person even said, "Someone should do a bio piece on you for some magazine. You have a really interesting story." That got me to thinking why that hasn't happened. One reason it hasn't happened is that I sometimes work as press. And in the press, it's sort of bad form to go around interviewing each other (after you graduate from journalism school). So that got me thinking more. Maybe I should be the one to write the piece anyway. Hmm. I guess I'll add it to my list of things to do. Somehow that gets longer and longer every day even though I'm working harder and harder at crossing things off.

(Almost) too much of a good thing

As a writer, I'm supposed to avoid cliches. But the whole "It never rains, it pours" thing? It works for me right now. One article down, two to go (all must be completed today) for a movie project. Production monkey work begging me to come in. An interview I did long, long ago really, really needs to be written up, and that's got to happen by Thursday. (And yes, I'm cursing myself for not tackling it sooner, but transcribing is the bane of my existence.) The new TV season is starting up, so all of my TV jobs are going mental. And next week, I've got a medical conference to cover. Plus, all of my windows are being replaced on Saturday, so I don't even get to sleep in. I often say I'd rather have too much work than not enough. And every once in a while, fate decides to test that. Lucky me. It looks like I'll be going pretty much flat our until the 24th. Then, I sleep. A lot. Still beats the hell out of an office job though, right? Right?

How I mourned the Twin Towers

I remember where I was when the towers fell. I was at work. I remember the boring form I was working on to setup a cross reference entry point for customer and railroad access lines. I bought and carried a silver coin with a beautiful enameled representation of the twin towers. I mourned the towers a little each day as I would slip my hand in my pocket and felt it. I said to myself that I will always mourn the towers, but knew that my healing would be complete the day that I lost the coin. I still remember the day I lost the coin and I know where I lost it. I was on my bike riding in the MS150. The water tower was in sight signaling the finish line being near. I stopped along side the road for a quick break with my companion and best Friend, Amanda. I felt the coin in my pocket and felt a little sad. At the finish line we went around and did all the celebratory things that one does after riding all day long and accomplishing so much. I reached my hand in my pocket as was my habit to do frequently during each day. I don't think anyone ever noticed my strange quirk of reaching into my pocket occasionally, but that day, I looked at Amanda and told her that I lost my coin. I wanted to cry a little, but I had always said that when I lost it, I would allow myself to accept the loss and tragedy. I could have gone back. It was only a couple miles. I knew where to look, but sometimes you have to stop holding onto the grief. I still remember where I was when I heard the news about the towers, but also, I remember the beautiful day that I allowed myself to stop mourning. I still have fond memories and love seeing the twin towers in the older Friends episodes, but the coin that I can still feel in my mind may have been found alongside the road by someone else that needed to mourn more than I did.