100 Things #10: Learning Something New.

Note: I’ve tried to post this several times now, but every client I’ve used recently has freaked out every time. This time it should fly, though…aaaand I probably jinxed it.

I’m a sucker when something catches my interests. Like cooking exotic foods. I see it, I find it interesting, and then I go out of my way to see if I can learn how to do/make it, no matter what decides to jump in my way to stop me. For instance, learning how to make sushi. The fact that I live in a fairly rough area, black majority, was one of the first things that got in my way, but not in the way that you’d think.

No, the problem I had was with the area’s miniscule food vocabulary.

“What’s short-grain rice? That like Riceland?” “Rice pudding…what is that?” “You looking for TOFU? But—you ain’t Japanese…?” and my personal favorite: “But black people don’t eat that!”

At that last one, I literally laughed in the clerk’s face and went to the store’s branch three towns over.

 

I’m the same way with video games, whether it be an exploit or legit gameplay.

And I took the same approach when I did my first NaNoWriMo—I learned I CAN write something of a novel’s length. I also learned that you can’t rush that stuff…as it goes, I’m about to start the third part using this November as a springboard—which is where I learned that pacing is a tricky demon to corral, and also that the original plan for the project that I had is going to be MUCH trickier than I thought.

Good thing I bought Chuck Wendig’s latest book of stupid writer tricks. I know I can do this with the angel monkey on one shoulder and the devil monkey in the fridge making my coffee brew faster. (The devil monkey refuses to work without at least two cups of coffee in my system.)

Chrysanth WebStory Published by WebStory

(slightly longer than) Flash fiction: Fifty Strangers.

Intended to be a flash fiction challenge prompted by the BG of Ommwriter, wound up being a little longer than I intended. Entirely off the top of my head, written in the span of about a half hour or so. I didn’t know where it was going until the punch bowl–which became a running gag of sorts. I’d intended on warming up for Camp NaNoWriMo with this and suddenly…WEIRD.

 

I don’t have a topic for said event but am considering expanding this somehow. I’d better come up with something!

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Belarus admits air invasion by teddy bears: Quite possibly the cutest political message I’ve ever seen.

http://content.usatoday.com/communities/ondeadline/post/2012/07/belarus-leaders-admits-air-invasion-by-teddy-bears/1#.UBSd7Ls1hTI Free speech is something we take for granted in the US. So hearing about something like this gets me to thinking about how we have it here, and about how other nations have it. And specifically this…I’m not sure how they came up with this idea, but if their aim was to get the international community to squee with delight, I consider this a win.

LOL. My Family.

~Earlier Today…~

The phone rings—it’s Godot’s theme from the Phoenix Wright games, a coffee-themed jazz tune. Dad’s calling.

“H’lo?”

Hey!” Delivery truck sounds like it could use a muffler—he has to shout. “Get down here, I got the stuff!”

“Got it!”

The ‘stuff’ is fresh garden stuff and a microwave. The one I’ve got right now is three bags of popcorn away from being completely dead. (It’s moving steadily slower—I knew it was time to get the thing replaced when it took nearabouts ten minutes to pop a bag of popcorn.)

I make my way downstairs and see my dad, who happens to be next to a young man who looks vaguely familiar. I don’t have any sort of recognition going on, until I make a point of looking directly at him (it’s easier for me not to look directly at males lately), when suddenly I realize—this kid looks like what I would if I’d inherited the Y chromosome instead of the X from our father. That, and the “OMFG OMG STRANGE MALE RUN” response doesn’t kick in.

“Kid bro!” I squeal and run up to the truck.

(I think I should mention that my kid brother Jules is athletic, LUDICROUSLY smart, has my tolerance for bullshit from other people (read: JACK AND SHIT), was one of the first people to out me as bi (He caught me staring at a certain android on a certain series that went well over nine thousand memes—and for the record he has no problem with it), and plays video games the way I do: almost all the time and can discuss everything about all the ones he plays.

In other words, DEFINITELY my little bro.)

There’s handshakes and hugging and squealing as we follow Dad lugging the thing upstairs. We catch up on the way up, talking about sports, classes, books, video games, how blind Dad is (FULL DISCLOSURE: I’m blinder. He wears a prescription about half that of mine).

Soon enough we’re in the middle of the apartment, deciding the middle of the floor’s just fine. We’re still discussing stuff, in this case video games, and then we get into the talk of video games. Dad and I start suggesting a certain game for Jules to play, and it’s quite possibly the weirdest thing any random passerby would have seen—short woman in a hairnet and big tall guy built like Bruce Lee pretty much squeeing over a game, complete with “Eee!” and “I KNOW!” screams, when—

“Nah. Final Fantasy’s kiddie.”

I SWEAR I heard the cosmic record needle scratch. Both I and my dad do an ACTUAL double-take.

“WHAT!?” we both shout.

“I mean, it’s so kiddie and—”

FINAL FANTASY IS NOT KIDDIE!” we both retort.

“Awesome story—”

“Stuff blowing up—”

“THE MUSIC!”

Dad and I keep going like that for a while.

 

…sometimes, my family’s awesome.