I Ain't Afraid of No Daleks

One of the biggest stories to hit the city of Glens Falls, NY (pop. 15,000) of late, is the opening of the new roundabout! OHHHHH! NEAT-O! Forget the Hyde Collection and it's fine art, Cooper's Cave and the civic center...we have roundabout now! Zowee! Golly Gee Whiz!

I mean they had a parade of antique cars and floats, bands and news crews--whoa! Can you stand the excitement?

Someone actually posted of video on YouTube of it!

WHHHHEEEEE!!!!

Doctor Who: The Run for Rose

CHAPTER 10: Reunion

In an instant, the Doctor was kneeling beside Rose’s pale, inert form. Jane knelt down beside him, feeling Rose’s wrist for a sign of a pulse--there was none. The Doctor yanked out his sonic screwdriver and focused on Rose’s head. He sighed audibly.

Just then, a loud screech came from the kitchen. “My temporal shift resonator!” The Doctor cried, as he ran into the kitchen. Jane followed suit, and even Rose scrambled up from the sofa to have a look. The strange box in the kitchen was shaking and smoking, making a terrible racket. The dials glowed red and green, as the surface of the table began slowly to melt from the heat. “Get back! Yelled the Doctor, as he moved towards it, “It may explode at any moment!”

Tough cheese old girl, this is what you've got, deal with it. What is it, I wonder, that has such a firm hold upon my life, that I cannot seem to succeed, no matter how hard I try? Is it fate, a curse, or is it just plain, old-fashioned bad luck?

Let's address the subject of fate, for a moment. I don't like to dwell too much, on all the loneliness, grief, destruction and hardship of the past year and a half. To think on it too hard, would surely destroy me. Life truly is a road. For the fortunate, it is well-paved and clearly marked, and has not too many barriers in its path. For many, the road has its twists and turns, its hills and valleys, but none that cannot be negotiated with modest effort. And for some, our roads are completely unpredictable. There are times when the way is smooth and relatively carefree--and other times when it's just two muddy ruts on a vast deserted plain. There are huge mountains to scale and barren desserts to cross, with many an unmarked cliff and hairpin turn. That'd be me.

Emerson once wrote, "The way of province is a little rude." Rude indeed, for me, of late--downright mean and dirty-minded. I mean, just when I think the bad stuff is done--whoops, no, not quite...and sometimes the thought of living past 50, makes me so very weary of the journey.

I laughed when I read that horoscope someone sent me. Oh, the parts about the past year, were surprisingly true, in some respects--but the predictions? Ha! Yeah, like the one about "promising offers arriving in May?" Come again? What a load of bull that one is! Oh, wait, I'm about to have my part-time wages taken from me by my student lenders in a law suit--hardly promising, ey? May is nearly done, where's this fictional Prince Charming? Sitting at home on his sofa, watching the football and scratching himself, most likely. My "progress report is glittering with gold stars." The only gold stars I've seen, is when I hit my head and got a concussion back in November. Puh-lease!

My "fortunes are on the rise." Well, true, I did save myself 10 dollars, by taking the bus instead of a cab.

Oh, but come fall, it looks promising for "real estate transactions." Yeah? Does that mean that I'll get a bigger cardboard box in a posher alley?

Socially and romantically, I'm supposedly feeling "stirred up and adventurous." I am? What I'm really feeling is tired and old--toss that prediction in the old rubbish bin. I'll be "out and about," doing the meet and greet--yeah, in the breadline, maybe. You meet some swell people in the soup kitchen. I'm even going to meet new people who are "going to change" my life! Ummm--lawyers for the student loan company? The Salvation Army or Red Cross, when I finally lose my home?

The most chilling prediction: "By the end of summer, you'll be home-free." Yeah, well, I expect for me, that'll be a literal translation.

Road Trip!

First, take I-787 that runs along the Hudson River to Albany's Empire State Plaza:

Funny, the advert on the radio talks about Willard Mountain ski area--my dad used to drive a school bus and took groups there, and sometimes he brought me along for company--we once took the ski lift to the top, and walked down--very slowly I might add, as it was slippery. It was kind of neat, though. That was over 20 years ago, I'd not thought of that in years.

Another cool memory--this one from my teen years--the state's Independence Day firework's celebration--it was awesome! In later years, instead of dad and mum taking us two girls, it became me, taking mum. It was just the best time--the music, the food, and, of course, the wonderful fireworks:

The original title of The Run for Rose was "Racing Colors." It started out life as a horse story/murder mystery. In the Original tale, Jane comes out to the barn and finds, not Rose, but one of her clients, in the horse's stall--or rather, the client's head--in the hay rack--with the body missing. And, my use of colors in the story, deliberately reflected the plot. But, I found that the story was a bit too..well...slow and boring. I felt I was trying to be too...artsy. Too much like those chick-lit, trendy, Oprah novels one of my English professors kept trying to foist on me. No matter how many re-writes I did, I just couldn't find that spark. If I ain't feelin' spark, I dump the story.

What's a "spark?" It's sort of hard to describe, but I guess it could be called a focus point--a centered feeling, a bright light inside my gut, that tells me, while I'm writing, "now you're cookin' with gas." It's...just really hard to describe. It just...feels right, you know? That's not to say that what I'm writing is brilliant or anything--only that when I have "spark," writing is just ten times more fun. It's almost like the story starts writing itself. It's an amazing sensation. It's why I write, quite frankly--just on the off chance of "spark."

Of course, sometimes I'll go back, like I did with Bodysnatchers, and think that I could do it better--and hopefully, the re-write of the BS on this blog, was better than the original, published on Teaspoon and an Open Mind, back in early September. I don't think I'll ever know that for certain, but I personally felt the second version was much, much better.

I used harness horses, as I had spent February to mid-July of 2006, working as the sole office cleaner at a harness racing/slot casino complex in nearby Saratoga Springs. I adore horses, and tho' I hated my job (it wasn't just dirty and low-paying, it was extremely painful, as well) I loved being near the horses. I could watch the night races during my breaks, chat with a few fellow horse people that I knew personally, watch the racers train on the two tracks everyday. And--during dinner on Fridays--a few times I was able to schedule my two breaks back-to-back on Fridays--I got to watch (twice) Dr Who on the employee lounge's big-screen television. That was rather cool. I only got to do that twice, tho, as baseball season was upon us, and the guys tended to hog the TV set.

Anyway, that's where the harness racing idea came from--that and a great one-off mystery novel by a lady named Pat Hewett, which takes place at a harness track in California.

So, the setting. Oh yes, I've lived the setting, very much so--more than once. You've not lived 'till you've tried walking a pair of horses down an ice-covered drive, and the horses feeling frisky--oh, what a joy that experience is. NOT.

I've lived in, been out in the woods, during the type of weather described in the story...all the sounds and sights are as accurate as I am able to describe them. A northeastern sleet/freezing rain storm is a miserable, miserable thing.

And, that's my point in the story--that the monsters can be scary, but..the things around us--like mother nature, can carry their own horrors, as well. So, my aim in this story, was for there to be a dual element of suspense and darkness--the mysterious being in the cellar, and the real threat of the weather--and I am going to use that to..no, you'll just have to wait, to see what happens, sorry.

"What d'ya mean, comb my hair--I just did!"

Latest thing burning up the fan forums: That the mystery of "you are not alone" is connected to the Doctor's beginnings--Susan. Let's see, what else...oh, the Face of Boe's saga will continue...and, as we heard from a fellow blogger, that among the famous celebs slated to appear in Series Four is Woody Allen as Einstein--I'm hoping that's just a RTD practical joke, as I've never been an Allen fan. Nothing against him, just hate the whinging, over-the-top self-depreciating humor...it's been a tad overdone, methinks...and it would seriously mess with my suspension of disbelief--unless, of course, he were like Ms. Parish and Mark Gatiss, and totally changed from the norm. That would be okay, I suppose.

And, of course, despite all the conjecture that he's leaving mid-way through, NOW people are saying that Mr. Tennant is staying on through Series 4, bless.

Speaking of Tennant, I watched a brief clip tonight, that was sent to me, of Saturday's episode, "42." WOW!!! I mean, the clip was only 2 minutes, but...holy cow, was Tennant's acting smoking hot..the man's a blinking pistol! And, to give her her due, Ms. Agyeman was fantastic as well. I was quite moved, by the clip. It was just...wow. Knocked my socks off--and that isn't easy, as I was wearing laced up hiking boots, at the time.

MARTHA: "If he asks me to tell him how much he looks like James Bond again, I'm gonna' hurl!" DOCTOR: "I'll have a banana daiquiri, shaken, not stirred."

Ever have a migraine headache? Try having one in one whole side of your face...ow. I thought/ the bad tooth was getting better, should'a known. Oh, the abscess went down, but now, it seems, the infection's spreading. Wonderful. I have to spend the next day or two, trying to track down a really cheap dentist. The problem is, and I hate like hell to admit this publicly, but the thing is...I'm already missing quite a few teeth, many more and I actually will be gumming my food. But that's my new motto, isn't it: Life sucks, then you die, ha-ha.