I Ain't Afraid of No Daleks

The blank page is a door, a pen or keyboard unbars that door and the mind and heart swing it wide--or slam it shut in your face.

The words spill across the white space like a opened vein spilling the life and soul of the writer across the floor of the world.

So, why do my veins seem so dry, of late?

You know, I haven't written anything in ages...I mean, other than some rotten poems..no fan fics, no plays...nothing. I did a few short essays on writing, and one on family, and of course, some crappy blog posts, but really--my creative writing is rubbish lately, and I can't seem to motivate myself to write. That's bad. That's very bad indeed. I love to write...well, I used to.

What the hell is wrong with me???

I don't like this. Something isn't quite right with me, of late...but I can't put my finger on just what it is. Only the vaugue notion that I'm not myself, like...I don't know. I just don't feel much like "me" lately. I feel like someone else---NO, I don't mean split personality.

I'm very definately not hearing voices...right Harvey?

It's Monday, and it's dragging on towards the dreaded 4pm start of my new Monday-Friday shift.

I start the new job tonight. God, that's what it feels like. I've been doing the same work for 2 and 3/4 years, now I have to do something totally and utterly different. Also, the office rules and appearence have changed virutally overnight..loads of new employees--so it really is like having the carpet yanked out from under you, and starting all over.

That's not bad at 20 or 30, or even 40...but, come October, I'm going to be one year shy of the half-century mark. Blimey! I feel old. No really, I do. I feel some days lately, like I've lived forever. Like all the good stuff is behind me, and I'm just going through the motions, until I buy the farm and end up as dust in some cardboard box somewhere.

My brain isn't working as well as it used to. I'd prayed my writing would get better--but, not much change. So, it wasn't my wonky eyes, after all. It's my stinking wonky brain.

Have I mentioned that I'm depressed as hell? I'd hoped my wee four day holiday would help, but..no. I more relaxed than I've been in a long while. But not feeling very rested. I'm too tense, too scared. I'm trying not to be scared. Hell, if I could stand there alone in intensive care signing off mum's life support, if I could face losing my home, face beng alone, hunger, all the pain and all that crap...I can do this.

I guess I'm afraid that some day though--and not that too far off--my back will finally be broken. It almost happened last year, coping with the illness, the pay cut at work, coming a hairsbreath of being homeless and the fiasco with getting my disablity re-instated. I damn near gave up, last year...that damaged me, that did. Now, I barely care anymore.

God, I had such plans for myself, back at the start of the 21st century. Hope is for day dreamers and suckers. There is nothing but putting one foot in front of the other, for someone like me, just going forth from day to day, without taking my eyes off of the pavement in front of me. I should have understood that...but I was blinded by hope and dreams. Well, not any more.

Which is why I'm going into work tonight, and not just quitting and finding some no-brainer job like sweeping floors and folding motel towels (I can in fact, do the special "hotel towel fold" practically in my sleep--so if anyone is in need of a towel washer/folder in their hotel/motel, I'm yer gal).

I'm going in, precisely because I don't care. I'll either cope, or I won't. If I don't, well, we'll see what we see. If I do, maybe someday I'll actually like my job--it's highly unlikely, but...one thing I've learned of late, is that the only constant in life...is that nothing is constant. You cannot depend on anything. The gospel according to playwrite27.

I don't want it to be Monday. I don't want this job, this life, this place where I live...but, the alternative, is an ugly, ugly thing, even a worse hell then this one.

Surfing the net today, I found a blogger who claims that the US government tested a bomb today, at a secret underground facility in the mountains of Nevada.

The blogger directed people to the USGS (U.S. Geological Survey) earthquake site--where in fact, a 3.0 tremor was recorded today. The blogger points out the depth of the quake...which registers as zero, and claims the tremor is from a secret test by the U.S. government.

The blogger goes on to point out that U.S. is being hypocritical, asking Iran and North Korea, Russia and other nations to put their nuclear arsenal on hold, while continuing to test new weapons of our own.

I surfed away from the site, x'ing out and checking out the Guardian online...then decided to post about this nutjob blogger...and now I can't find the blog again. So, sorry there's no link. If I can find it again later, I'll post a link.

But, through this all, I cannot help but wonder: if the underground government base is "secret," if the test was "secret," how the hell does this blogger know about it? Something isn't a secret if any old person surfing the net, knows about it.

Sometimes you find the most unusual blogs in a random search...which is why I do it, sometimes.

Maybe it's those dastardly Daleks, hiding underground and plotting to destroy the planet.

A list just came out, of the fastest declining cities in the USA--that is, cities losing about five to ten percent of their population.

New York state has three such cities on that list. That's not good, is it? Well, my state has some of the highest taxes in the nation, so not that surprising.

Buffalo, Syracuse and Rochester--all cities in western New York state, have lost large swaths of their population...in some cases, largely due to the loss of major manufacturers and/or other massive corporations.

Buffalo is number three on the list, losing about 21,500 of it's citizens since 2000.

But, that's nothing to Flint, Michigan, which has lost some 113,000 people from its tax roles, since 2000.

Other cities include three cities in Ohio, Pittsburg Pennsylvania and Hialeah Florida, and a tie for 10th place between Jackson Mississippi, and Birmingham Alabama.

This is for my good friend Cassie, who's a fan of both Barrowman and Tennant (and who isn't?).

Poor Mr. Davies sounds like he's come down with a bad cold...or maybe just a sore throat. Hope he feels better soon, whatever is ailing him, such a good man...and one helluva writer, of course.

Such lovely (and lucky) people, this is a great video:

It's going for half-past one in the morning here. I'd be in bed, sleeping, but apparently, the boys upstairs have been hitting the sauce again, and are so snockered, they are--very literally--falling down drunk. Twice I was woken by the--by now--very distinctive sound of a heavy body falling on the floor....right over my head where I sleep.

Well, at least if I find myself in a dinner party in some country mansion on a stormy night, and the lights go out, followed by a loud thump, and everyone goes, "What's that?!?" I can say, "Oh, it's just a body falling on the floor..it was probably the butler offing Professor Plumb with a lead pipe."

OK, now I'm just being silly, sorry.

My four day holiday is officially over.

I have been dreading Monday like you wouldn't believe. I've not said on my blog--which says quite a bit about how I feel, if I'm so fretted with trepidation, that I don't even want to blog about it.

You see, Monday I go live. What that means is, I start making calls on this brand new system. That would be the system where they gave me incomplete training--two week's training in less than two days. I'm rubbish at computer stuff. If it were just a script I had to do, hell--I can read off a script, any script, practically in my sleep, with a hangover, after not sleeping for 48 hours. Scripts are the easy part. No, it's all this crap I have to do, BESIDES saying the script.

I suck at multi-tasking. It's my wonky brain. It's why I had to get a special waver from the dean of our community college, to do an essay for my maths finals, instead of taking the final exam with the rest of the class. I like algerbra--sort of, but my brain won't let me do it. It won't let me do anything in reverse--including backing a car, that's something I have to do, very carefully--and multi-tasking is possible and doable for me, but--also for me, it is very slow and unweildy.

I'm scared. Really, really, really scared. I don't like feeling stupid. I don't handle feeling stupid very well. Sorry, but it's true. It's not something I'm proud of, but..that's just the way it is. I hate myself so much, some times--especially when I feel stupid. Computers make me feel so incredly dumb and helpless...god, I don't like feeling helpless, either. My independence, my ability to do things....that's all I have left in this life, to hold on to. Do you understand? Well, if you don't, that's OK.

Still, I keep telling myself that maybe it won't be so bad. I tell myself to try not to freak out--oh, and i can freak out when I'm flustered. I don't like to admit that, and maybe I shouldn't, in a public post, but--there ya' go. That's me. That's who I am.

I'm trying to keep some perspective, going into tomorrrow. I go in at 4pm, on my new weekdays only schedule. I am trying to tell myself that I got through four years of absolute hell--much of it entirely (and literally) alone, without offing myself (tho' there was that close shave, back in autumn of '06). I got through it, I'm not homeless, I'm not dead, I'm still here. So...bite the bullet and just TRY.

If I make the adjustment, good. If I don't...well, quit this job with the communications firm, and go back to cleaning loo's and picking up empty beer cups in the casino, or working a motel laundry, or...whatever. The truth is, I really am a bit of a slow learner--yes, I can get straight A's, but it comes so very hard, to me..and only if I grasp the material well.

Well I know, that really all I'm really good for in this life, is drudge labour. College got me nowhere but so far in debt I'll never get out. I'll always be poor, I'll always be nobody, and when I die, my passing will largely unnoticed--don't tell me otherwise, I know different. It happened to my mum, it will happen to me.

Reality check: Everything I am, and what little I've done--will be gone, like I never existed. I could die tonight, and it will be days before anyone notices. Hell, when I get put into hospital, no one notices I'm not around. Not ever. Well, except for the cats, I suppose. They get quite upset if they don't get their tinned cat food treat in the morning/evening. And..that's just the way my life is. The way it always will be, from now until I finally do off it. I accept that. It's not pleasant to realize, but I've had this knowledge pounded into me, and I've come to terms with it.

Still, I don't want to go into work tomorrow night. I don't want to feel helpless and stupid. I want so desperately to be good at what I do, and when I'm not, I'm afraid I tend to take it a bit personally. That's why I won't try writing professionally--I am painfully aware that I am not good enough to go "pro." OK, I've got an adequate speaking voice, I'm good at reading scripts, been handling phone calls in a professional type capacity since mum taught me how to professionally answer the (only) phone at her library, back in 1974...but I'm so lost with multi-tasking and computer stuff....how the hell am I going to do this???

But I suppose I must give it a chance, at least for a few weeks. But god...I am quite scared. I've been trying to ignore the feeling all weekend, not always successfully. I'm actually very depressed.

Some days--sorry, but I'm afraid this is true, some days, I wish I hadn't changed my mind, that October night. But...then it passes, and I know that I'm a stubborn, cranky old maid, who doesn't like to quit easily (even tho' it's very tempting). Really, I don't know any other way, but the hard way--so I guess I'll just have to suffer through this week, and see where the chips lie on the table, come Friday night.

So, now it's 2am, and I have to get some sleep--also have to get a new keyboard, these darn keys keep sticking. I don't want it to be tomorrow, but I guess it already is.

I went to the Degas exhibit at the Hyde Collection this weekend. I've not blogged about it, because I went late near clsing time, and didn't have all the time I wanted, to really take it in. So, when I get a chance to go back. I'll blog about what I saw, and my thoughts.

In the meantime, there's some interesting stuff going on, over across the Massachusetts border, in the northern Berkshire mountains--just "down the hill" from my sister's Vermont town.

MASS MoCA in North Adams, Mass, has some cool stuff to look at.

There's Sol LeWitt's "A Wall Drawing Perspective." A panel of 65 artists and art students completed a wall that took five years to do. It's a permanent installation. You can download and view the i-tunes tour, here: http://www.massmoca.org/event_details.php?id=27

And one of Guy Ben-Ner's nutty videos, "Thursday the 12th." I've posted his Moby Dick video on here, which was shown at MASS MoCA, as well. Interestingly enough, the author of Moby Dick, Herman Melville, wrote this novel in the Berkshires of Massachusetts, while living in a town outside of the city of Pittsfield, Mass.

Through this summer is an exhibit I wish I could see, called, "The Nanjing Particles" by Simon Sterling. That looks very cool. Sort of looks like it's alive, ha-ha. That will be at MASS MoCA only until the end of October.

GUY BEN-NER'S "MOBY DICK" PART I