Saturday, 24 May 2008

I've Had a Week

Mood: Reporting
[Toot!] Index: 0.0
Communism Bit: On
Location: Job, of course


I've had a week. Written more in this week, on this blog, than I have in some whole months. I'm close to one hundred posts in my archive! :o)
And not just my blog. I've been spewing lots of verbose comments in places. It's a habit I'm trying to fight (not that it is always bad, but you know ... Summer Glau may find me). Anyway, maybe I'll just comment less. Especially on topics that get me worked up. So if I vanish from your blogs, I'm trying to keep from blogging on them.

Iwaya is an écrivain nonpareil. Some people pronounce the name as eew-eye-ah, but me, I go like eye-why-ah. So, Iwaya writes well. I've collected and lost many links of his things, but there is this one, To My Unborn Daughters that I didn't lose. Go and read already. It's got some things typical of Iwaya's current style. Starts out like a friend seated across you in the pub. Then it gets ghostly about the stomach, grows darker. Red capillaries show up in its eyes later on, and a tear drop is set free about the knees, and by the time you reach the calf of the story, the pub buddy has vanished and has been replaced by the blind veteran telling a deep, dark story. The story gets to the foot, and the pub friend is back. And you wonder how it happened, and he is not revealing the trick. Iwaya. :o)
Will you please go and read that story?

Leads me to ...
I'm discovering the work of a story-teller. Maybe, some day, when I'm retired, I'll become a story-teller. You know, gather people around, maybe kids, and spin 'em a yarn. Maybe on a stage, although I have the most stage fright of any human.
There is this pretty girl I write stories for, these days. She says she likes them. The way we do it, I have no way to edit a line I've sent. It is done in chat, so the story must hold well as you go. No chances to use backspace. Every line I write is sent, and that's that. It's a nice experience.
I wanted to start off with a few lines (hence the telling format), and it grew into a series.
Previously in the story: the boy has killed the Soldier, and the girl is with the doctor. And the Police is looking for the boy. People had been hanged for smaller crimes. Where will the story go? I don't know, either, because most of the stuff comes as I type it.

Also, my cat had four kittens, and I'm so proud of them. Two are black (one more-so than the other), one is like beige with orange-like stripes, and the other pure white (I think it's an albino; I'll see). They are a cute bunch. I have taken pictures, but I don't have the cable with me. I'll upload them, sometime.
The white one gets me worried when it hyperventilates and then sneezes (or something). But we'll all be fine. :o)

Plus, I'm probably quitting my job, now. Soon. Things done happened. I'm excited about it, as well as worried. I just got four kittens, and it's just simply no time to be broke.
Also, I want to hire an adungu and record myself singing to my Ma and send her the record.
I'm supposed to be starting my own company, but I'm really too broke for it. I'll go into it, all the same, because I'll never be ready. I've learnt to burn my bridges behind me to create a reason to march forward.
So, if you find me begging by the roadside, sometime, help a brother out.
But seriously, I'm going to be broke. :o( Broke and busy.

For the disobedient, now that I've finished, here you are: go and read.

13 comments:

Esquire of the mountain said...

summer glau! sounds like Tom Gau and Paul Revere which leads me to my point which is that am actually currently reading the Tipping point and in mention is made of connectors, mavens and sales men...you my friend are one of them, so dont stop visiting the blogs(and commenting while you are it)...there is strength in weak ties(if am speaking gibberish, read the book, you will understand)...
and now onto your quitting the job to start your own thing...excellent choice..just burn the bridges with a small flame and perhaps half way so if you need to rebuild, you dont rebuild the whole friggin bridge!

Tandra said...

solid point esq. abt the small flame..

little ones..yay

Qn.. where u gonna get one? an addungu i mean..

gayuganda said...

I like this. Read it to the end. But for the love of me, I cant put a finger to the why. Maybe because it is not that angry.

Strike out. Burn the bridges, with a small flame. Seek out and find what you are. Uganda at the moment is a very fertile garden, with the one ready to rise to the occasion, likely to succede.

Of course there are pitfalls. But life is like that.

And the best of luck

gug

leos child said...

am glad someone is treading where many of us cant unaided once tried staring my company and all i could manage was getting the name for the company simply beause i didnt have money to start out but also mostly because i was afraid to strike out on my home.am happy some one is being more sensible than i was.keep posting and let us know how it goes.i might get the courage to after all.

leos child said...

sorry i meant to strike out on my own.

feather said...

pictures of the cats...we want

Peace said...

I wish I could also quit my job to start my own company.

Something tells me you won't be broke especially if it is to do with IT.

petesmama said...

Strike out bravely!

Flourish and prosper!

Create a company and jobs!

Hire me! (please?)

Xena said...

Oh how brave you are!! Am getting more inspired to quit my shitty job where i work from dawn till almost the next dawn for the boss to take home millions while my kids stay home hungry instead of being in school!!!
Now, where was i before i drifted off? Yes, please strike out on your own and make it big so you can hire us and perhaps not exploit us..... :)

Xena said...

I looooove white cats, some? can i adopt yours? Seeing as soon things will be too tight for you to feed yourself yet alone four cats.....
am being nice and offering....

DeTamble said...

I was not disobedient. I went and read the first time I was told.

Good luck and God speed Comrade!

DeTamble said...

Wait a second! You're writing stories for pretty girls? Where the hell is my story then!? You Pill-head!

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