Woodsidian Sentiment

Mark's Cleaning Service to Kevin: YOU'RE FIRED

2010-07-21T21:57:00.000-07:00

The first job I ever had was at St. Luke's Nursing Home. It was also the worst. In a small, crowded kitchen, I was yelled out for not knowing what I was doing; insulted for not wanting to touch half-eatten food; and generally in misery. So I quit after two days.

The second job I had was Acme, where I spent almost nine soul-crushing years working for the Man. Public Storage came after that, my favorite of all and currently the one I plan to stick with for at least a little while.

I have never been fired . . . until today.

Here's how the saga went:

I picked up Mark's Cleaning Service because I desperately needed the in-come. Tricia on bed rest, baby on her way, pressure to pay off some bills, more bills added . . . I needed the money.

I went to the interview and was told the place I would be cleaning was just over on Home Ave. Great, three minutes away. Went back to the office the next week and found out that I'm in fact not working there, but instead out in Wadsworth, where I would be working Saturday and Sunday's, 7-9:00 PM. Cleaning parks.

Driving 20-30 minutes out to Wadsworth, I found out that I was in fact really working 8:30-11:00 PM. I had one day of training, as my trainer crapped out the second and no one else could be bothered to come out to help me. I had to throw in the towel after 90 minutes of driving through Wadsworth not knowing where I was going.

Parks wasn't too bad once I got into the swing of things. But this was when things were getting scary with Tricia's pregnancy. I wasn't comfortable being so far away in case there was an emergency. So I asked for something closer to Akron. They found me something in Fairlawn. You can read about those adventures in my previous note.

I need to point out a few things at this point:
1) No one showed me how to clock in or out
2) I never recieved my ID badge
3) My vacation/time off request (which I ended up not even taking, but that's besides the point) was never even looked at
4) The woman who trained me at the doctor's office and medical building didn't say squat about the job I was doing; she actually more rude than educational

So anyways, I was just starting to kinda figure out what I was doing at the offices when my boss called me today. He said that the doctor's office wasn't pleased with the job I was doing. He listed off some stuff like not changing the lining in the garbage cans (something I was told not to do during training); not sweeping thoroughly (I can agree with this -- I sucked [no pun intended]); and some other stuff I missed. Apparently.

He wasn't a dick about it, which I appreciated. He was honest and the doctors office did threaten to cancel their contract with Marks. I really wish he had given me a second chance, but I guess I understand. The boss seemed pretty fair and worked well with me (he had previously apologized for the parks training fiasco and approved my request to transfer over to Akron from Wadsworth). He said over and over again that it wasn't personal and that he had to do what he felt was best. "Cleaning just isn't your thing" was the dominant part of the conversation. I told him I understood and that while I was disappointed, I agreed with his decision and would arrange to get the keys back.

I'm not the kinda guy that likes to blame other people, but the sheer lack communication seems to be an issue here. Clearly, the company lacks that. I wasn't trained properly at either location, I don't care what anyone says.

Ultimately, though, I did suck. I mean, even as I was working I couldn't help but think I was cut out for cleaning. I got no beef with the company itself and I guess this could be used as a testimoney to their dedication to a good days work --- they'll fire anyone who slacks off.

My personal belief is that you're never going to work a job that won't teach you something. That's why whenever someone I know bitches about not having a job, but refuses to take anything that's beneath them, I scuff. Customer service builds people skills and improves communication. Any office experience is good experience, skill-wise. What did I learn from this job?

I'm not a janitor.

Up, Up and . . . CRASH

2009-12-07T17:23:00.000-08:00

When I was 12 years old, I decided to create a super-hero. Sitting in my Dad's basement, sitting at the exact same desk I'm typing this at, I drew this super-hero and proceeded to draw him teaming up with the X-Men.

When I was 13 years old, I started writing short stories about this character, as well as other new characters. I finished these short stories early in the 8th grade, collected them in a binder and proceeded to write three sequels over the course of the year. I call this Version One.

I started Version Two the following Fall, just as I entered high school. Version Two was basically Version One, just with the first two books re-written. At the end of that year, I kicked off Version Three. Version Three was kingly. At this point, I had all my character down pat, I had revised my approach to the story and really put some serious work into building their universe. After I finished the four major books, I moved on and did sequels.

Sometime around the beginning of Junior year, I decided it was time for Version Four. Version Four was the culmination of all the re-writes. It was perfection in a black binder. I had friends read it at school and even had one of them do a wicked ass cover. Pre-Mrs. W even drew a picture of the main character (he looked nothing like how I pictured, but it impressed me).

I then did something stupid. Instead of going back re-writing it, I tried to write sequels to Version Four. What's worse, I wouldn't stop! The first sequel sucked and I knew it. I should have gone back to forumla, but instead . . . I tried for a trilogy. It stunk.

After Version Four, there have been numerous attempts at this story. Comic book scripts. Attempts to introduce the main character with amensia. Establishing the characters as they're a team as opposed to bringing them together.

Last year, unexpectedly, I ended writing a 12-part story about these characters. It was nothing too exciting and not my best, but I loved writing them again. It took place a few years after the story that's been attempted to be re-told a million times. Like I said, I loved it.

So I thought "Man, this is it. You had a good time writing them again, so let's go back to the beginning and start from ground zero."

And I wrote one chapter. And it was okay. Then I wrote the current chapter. And it was crap.

It's like this lightning in a bottle. I just can't write it anymore. I try. And try. And try and try and try and try and just can't get it right. I screw it up somewhere and the whole thing just collapses. Sentences are akward, paragraphs are too short, dialogue is funky, and I lose the ultimate direction I was moving in. Outlines don't help. "Beta" readers don't help (well, I have one and that's my wife). I stare at it and I see the letters melting to the bottom of my page in one digital blob of badness.

Ugh.

Dear Hipster . . .

2009-11-24T19:09:00.000-08:00

Dear Hipster,

I called you about fifty times, telling you about your storage unit. You haven't been paying for it and you haven't visited since last month. What the hell, man? Why did you even get it if you weren't going to pay or use it?

Well, anyways, just like I said in my voicemails, the lock cuts came and went. Your unit was full of abandoned goods -- unless you wanted to that really horrible loveseat that looked like it survived a war. Other than that, the remains of what looked like your sentimentality was left behind.

Today I threw away the following:
- a MOC (mint-on-card) Han Solo from the 1997 line of Star Wars figures
- a vintage "Empire Strikes Back" coloring book with at least 1/3 of the pages colored (mostly inside the lines)
- 12-13 beat-up copies of "Rolling Stone" magazine, all from around 1999-2001
- an Altell bill in someone else's name
- four post cards
- ten cards and letters
(I didn't read them)
- no less than four broken records
- a beat-up, inside-out cabby-hat
- a "Poor" issue of "Web of Spider-Man" # 3 (featuring Doc Ock)

Needless to say, this is all in the garbage. I have to ask you, Hipster, was this the last of your days as such? Did you shrug this off because that part of you is peeling away? Are parts of your Hipster image breaking off? Will I find your love of an independant coffee shop in my parking lot when you pay your balance? Will you will leave behind your Liberal Arts degree next time you get a storage unit? Perhaps it will scattered with your indy comics and empty casette cases. Was leaving us this mess a sign that you no longer wished to "go green?"

I admire Hipsters. I do. I wish I was one, but I don't have the credentials to back that up. I wonder now if you truly were one or perhaps it was yet another mask you put on to impress one of the many girls your notes were addressed to. My biggest indicator is the indy-produced magazine entitled "The Hipster." Issue 5 was found amongst shards of records and dirty clothing, photocopied and illustrated by someone who may have been from Highland Square. Why did you need this? A guide to the culture you wished to infiltrate?

I wonder what guise you will take on next? Business man? Nerd? Will your next storage unit be filled with "Esquire" or "Wizard?" Will you have "X-Men" # 3 or "Iron Man" # 3 in your unit? Will you have an MOC Lando in your next unit, to indicate that you have moved into the wheeling and dealing aspects of business? Or perhaps yet another Stormtrooper so that you can someday amass an army?

I'm just curious, is all.

In the end, I hope you pay this bill you left us. It took me way too long to throw your crap out.

Sincerely,

THE MAN

I love "The Office" -- It Needs to End

2009-11-20T05:20:00.000-08:00

I really do love "The Office." After six seasons, the show is still very funny and is still chock full of cringe-worthy moments of embarassment. The problem is, the show hit its creative high last season (agruably) and everything seems to be slowly slowly winding down.

In terms of character arcs, no one but Jim and Pam have been developed. And Jim and Pam are pretty much locked in unless something were to happen to the baby -- a move that would be extremely bad. This is a good thing, of course, but since their very sitcom wedding, the couple hasn't had much to do other than be in love and get ready for baby. They've given up on their bigger, more exciting dreams and integrated themselves into the company they both were so apathetic about in the beginning. There's no place to go with them unless something very drastic were to happen.

As for the rest of the gang . . . the drama level has dropped. All of the previous relationships (Dwight/Angela, Andy/Angela, Michael/Jan, Michael/Carol, Michael/Holly, Kelly/Ryan, Kelly/Daryl) have pretty much concluded and without it, there's this sort of "well, now what?" feel to the show's side characters. I'm not completely excited about an Andy/Erin hook-up.

Don't get me wrong here. The show is still very funny and I think the current subplot involving Dunder-Mifflin facing bankruptcy is what the show needs to continue through the end of this season. But honestly? Let's wrap it up.

My concern is that it'll lose it's luster, much like "Scrubs." Was "Scrubs" still good in its later seasons? Yes, but it lacked the charm and energy of its earlier seasons. I'd rather not see that happen to "The Office" -- I'd rather see it go out like "Seinfeld," and simply bow out before the characters became cliched versions of themselves.

So, let's do that. Let's conclude it.

Let's take through the end of the season. Push out one more season, where we start to bring the characters and the company itself to its end. Give Jim and Pam their baby. Find someone for Michael (Leslie Knope, I swear I ship this) and give Dwight a promotion. And then turn off the lights and lock the door.

-----

What inspired this? I had a dream I worked at Dunder-Mifflin, which emphasised how much I relate to Jim and Pam. Remember the arc when Pam moved to NYC to go to art school? Some of those scenes were like they transcripts of when Mrs. W lived in North Carolina -- in particular the one where she flunked out.

In addition to that, it also shows how the two of them have had to adapt and do what they must, even if it means not leaving the company. I feel ya.

We Can Rebuild It . . .

2009-11-19T20:45:00.000-08:00

I'm considering relaunching this blog as something more along the lines of the adventures of a college drop-out. After numerous attempts at finishing college, success has eluded me. Now I'm twenty-seven, work and live at a self-storage facility in Akron, Ohio. I spent nine years in the grocery business. My dreams of writing a best-selling novel has manfested in piles of Star Trek and He-Man fanfics.

Wow. That's depressing.

I can't say I'm happy with all the decisions I made. I try not to regret my life after high school, as I can't sit here and tell you that I didn't try and that I don't have anyone to blame for myself. Too many negatives there. Sorry.

Let's try this again.

I think that the idea of never finishing college will always haunt me. It's kind of a complex issue. I never had the opportunity to live in a dorm and do college-y things. I never got to learn the things I always wanted to learn. I live a life of financial instability and with the constant hope that something will happen that will boost me up to the next step.

But this is moot at this point. Let's be honest, I have no one to blame but myself when it comes to college. I was never able to prioritize it. I was never able to devote the kind of focus I needed to have on it. Part of that was my ADD and part of it was just me. Will I ever go back? I dunno. I can't afford it anymore. My wife tells me she wants to go back . . . but that determination seems to last about a week before it goes quiet and nothing gets said for another two months when we have a big, dramatic conversation about it.

Oy, but let's focus on me, huh?

Anyways, so I'm not pleased with myself in the college world, but it's not like I'm living the bad life. I have an apartment that I don't have to pay for (I did take a significant pay cut though), so as long as I have a job, I have a roof over my head. I have a job that has generally "okay" benefits. And hey, I'm getting some office experience, right? That'll help me when I finally get that mail room job I'll be gunning for in 8.5 years. ;)

I like this, actually. We're in it now and you're stuck wth me. Read this blog and know what happens when you drop out of college and need to wallow in your nerdiness to keep yourself feeling better. Read this blog and know what it is to be happily married, even if your backyard is the space between a golf cart garage and the first building in a self-storage property.

Read this blog and know the good life.

It'll make you do your homework.

Summer Romance - Part Two: July

2009-08-15T19:39:00.000-07:00

PART TWO: JULY

One

“Wow, Sam, your boobs got really big!”

Samantha laughed and glanced down at her cleavage. “Ohhh yeah.” She looked at all of her other friends – Kelly, Melissa, and Andrea – and they looked at her breasts. “What, are you guys men now?”

They laughed hard. “Well, y’know it’s gonna happen to all of us,” Melissa said then.

“Not if we don’t get pregnant,” Andrea responded.

“I thought you wanted kids?”

Andrea shrugged. “Well, yeah, sure, but that doesn’t mean I want to get pregnant. I could just adopt.”

“I suppose that’s an option,” Kelly said and pressed her hands on Samantha’s belly. “It feels so strange.”

Samantha nodded and patted it herself. “Tell me about it.”

The girls were all in bikinis, ready for an afternoon dip in the ocean. They were simply waiting for the boys to come back with beach snacks and suntan lotion. Samantha had surprised herself by wearing a two-piece at this point in her pregnancy, but she figured ‘what the hell, right?’ Who was she trying to impress? She was married and Alex was all for it.

“Whoa! Someone’s got some pretty powerful legs!” Kelly suddenly gasped.

“I think that’s his arms, actually,” Samantha replied, hands pressing on her belly, trying to get a feel as to where the baby was.

“Wow, crazy.”

“No kidding.”

“So are you ready for this? This whole Mom thing?” Melissa questioned.

“Oh hell no!” Samantha answered with a laugh. “No way. But . . . but . . . I think I’m going to be when it comes screaming and pooping into my life.”

“What about Alex? How’s he doing with all this?”

“You’re kidding, right? Alex is all kinds of geared up. We went Target the other day and he dragged me into the sports equipment section and was going on and on about what he wants to buy when the little guy gets old enough to hold a ball.”

“It’s so weird to think of Alex as a Dad,” Andrea stated. “But that’s cool.”

“Yeah. It is.”

And it really was.

The front door suddenly opened and all the girls got their feet. Samantha was struck with how much she missed them; even though Andrea went to Luthor College across the state. Considering how bored she had become since she and Alex moved down here, they made for the perfect distraction and a fantastic new source of interest for her. She had missed these women, these friends.

Two

The last time they were all gathered together was at Alex and Samantha’s wedding.

It was a small wedding and while not really what Samantha had dreamed of having, it was still quite lovely and it warmed her heart every time she thought back to it. Nestled in a bed and breakfast resort in the Blue Ridge Mountains, she was married to Alexander and took his name. On Valentine’s Day.

The wedding played out in a lodge. Half of the resort had been rented out for this event. The room was a decent size, though with everyone in it, it became rather cozy and warm. Huge windows gave the wedding goers a beautiful view of the valley below and the mountains that curved around it. Snowflakes poured constantly from the heavens, coating the mountains and bare trees in thick white layers. A fire chirped and crackled next to the windows and that’s where Alex and his Best Man, Jimmy stood. A Pastor was there, also, a round, bald man who smiled genuinely at them and gave no sense of judgment. His kindness gave Samantha a leap of faith.

The room was filled with about thirty-odd people in all. A few friends, but mostly just family. Uncles, aunts, cousins, and a grandparent.

Donald was given one task and one task alone – to enter the room and turn on the CD player. He did so and when he did and music began to pour out, the precession began. Dusty, Melissa; Staci, Roger; Rachel, David. Todd, Kelly, and Andrea were all in the audience.

Everyone watched, then, as Samantha came down the aisle. Her belly was starting to show, but it wasn’t quite prominent yet. An empire waist dress hung gently down across her middle, hiding the belly (for the most part). Her fourteen year old brother Jack was giving her away; she hadn’t seen her father since she was twelve and hadn’t heard from him since she was eighteen.

The ceremony was simple and straight-forward. She vowed herself to him and he vowed himself to her. It was brief, it was quiet. It was unplanned, it was put together fast, and it wasn’t what she dreamed of as a little girl growing up . . . but it was a wedding and she really did love Alex.

She really did.

Their first dance was to Bryan Adam’s “Everything I Do.”

Dinner came afterwards in the next room. The evening sunlight came into the room briefly; the sky outside was gray and thick above the snowy mountains. The food was decent, but nothing to write home about. She watched as wine was poured into everyone’s glasses but her own. It wasn’t exactly fair – she had turned 21 and was finally allowed to legally drink . . . only to be stuck being without it for nine months.

The gift from Alex’s father was a check for $20,000. He also told them: “Spend the summer at the beach house. It’ll be one big fling for you before parenthood. I’ll make all the arrangements.” He did so and they raced on down once the semester ended. Samantha switched doctors and Alex got a job at his father’s chain. The baby would be born here and they would then move back up to Maxwell – in an apartment of their own. It was all so nice and neatly planned.

Three

Just like at her wedding, Samantha watched as alcohol was poured all around. She watched jealousy as her girlfriends and the boys stood out on the porch, getting hammered. The sun above dipping into the horizon and music pounded from an expensive stereo. The porch door was open, allowing cold air to escape and mosquitoes to enter. Samantha shut the door, stopping both. She turned her back to the party she was hosting but wasn’t a part of.

Maybe that’s okay. Maybe it’s time to put this behind you . . . even though you didn’t get a chance to really get into it.

Samantha’s back ached and she walked over to the couch. The day at the beach had been a ton of fun, but exhausting all the same. She plopped down and took in a deep breath, regarding the thought that perhaps she spent her last summer being a party girl was last year.

As if on cue, Kelly and Andrea came stumbling in. “Hey girl! What are you doing in here? Party’s outside!” Andrea exclaimed.

“It’s hot.”

“It’s summer! Wooo!” Kelly lifted a margarita to her lips and downed it.

“Well done,” Samantha stated and smoothed out her shirt against her stomach. “The baby likes the music. He moves a lot when the bass gets loud. Oh! Like that!”

“Awesome,” Kelly replied. “Rock that uterus out!”

Andrea put her hand on Samantha’s womb. “Oh yeah, wow. He must think he’s at a sweet-ass rave party or something.”

Samantha laughed. “I guess so.”

Kelly made herself busy in the kitchen as Andrea took a seat next to Samantha. “Still going back to school?”

“Yeah, definitely. A semester off, then we’re going to figure out a schedule that’ll let us both go to school.”

“Will you be working?”

“I’m not sure. If I do, it might not be much. Alex is going to be full-time or something back up at the ‘Fish, Bird, and Fresh Market’ near Maxwell. I really want to concentrate on college and the baby.”

She didn’t tell Andrea this, but there were times – irrational times – that she was angry at the boy in her belly for messing up her college plans; for delaying her and making things already harder. She would deny this irrationality for as long as she could, though, and it would (in time) fade away.

“Here ya go! Virgin margarita even though you’re not!” Kelly laughed, placing a glass on the coffee table.

“Really?! I had no idea!” Samantha responded, laughing and taking the drink.

Kelly started laughing uncontrollably, nearly spilling her drink. Samantha looked to Andrea, who shook her head in amusement.

“You’re pretty drunk, ain’t ya?” Andrea questioned.

“Drunk and pretty, yep!”

“HAMBURGERS AND HOT DOGS ARE DONE!” shouted Alex suddenly barging in with a plate baring such grilled meat.

“I’ve got buns!” Kelly yelled back and smacked her own ass. Todd walked over to her and put his arm around her shoulders.

“Okay, babe, let’s get ya some food . . . and maybe some water . . .”

“Wooo!”’

Four

Samantha cried Monday night, when her friends jetted back home. She wasn’t exactly sure why, nor why she hid it from Alex. She sat in the kitchen and cried for a while, then went upstairs to the loft. Alex was sitting on the couch, watching some mindless summer replacement show. It was reality TV.

“You all right?” he asked, looking up at her.

“I’m fine.”

“No you’re not.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I am worrying about it.”

“I . . . I’m just hormonal, I guess. I had such a good time with the girls and everyone and I really missed them.”

He patted the couch and she sat down next to him. “We’ll see them again soon,” he said to her with ease. It did nothing for her and he may have known this on some level. Known it and ignored for whatever reason guys ignore things like that.

“I miss my old life.”

This jarred Alex and he turned to her sharply, but not with anger. “What?”

She hugged her belly. “I’m . . . I don’t feel ready for this. Any of this. Do you? Are you ready to give up what we had yesterday? I . . . we’re so young, Alex. We’re not normal. Andrea, Kelly, Todd . . . all of them. They’re normal. They know what they’re doing, right?”

“We know what we’re doing, Sam.”

“Do we? We have everything so nicely planned out, but what if it goes to hell in a hand basket? What if we fuck it up somehow?”

He reached out and took her hand. “We’ll fix it.”

“What if something is wrong with the baby?”

Alex’s face turned inward with thought and feeling, as if the words that he needed to say were buried just so very deep in his brain. “I . . . I don’t know.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of!” she said loudly. “I don’t know if we can handle that. I don’t know if we can handle a kid that’s retarded or sick or . . .”

“We’re young, but we’re not kids,” Alex answered. “We can figure something out if things get messed up.”

“It’s not just you and me anymore, Alex,” she said, cuddling up to him, putting her head on his chest and hugging on his middle. He kissed her head.

“It hasn’t been for a while,” he replied.

Summer Romance - Part One: June

2009-08-15T17:11:00.000-07:00

SUMMER ROMANCE

By Kevin Woodside

Author's Note:
I wrote this story last spring. Some random Sunday morning, I was at work and the words just kinda dripped into my brain. On my lunch, I got on laptop and just started writing. Those that read this bare in mind that this story isn't meant to disection. Don't look at it and think "what was Kevin thinking when he wrote this?" Furthermore, the story is my own. Do not post it elsewhere without my permission.

PART ONE: JUNE

One

Samantha stood alone on the beach, the cool ocean water reaching past her feet and up to her ankles. She stared at the hypnotic rolling and breaking of the water as it crashed upon the beach. It ran over her toes and their pink chipped toe-nail polish. The sand beneath her feet became soaking wet.

The sky was a hazy non-color shade of gray. The sun itself was a vague glowing shape somewhere behind the haze. Her tan shorts were open at the fly, allowing her pregnant belly to hang out nakedly into the open air. Her blouse was opened at below her chest, further exposing it. Her left hand held her flip-flops and in the right was a hair tie.

Her sandy blonde hair suddenly blew around her face as a strong sea breeze swept over the beach. It broke her stare and took her from her brewing thoughts. Samantha looked around. To her right and down a bit, three kids were playing kites. It was a good day for it; the wind was strong.

An elderly couple were coming her direction wearing wind-breakers. A little dog yapped and looked to be hauling them forward on a taunt leash. From the direction of the kids playing with their kites came four young teenagers that managed to look Emo even in just swimming trunks.
‘We only swim when it’s cloudy out,’ she mocked them in her mind. She felt a sudden automatic hatred towards them. Who did they think they were? This was an island full of rich people. And while her situation wasn’t exactly full of financial hardship, it was certainly a lot worse than what these kids were trying to project. Samantha sighed and tried to calm her moment of hate – she didn’t know them, maybe they were abused, etc.

She wasn’t sure why she was out here on her own. Samantha had been to the ocean since she and Alex came down here two weeks ago, but this was the first time she came alone. Since they moved (or fled, as she liked to think of it) from Maxwell University to here, Samantha felt as if she was in a daze. Emotional. Physical. Maybe even spiritual, if she really did believe in that (it depended on the day, really).

She hoped that just getting out of the house and going somewhere other than just the mall and the grocery store would help break her out of the funk. She wasn’t sure if this was doing it or not, but she felt better just going . . . someplace natural.

Samantha also wasn’t sure why she let her belly be exposed. She supposed that if she was going to be at the beach, she might as well show off the body she had no problem with a year ago (hell, six-seven months ago). It was still her body, just with a baby inside of it.

Samantha looked around again. There was a flock of seagulls overhead, crying out, wishing that more visitors would come to the beach and drop some food for them. Her eyes followed them. The kids were still playing with their kites; and the elderly couple were walking on and on, their dog yapping at everything that moved even the slightest centimeter. The Emo kids were vanishing on the horizon.

Then there’s just me, Samantha sighed internally

Not anywhere near where she thought she would be a year ago.

Samantha shoved that thought away, but really only managed to move it to the outer orbit of her mind. It would linger there for a good while.

She turned away from the ocean and tossed her flip-flops onto the cold but dry sand. She slid them on and headed back to the boardwalk. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail and walked up the stairs to the boardwalk. There was a cute little beach shop right in front her. She and Alex had been in it at least three times since they got down here.

Like those other times, there was a woman in her mid-to-late 50s with a face that was starting to really wrinkle and dark gray hair pulled into a thick, awkward looking bun behind the counter. The woman smiled as the bell above the doors chimed and Samantha entered.

“Hi!” the woman greeted.

“Hello,” Samantha responded meekly.

She wasn’t quite sure what she was doing there, but she had found the store charming during the previous visits. The tables and shelves were filled with knickknacks and memorabilia. T-shirts hung from racks, advertising in so many different ways, Parma Beach, South Carolina. There were a few squirt guns, kites, towels . . . you name it.

Samantha saw a necklace made out of seashells and smiled. It was cute. She wondered what Alex would think of it – ‘Hey, my little beach babe.’

“I’ll just take this,” she said, walking up to the register.

“That all?”

“Yeah.”

The woman nodded and smiled sweetly. “How much further you got, honey?”

“About three months.”

“Trying to get in one last vacation before the baby comes, huh?”

“Guess so, yeah.”

“Well, you enjoy yourself.”

“I will. Thank you.”

Samantha took her receipt and left.

Two

The child was that was curled up in Samantha’s uterus was not planned at all. She refused to call the event that brought sperm and egg together an accident and it was certainly not a mistake. It was, simply, not planned.

The events that brought about the pregnancy were complicated. Her Mom had lost her job and thus, lost insurance, meaning Samantha couldn’t afford her birth control pills. During the time that her Mom lost her job and before she could get her new one, Samantha and Alex had sex. Samantha knew better, but the power of desire and the intoxication of a bottle of wine prevented them from reaching under Alex’s bed for the condoms.

The act was beautiful.

Unplanned.

But beautiful.

She found out she was pregnant right before Christmas. Samantha told Alex before they left for Winter Break. He didn’t know what to do. But he didn’t say abortion. He only said adoption once and that was barely in context. Samantha, scared that he would leave her, abandon her, shove her away, fell in love with Alex all over again.

They parted for the break. He went to North Carolina to tell his parents. She went to Brookings, Oregon to tell her Mom. He never gave the details, but she knew that telling his parents was hard for Alex. He was the oldest. It helped that he and Samantha had been going out for a year and a half, but it didn’t exactly ease their troubles.

Her own mother was hurt by it and blew up at her. The night her Mom found out about the pregnancy, Samantha took refuge at her sister’s place. Rachel was supportive and understanding, instilled with that sisterly wisdom of experience. Rachel herself was married and had two children of her own; she was married to a quiet guy named Donald. When Donald found out that Samantha was pregnant, it was really one of the few times that he had something worthwhile to say.

“Having children is hard work, but it’s worth it. Every second of it. It’s worth it. I think you’re brave for wanting to take this on, Sam. Braver than a lot of girls in your situation.”

Rachel then made a joke at her husband’s expense, but Samantha ignored it. She simply focused on what Donald had said and would continue to keep that in her head for months to come.
The next morning, after sleeping on the couch and spending some time hovering over the toilet puking (with Rachel being sweet enough to hold back her hair), their Mom showed up crying. She swept Samantha into her arms, kissing her cheeks. She apologized for yelling, but reiterated her disappointment. But she told Samantha “what’s done is done and I’ll support you in every way that I can.”

Samantha returned to her mother’s house. That night, the youngest of the three children, Jack, found out. He was only fourteen. He and Samantha talked long into the night about sex. He knew the basics and had heard all sorts of lessons about absetince. But Samantha told him how important it was that, if he were to become sexually active, to use a condom. And to not just ‘bang every girl you can find; make sure it’s someone special and important.’

That next day, Samantha heard from Alex. His parents were really quite angry, but two nights worth of sleep had calmed them and had them thinking rationally. Alex’s father was a high-up with a huge grocery company and was pulling strings almost immediately.

On New Year’s Eve, Alex flew to Brookings. He had never met Samantha’s family, but they embraced him with open arms. The whole family – her Mom, Rachel, her kids, Donald, Jason, Samantha, and Alex – had a New Year’s party that evening. At midnight, when Samantha turned to kiss her boyfriend, she found him down on one knee, holding out a box with a diamond ring inside.

“I love you.”

“I . . .”

“Will you marry me?”

“I’m . . .”

“It’s not just -- ”

“Yes!”

She cried and hugged him and kissed him hard.

Three

Samantha walked down the road from the boardwalk. They weren’t staying very far; down the street and around the corner. She hadn’t really noticed, but her walk was progressive becoming a waddle. By the time she got to the beach house, she was exhausted, her ankles swelling a little, and back aching a bit. Her new seashell necklace jangled around her neck.

The beach house was almost embarrassingly large. Three bedrooms – the master bedroom on the first floor, two more on opposites of the second story loft.

She got in the shower. Samantha put the same shorts on, but changed shirts to something that covered her growing middle. Hair up in a towel, she made her way around the beach house, trying to find something to do, something to keep her busy. She was too young to just sit around and eat bon-bons.

Samantha started gathering up the massive piles of laundry that was growing in the bedroom. She hefted the basket against her hip and made her way to the laundry room. As she proceeded to load up the washer, she realized exactly what she was.

Sammy, sweetie, you’re a housewife.

It struck her fast and she fought a bizarre need to start crying. She told herself that it was just the hormones, that after they had the baby and it was old enough for daycare, she would go back to school. Get that dream job. She could still do that.

Oh, she begged herself not to cry. Not to be like this.

Samantha leaned against the washer and started weeping uncontrollably.

“Fuck it,” she said and tossed the basket to the ground. “Fuck it!”

She spent ten minutes in the laundry room crying alone.

Four

Alex came home around 5:20. The drive from work took that long; that’s the way things were outside of Charleston – spread out and far off. He arrived home, his tie a thing that hung loosely from his neck. In his hands were two plastic bags that with some groceries. Since they came down here, their trips to the grocery store had been almost endless. It didn’t help that Alex worked there now.

“Sam?”

Alex came into the living room, finding his wife on the couch, facing at the TV. There were a few crumbled tissues lying next to her. Her eyes were closed and her body was sprawled out.

“Sammy?”

Her eyes opened slowly. “Huh? Oh . . .” She eased herself up. “I must have fallen asleep.”

He smirked a little. “I guess so. That’s okay.”

Samantha got up and followed Alex into the kitchen, stretching and yawning, her shirt riding up her belly a bit as she did. “I can start dinner in a few minutes. What do you want?” She opened the refrigerator.

“Oh I got it, Sam. It’s okay.”

She turned to him, surprised. “What? Really?”

“Yeah. Spaghetti and meatballs!” He said this with a toss of a box of spaghetti into the air. He meant to catch it, but missed horribly. “Whoops.”

Samantha giggled. “Do you want some help?” she asked after he recovered the box.

“Nope, I got it covered. You just go back out there and relax, okay?”

“You know not to use the whole box, right?”

“Uh . . . yes.”

“You do now, huh?”

“Heheh, yeah.”

She sat down at the dinner table and picked through some mail. There were a few ads that she glanced through.

“It’s unbearably humid out there,” Alex said, bringing the water to a rolling boil. “I was so glad I was inside. I thought Greensboro could get bad . . .”

“I went out to the ocean today.”

“Oh yeah? Did you go swimming?” The water was spilling over the top of the pot, but he got it under control quickly.

“No. Just went and looked at the water. Wanted to get out.”

He nodded and added the noodles. “Ah.”

“Oh! I got this too.”

Alex looked over and saw her holding up the necklace. “That’s cute!”

“Isn’t it?”

The dinner was done after a few more minutes. Alex and Samantha were soon sitting across from each at the dinner, eating. It was a little watery, but it was still good.

“So, I was thinking about having some of the guys down here for the fourth.”

“Who?”

“Todd, Dusty, Jimmy, maybe David, maybe Lorrel. Definitely Roger.”

“That’s fine, but only if I can have some of my friends come down too.”

“Like?”

“Melissa, Staci, Andrea . . . and Kelly.”

“Kelly’s going out with Todd.”

“Oh yeah. I forgot.”

Alex nodded with an amused smile. “That’s okay. I thought I read somewhere that pregnant women tend to get a little forgetful.”

“Watch it now, mister,” she warned. “We also get angry faster.”

“And horny too, right?”

“Well, aren’t you Mr. Educated?”

“Haha, I just call ‘em as I see ‘em.”

Samantha smiled.

Five

Outside, it was starting to rain. Underneath a thin sheet, Samantha’s naked body was laying next to Alex’s. The love-making had been passionate and fulfilling, if not a little fast. Alex was exhausted, but Samantha seemed to be woken up by the act; she was feeling restless and uncomfortable just lying there.

“Alex? Honey?”

“Hm, yeah?”

“I was wondering - ”

“Hrm?”

“I was wondering, do you think . . . do you think that maybe I should get a job?”

“A job?”

“Yeah, like . . . I don’t know, I mean, I know your Dad gave us that $20,000 and you’re working and everything, but . . . babies are expensive and we’re going to need all that we can get.”

“Honey, we’re fine. Just fine.”

“It’s not just that. I get so bored around here. None of my friends are here and, my family is literally on the other side of the country. Maybe I should just get a little job. Just something to occupy myself with.”

“Hrmm. We’ll talk about this in the morning.”

That was the last he had to say about it. Alex went quiet after that and Samantha dropped the subject. She laid back, awake and mind racing, running, screaming. Alex really started to doze off, but Samantha couldn’t sleep. She stood up, the sheet slipping off her body. She pulled on a pair of boxers that she had stolen months ago from Alex and a tank top.

Downstairs, she made herself some herbal tea and then stood at loft window, watching as the rain came down in sheets and a thunderstorm rolled on in.

Star Trek: Destiny

2009-02-25T12:08:00.000-08:00

Hard as it is to believe, it's a helluva good time to be a Trekkie. I mean, sure, there hasn't been an episode of Star Trek on TV since 2005 and Star Trek: Nemesis is regarded by everyone to be the worst Star Trek movie ever -- but there's hope for the future.

As Paramount turns it's focus back onto the original series with the up-coming Star Trek movie (which, in my mind, will make or break the future of the franchise), the fate of the Trek spin-offs rests in the hands of the so-called "TrekLit" department. This group of writers and editors have taken the Star Trek universe and given it a new direction.

The post-finale "relaunches" of Deep Space Nine, Voyager, and Enterprise continue the adventures of the crews and vessels of said series. The Next Generation line of books have developed stories that work around the movies and have relaunched themselves, post-Nemesis.

Toss in new book-only series like New Frontier, Vanguard, Starfleet Corps of Engineers, and others, and we now have a vast universe that gives the writers a lot of freedom. Not all of them are successful and some of them miss their marks, but for the effort is there and there's always a chance of another writer coming in and cleaning up someone else's mess.

Which brings us to the whole point of this blog post -- a review of the Star Trek: Destiny trilogy, a series that takes the status quo of the 24th centrury and turns it on its head. The books, written by David Mack, were released late last year and are among the most exciting Star Trek books I've read.

The trilogy revolves around two main plotlines. One is the Alpha Quadrant's war with the Borg. The Borg, deciding to no longer try and assimilate the Federation, have decided to simply wipe them out completely. The other revolves around the mysterious presence of the long-lost USS Columbia NX-02 in the Gamma Quadrant -- a mystery that connects to a highly advance species called the Caeliar.

These two plots bring together the Enterprise-E, the Titan (Riker's new ship), and the Aventine, with its new captain, Ezri Dax. As the plots begin to intertwine, we are not only given the full origin of the Borg, but also its final fate. In the end, virtually the entire galaxy is transformed as a result, setting the stage for new Trek books that will further reveal the new status quo.

What I really like about these books is that it does in fact bring about change in the Star Trek universe. In addition, we're given some significant character development of the parts of Picard, Riker, Troi, Worf, Dax, Hernandaz, and a boat-load of other characters. In fact, even though the cast is three basically three starships full, there is plenty of character moments to go around.

We see scores of characters -- Martok, Admiral Paris, Chakotay, Seven of Nine, Tom Paris, and Garek. In addition to this, TrekLit-created characters appear. Federation President Bacco plays a large role. The Excalibur from New Frontier and the daVinci from SCE are name-dropped. Many political powers all play roles in the series, including the Tholians, Gorn, Breen, Ferengi, Romulans, and Cardassians.

That being said, I wish there had been a bit more. Voyager's role is minor, just a chapter or two spent with Chakotay, Seven, and Paris. The end result with the Borg -- while it worked out great -- really could have been seen as being more wide-spread. It doesn't address the Unimatrix Zero Borgs, Hugh, or the Borg Cooperative, all three of which would have helped increase the impact of what had occured.

We also don't even get a glimpse of the Romulans as they battle Borg.

That's not to mention the large amount of "WTF" moments for new readers. While I would recommend this book as something to help non-reading Trekkies get into TrekLit, there are certain elements that are tough to wrap one's head around. Janeway's dead? Picard and Crusher are married and having a baby? Torres left Paris? Dax is a Captain? I can see it being confusing to new readers. Heck, I've read some of the TrekLit books and even I was confused!

There are flaws with the writing too. I'm fairly certain that President Bacco repeats some of her dailogue throughout (side-note: I keep thinking her as some sort of strange combination of the West Wing's President Bartlet and Captain Amelia from Treasure Planet. I don't even know why). Picard's Borg-angst is way too heavy-handed.

But that being said, David Mack is among the best TrekLit writers and so much of this series is well-developed and interesting. Not only does it retain Star Trek's central theme of seeking out new life and new civilizations (in meeting and dealing with the Caeliar), but it also handles the Borg incredibly well. In fact, I dare say that the revelations made in regards to the Borg are a stroke of genius.

If you're a Star Trek fan, craving some 24th centrury lovin', this is where you need to go. If you want more, follow the bread crumbs into the series that crossover here. This series really does boldy go where no one has before.

Books in '09

2009-01-05T08:57:00.001-08:00

Reading checklist for 2009 (thus far):

The Book of Lies (ABANDONED -- IS A STUPID BOOK)
The Chronicles of Narnia
Star Trek: A Singular Destiny (at which point I'll post my review for "Destiny" -- not that anyone cares that much)
Great Expectations
Oliver Twist
. . . and, at some point, the Marvel Chronicle and comics to up-date my Uncanny X-Periment with.

There are a crap load of Star Trek books coming out too and considering the Trek-love I've been having, I'll probably take those on too.

I love words.

OMGCUTE

2009-01-05T08:55:00.000-08:00

From the BBC: "Child eloper's Africa plan foiled"

I (still) hate MSN

2008-12-16T19:22:00.000-08:00

Is this really an article?

http://movies.msn.com/movies/galleryfeature/comic-book-movies/

I mean, is it? Basically, it says "Hey, there are comic book movies. Some of them have been good. Some of them have been bad. The good ones are so good, they might be hard to top."

And I can't get a job as a writer while these yokels vomit these words onto the screen?

Star Trek primer

2008-12-16T13:43:00.000-08:00

With the new Star Trek movie coming out in May and the hype machine going at a full Warp 9.5, I figured it was time to write this up. I’m targeting this for really any sort of causal viewer who is looking for some more info about Star Trek, though I believe my wife and a few friends will benefit from it just as well.

The concentration will be on the original series, though I’ll be touching on the spin-offs and movies.

So, without further ado . . .

STAR TREK
(The Original Series [TOS]; 1966-1969)
Taking place in the mid-23rd century, the original Star Trek chronicled the adventures of Captain Kirk as he led the USS Enterprise NCC-1701through the galaxy on a five year mission, seeking out new life and new civilizations. Along the way, Kirk and his crew were confronted with amazing discoveries as well as an abundance of conflicts - both personal and professional.

Crew:
Captain James “Jim” T. Kirk (William Shatner)
Sucessor to Captain Pike, Kirk took a very hands-on and professional way of commanding the Enterprise. While willing to jump head-first into danger and to stare his enemy straight in the eye to get them to back-down, Kirk was also just as willing to resolve a conflict with diplomacy.

Lieutenant-Commander Spock, Science Office (Leonard Nimoy)
Half-human, half-Vulcan science officer. Loyal to a tee to both Starfleet and Captain Kirk, Spock presents the logical side to every argument – even in the face of his own inner turmoil. This conflict between his cold logic half and his passionate human side has led to tension between him and his father, Ambassador Sarek. Spock also enjoys a strong friendship with Captain Kirk and a rivalry with Dr. McCoy.

Doctor Leonard “Bones” McCoy (DeForest Kelly)
An old southern doctor that believes in both medicine and the body’s ability to heal itself, McCoy is one of Kirk’s best friends and serves as counter to Spock’s logic. A passionate and emotional human, McCoy is a advocate for saving lives.

Chief Engineer Montgomery “Scotty” Scott (James Doohan)
Scotty, a Scottish Engineer, is referred to as a miracle worker by the crew the Enterprise. Incredibly hard-working and dedicated, Scotty has helped save the Enterprise countless times.

Lieutenant Uhura (Nichelle Nichols)
Communications officer and very social and warm to the rest of the crew.

Lietutenant Hikaru Sulu (George Takei)
Navigation officer; fun-loving and athletic.

Ensign Pavel Chekov (Walter Koenig)
Navigation/Tactical officer; wet behind the ears, but ethusiastic. Promoted to bridge crew during second season.

Secondary characters:
Nurse Christine Chapel (Majel Barret-Roddenberry)
Yeomen Jancie Rand (Grace Lee Whtiney)

Notable/Recurring villains:
Khan
(“Space Seed”, Star Trek II: The Wrath of Kahn)

Harry Mudd
(“Mudd’s Women,” “I, Mudd,” “Mudd’s Passion” [TAS])

Kang
(“Day of the Dove,” “Blood Oath” [Deep Space Nine], “Flashback” [Voyager])

Kor
(“Errand of Mercy,” “The Time Trap” [TAS], “Blood Oath,” ‘The Sword of Kahless,” “Once More Unto the Breach” [all three Deep Space Nine])

Koloth
(“The Trouble with Tribbles,” “More Tribbles, More Troubles” [TAS], “Blood Oath” [Deep Space Nine])

Trelane
(“The Squire of Gothos”)

Episodes:
Full episode listings can be found on StarTrek.com, but here’s what I recommend for the fickle viewer. Others may add or subtract to this list. It’s also worth noting that I’m more in favor of the “Remastered” episodes as opposed to the original cuts, mainly for the special effects and better quality picture. That being said, the original versions have a little more to them, as “Remastered” cut out a few small scenes here and there.

Unaired Pilot: The Cage
Aired Pilot/First Episode: Where No Man Has Gone Before

Season One (recommended):
The Corbonite Manuever
Mudd’s Women
The Man Trap
The Naked Time
Charlie X
Balance of Terror
Dagger of the Mind
The Conscience of the King
The Galileo Seven
The Menagerie, Parts One and Two
Shore Leave
The Squire of Gothos
The Arena
Tomorrow is Yesterday
Space Seed
This Side of Paradise
The Devil in the Dark
Errand of Mercy
The City on the Edge of Forever

Season Two (recommended):
Metamorphosis
Who Mourns for Adorias?
Amok Time
The Doomsday Machine
The Changeling
Mirror, Mirror
The Deadly Years
I, Mudd
The Trouble with Tribbles
Journey to Babel
By Any Other Name
The Ultimate Computer
The Omega Glory

Season Three (recommended):
The Enterprise Incident
The Tholian Web
Day of the Dove
Plato’s Stepchildren
Let That Be Your Last Battlefield
The Cloud Miners
The Savage Curtain
All Our Yesterdays

Final Episode: Turnabout Intruder
It should be noted, however, that while this is the last of episode of the original series, most fans recognized Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country as the “true” finale.

STAR TREK: THE ANIMATED SERIES
([TAS] 1973-1974)
Star Trek: The Animated Series was launched in 1973 after syndicated reruns of the original series did impressively well in the ratings. Personally, I haven’t seen much of this show, so I can’t really recommend any of it. It was just recently added to the Star Trek canon.

STAR TREK MOVIES (PART ONE)
After the success of Star Wars and Close Encounters of the Third Kind, Paramount sought to revive Star Trek in movie form. The Original Series cast took the helm (as it were) for the first six movies, with the seventh film (“Generations”) serving as a coda of sorts and passing the torch to the “Next Generation” cast.

STAR TREK: THE MOTION PICTURE
(1979)
Two years and a massive refit later, the Enterprise is put back into service. Captain Kirk takes command again after promising it to Commander Dekker. With the old crew reunited, the Enterprise goes and faces with a massive energy cloud containing a mysterious living ship within.

STAR TREK II: THE WRATH OF KHAN
(1982)
During a routine training mission, Admiral Kirk and his crew are forced to confront a villain from the past – Khan. However, Khan now has a powerful weapon - Project: Genesis - at his disposal. And the ante for Kirk just grows higher as his son and ex-lover become entangled in the conflict.

STAR TREK III: THE SEARCH FOR SPOCK
(1984)
Reeling from the events of the previous film, the Enterprise crew are restrained from returning to the Genesis planet in the hopes of restoring their fallen comrade. Thus, Kirk and his senior staff steal the Enterprise – only to become involved with the Klingons, who seek the destructive nature of the Genesis planet.

STARK IV: THE VOYAGE HOME
(1986)
Returning from their exile on Vulcan with a stolen Klingon Bird-of-Prey, the crew of the Enterprise must travel back in time in an effort to answer the call of an alien probe that is accidentally destroying Earth’s atmosphere.

STAR TREK V: THE FINAL FRONTIER
(1989)
A Vulcan cult leader captures the newly-launched Enterprise-A and takes both it and the crew to the center of the universe in the hopes of finding God.

STARK VI: THE UNDISCOVERED COUNTRY
(1991)
The Klingon Empire, on the verge of complete and total collapse, seeks out a peaceful alliance with the Federation. The Enterprise is subsequently ordered to escort the Klingons to Earth for negotiations. However, when an assassination occurs, the crew is embroiled in a conspiracy to ensure that the Federation and Klingons remain enemies.

STAR TREK: THE NEXT GENERATION
([TNG]; 1987-1994)
75-80 years after the original series, Captain Jean-Luc Picard leads his crew aboard the USS Enterprise NCC-1701-D as they continue Starfleet’s exploration of the galaxy. Their travels aren’t always easy, though, as they encounter danger from the Romulans, the Klingons, the Ferengi, and make first contact with the Borg.

I won’t be going as in-depth here)

Crew:
Captain Jean-Luc Picard (Patrick Stewart)
Commander William T. Riker (Jonathan Franks)
Lieutenant-Commander Data (Brent Spiner)
Lieutenant-Commander/Chief Engineer Geordi LaForge (LeVar Burton)
Lieutenant Worf (Michael Dorn)
Doctor Beverly Crusher (Gates McFadden)
Counselor Deanna Troi (Marina Sirtis)

Additional crew/Recurring characters:
Lieutenant Tasha Yar (Denise Crosby) (Season One only)
Ensign Wesley Crusher (Wil Wheaton)
Guinan (Whoopi Goldberg)
Ensign Ro Laren (Michelle Forbes)
Chief Miles O’Brien (Colm Meany – left after season five)
Doctor Katherine Pulaski (Diana Muldaur)
Chacellor Gowron (Robert O’Riely)
Lieutenant Reginald Barclay (Dwight Schultz)
Kurn (Tony Todd)

Recurring villains:
Q (John DeLance)
Commander Sela (Denise Crosby)
Lursa (Barbara March)
B’Etor (Gwynyth Walsh)
Duras (Patrick Massett)
Lore (Brent Spiner)

STAR TREK: DEEP SPACE NINE
([DS9]; 1993-1999)
Deep Space Nine, formerly a station manned Cardassians during the destructive occupation of Bajor, has come into hands of Starfleet and the Bajoran government. While at first, the Federation seeks only to aide Bajor in reconstruction and recovery, a wormhole is discovered nearby. Not only does it pique the curiosity of Starfleet, but it also serves as a religious discovery for the Bajoran. And, on top of all this, it puts Deep Space Nine and Bajor at a political crossroads. The Klingons, the Romulans, the Cardassians, the Breen, and (from the Gamma Quadrant on the other side of the wormhole), the Dominion all become involved in massive political and religious battle that threatens to engulf most of the galaxy.

Crew:
Commander/Captain Benjamin Sisko (Avery Brooks)
Major/Colonel Kira Nerys (Nana Visitor)
Lieutenant-Commander Jadzia Dax (Terry Ferrel) (Seasons 1-6)
Lieutentant Ezri Dax (Nicole de Boer) (Season 7)
Chief Miles O’Brien (Colm Meany)
Doctor Julian Bashier (Alexander Sidding)
Lieutenant-Commander Worf (Michael Dorn) (Seasons 4-7)
“Constable” Odo (Rene Auberjonois)
Quark (Armin Shimmerman)
Jake Sisko (Cirroc Lofton)

Reoccuring Characters:
Garek (Andrew Robinson)
General Martok (J.G. Hertzler)
Rom (Max Grodenchik)
Morn (Mark Allen Sheppard)
Leeta (Chase Masterson)
Kieko O’Brien (Rosalind Chao)
Kirayoshi O’Brien
Molly O’Brien (Hana Hatae)
Kasidy Yates (Penny Johnson)
Michael Eddington (Kenneth Marshall)
Cadet/Ensign Nog (Aron Eisenberg)
Ishka (Cecily Adams)
Grand Nangus Zek (Wallace Shawn)
First Minister Bareil Antos (Phillip Anglim)
First Minster Shakaar Edon (Duncan Regehr)
Admiral Ross (Barry Jenner)
Tora Ziyal (Melanie Smith)

Recurring Villains:
Gul Dukat (Marc Alaimo)
Kai Winn Adami (Lousie Fletcher)
Female Changeling (Salome Jens)
Weyoun (Jeffery Combs)
Damar (Casey Biggs)
Brunt (Jeffery Combs)

STAR TREK: VOYAGER
([VOY]; 1995-2001)
While tracking a band of Federation rebels called the Maquis, the USS Voyager is thrown across the galaxy into the far reaches of the Delta Quadrant - 70 years from home at maximum warp. Together with the Maquis, Voyager must travel across the expanse of the Delta Quadrant and face down threats from scores of species - including the Borg, Kazon, Viddians, Voth, and more . . . while still up-holding Starfleet’s mission of peaceful exploration.

Crew:
Captain Kathryn Janeway (Kate Mulgrew)
Commander Chakotay (Robert Beltran)
Lieutenant-Commander Tuvok (Tim Russ)
Lieutenant B’Elanna Torres (Roxann Biggs-Dawson)
Lieutenant Tom Paris (Robert Duncan McNeill)
The Doctor (Robert Picardo)
Ensign Harry Kim (Garret Wang)
Neelix (Ethan Phillips)
Kes (Jennifer Lien) (Seasons 1-4)
Seven of Nine (Jeri Ryan) (Seasons 4-7)

Recurring Characters:
Captain Braxton (Allen G. Royal; Bruce McGill)
Icheb (Manu Intiraymi)
Admiral Owen Paris (Richard Herd)
Suder (Brad Dourif)
Naomi Wildman (Scarlett Powers)
Lieutenant Samantha Wildman (Nancy Hower)
Vorik (Alexander Enberg)

Key/Recurring Villains:
Seska (Martha Hawkett)
Culluh (Anthony DeLongis)
Q (John DeLancie)
Mrs. Q (Suzie Plakson)
Q Jr. (Keegan DeLancie)
Borg Queen (Susanna Thompson, Alice Krige)

STAR TREK: ENTERPRISE
([ENT] 2001-2005)
Set 150 years before Captain Kirk took command of the Enterprise, Star Trek: Enterprise follows Captain Jonathan Archer as he commands the USS Enterprise NX-01 – the first Warp 5 vessel to explore space. His historic journey pits him and his crew against not only the Klingons and Romulans, but other races as well – including the Suliban and the Xindi, two races tied to a Temporal Cold War. Archer also proves important in bringing together the founding worlds of the Federation.

Crew:
Captain Jonathan Archer (Scott Bakula)
Sub-Commander T’Pol (Jolene Blalock)
Commander Charles “Trip” Tucker, the Third (Connor Trinneer)
Lieutenant-Commander Malcolm Reed (Dominic Keating)
Lieutenant Hoshi Sato (Linda Park)
Ensign Travis Mayweather (Anthony Montgomery)
Doctor Phlox (John Billingsley)
Porthos (a dog)

Recurring Characters:
“Crewman” Daniels (Matt Winston)
Admiral Forrest (Vaughn Armstrong)
Major Hayes (Steven Culp)
Rivers (Seth MacFarlane – yep, Family Guy)
T’Pau (Kara Zediker)
Captain Erika Hernandez (Ada Maris)
Ambassador Soval (Gary Graham)
Commander Shran (Jeffery Combs)
Koss (Michael Reily Burke)
T’Les (Joanna Cassidy)

Recurring/Key Villains:
Vosk (Jack Gwaltney)
“Future Guy” (voiced by James Horan)
Silik (John Fleck)
Arik Soong (Brent Spiner)
General K’Vagh (James Avery)
Antaak (John Schuck)
Klaaang (Tommy “Tiny” Lisner Jr.)

STAR TREK MOVIES (PART TWO)
Beginning with Star Trek: Generations and following the end of their series, The Next Generation continued the motion picture portion of Star Trek’s franchise. While Deep Space Nine, Voyager, and Enterprise never made it to the big screen, they have had mentions and appearances throughout the four films. The USS Defiant appears in Star Trek: First Contact, and Worf (at the time, a recurring character on DS9) appears in all four movies; Admiral Janeway appears in Star Trek: Nemesis, as does mention of the USS Archer, a ship named after the captain of the NX-01.

STAR TREK: GENERATIONS
(1994)
The mad Doctor Soran seeks to re-enter the time ribbon called the Nexus, which allows those who enter to live out their greatest fantasies. Unfortunately, this means destroying millions of lives and wiping out entire star systems. Aided by the time-lost Admiral Kirk and dealing with his tragedies, Captain Jean-Luc Picard must put a stop to Soran’s terror.

STAR TREK: FIRST CONTACT
(1996)
The Borg have returned to conquer Earth! But even after stopping their invasion, the crew of the Enterprise-E must chase them back into the past, where the Borg seek to assimilate the Earth during the launch of Zephram Cochrane’s first warp ship and the eve of first contact with the Vulcans.

STAR TREK: INSURRECTION
(1998)
In the middle of an area called the Briar Patch, a rustic civilization called the Ba’ku holds the key to a veritable “fountain of youth.” However, corrupt forces within the Federation have teamed with a race called the Son’a, who has dark ties to the Ba’ku. Now, Captain Picard and his crew must defy orders to protect the Ba’ku.

STAR TREK: NEMESIS
(2002)
After Riker and Troi’s wedding, the Enterprise-E is drawn towards Romulan space by the detection of an android similar to Data. From there, they are invited to Romulus proper to meet with the new head of state - a clone of Picard named Shinzon. Shinzon has rallied the slave-populace of Remas in overthrowing the Romulan senate. Under the false pretense of peace, Shinzon not only seeks to kill Picard to save his own life, but to also destroy the Enterprise and eventually, Earth itself.

Which brings us to . . . STAR TREK (2009)

Not much is known about the plot, save that it involves a Romulan named Nero and 24th century Ambassador Spock, both traveling back in time to when Kirk and Spock first meet. It seeks to tell the origin story of the crew of the Enterprise. While it may contradict some information, writers have assured fans that the timeline will not be altered in any huge way.

Like I said, you can visit www.startrek.com for more information. Memory-Alpha is just as good. If I get inspired enough, I may write on of these about the Star Trek books, which are now focus on the Enterprise and Next Generation eras of Star Trek since the spotlight is turning to the original series again. They’re just as good as the shows. Trust me.

Star Trek series . . . off- course

2008-10-17T14:58:00.000-07:00

Sorry guys. Still trying to get things settled down. I'm still trying to get my Star Trek series together . . . even though it's a pain in the ass. I've been in a huge Trek mood lately, too. Trying to get my wife to like it. She enjoys the original series, but mostly because of it's high camp value. She did watch some DS9 with me (while, that is to say, she was sitting in the room with me doing other things while I watched it).

So . . . enjoy this awesome Star Trek space battle from my fave DS9 episode "Sacriface of Angels."

The Culmination

2008-08-07T21:12:00.001-07:00

What follows is the account of the past two days, in which my grandmother, a quadriplegic of 16 years, saw at long last, the end of her life. She was 86 years old and was cared for by my grandfather. Every day, he exercised her limbs, monitored her health, and tried his hardest to make sure she was still alive.

They've been through many hardships -- extending simply beyond the past 16 years. They were married just as my grandpa entered the military to serve in World War Two.

I heard a number of terms in the past 48 hours. "Lingering," "holding on," "finishing," but I think I like "Culimination" the best. It fits.

What I've written here was written in two seperate sittings: one earlier today at my grandparents and the other shortly after recieving the news of her departure. You'll note these with the tense changes.

----------------

1)
“Thanks for stopping by.”

“I might come back tomorrow, if that’s all right.”

“Of course it’s all right. We’ll always be here. Your Grandma may not be, but she’s alive tonight, God bless her. It’s a terrible struggle, but we’ll see her again.”

The conversation was held over the open dishwasher and in the bright light of the kitchen. My grandfather spoke with wisdom that only a grandfather can speak with; an alchemy of knowledge and experience that was both humbling and vast at the same time. His voice didn’t quiver once when he spoke and it was said in a way that the entire drive home, I kept rolling it around in my head.

My grandmother is dying. They claim she’s been dying since the day she fell and broke her neck 16 years ago. I’ll tell you she’s only been dying for a few months. But, to be honest, my father and uncle see her more than I do and part of me has to take what they say into account.

2)
Before slipping out into the living room on my second visit here in as many days, I just sat on the couch and stared at her face. The only word I can think of is ‘ghastly.’ I don’t even know why; maybe it’s just the expression she has. Her empty, slacked eyes; her jaw moving just slightly in a vain attempt to get more air into her liquid filled lungs. There was a sound like liquid coming from her that mouth and a smell came off her that was foul; it was worse yesterday, by far.

I had to get up and walk away. Just go into another room for a few minutes and regroup. Could I go back in there? Could I stand there and watch her die?

“It’s a hard thing to love your Mom and to want her to die,” my uncle Brian told me about an hour ago. Just before this, I heard him utter something that had become a Woodside mantra the past two months: “I just want this to end.”

When he told me this, my mind went to my Mom and being in the hospital when my Grandma Craver was losing her war with cancer. I wondered if she thought that – I don’t think she did, honestly. But it sparked something that Janine said to me this morning.

“To be honest, I’m not going. It’s going to be hard and it’s going to bring up all these memories about watching Grandma Craver dying.”

(Grandma Craver is sometimes regarded as a sort of patron saint in my family)

So here I am, alone with my aunt and uncle . . . my grandpa . . . and my grandma who is the star of the show.

3)
Yesterday, I was struggling with the fact that I could be at work packing some asshole’s groceries when my grandma died. So I left after 5 hours and went back to my place, where I worked up the courage to call my grandpa. He sounded a little surprised to hear from me, but welcomed me over with open arms.

When I walked through the door, I was a little taken aback by what I saw. My grandma was leaned forward with her face the way I described earlier – open jawed, eyes slacked.

Moments later, I was sitting in the living room with my grandpa and Uncle Brian, being grilled about my up-coming wedding. My aunt Pat arrived – thankfully – which spared me from more of the same. I talked to my Dad briefly, who seemed surprised and caught off-guard by my being here. We had to move some stuff, but I returned with him in tow – at which point, we sat and ate dinner just like any other time. In the family room, watching Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy.

Honestly, just any other visit. It made both my father and me uncomfortable, a fact that he shared with me. I liked that; he doesn’t open up much about that sorta thing and I’ve been trying to get him to lately.

We walked as my grandpa napped and then I went home.

4)
My grandpa and my uncle love to sound clever. They act like goofballs and I like to think I have a little bit of that charm and humor – but it’s unsharpened and dull.

5)
This morning, I awoke and was aware that the she wasn’t dead yet – simply by the fact that I hadn’t gotten a call yet. I sat downstairs this morning, planning my day. The phone rang and I strongly suspected it wasn’t good news; in fact, I was right about that.

But not exactly.

It was Tricia, in her half-panicked, half-crying tone. “My grandpa just had a heart attack!”

I couldn’t believe it. Part of me wanted to make a joke (I did later: “I think your grandpa read today’s script wrong; my grandma was supposed to have a heart attack!”) This added a new dimension to the day; a new struggle; a second concern. Part of me wondered just how the next few days would go. Surely our trip to Pittsburgh was out of the question.

I went to the hospital after dropping off an order for our wedding cake (heh, yeah) and then I went and saw Tricia and the family. I held her as she sobbed into my shoulder, then we had McDonald’s sweet tea and discussed the potentials the day.

After that, I went back to the house for a while and ended up going through some things before I made my way over here. I helped Brian cut down some dead branches.

6)
Yeah. And I’ve been out in the living room ever since, waiting for dinner, hearing my aunt and uncle try not to bicker. My aunt Pat, who has been so great during this whole thing, is seeming to lose some patience. My grandpa is kinda wandering the house and napping. And I’m sitting on the couch in the living room, writing my thoughts. My uncle, as much as I love him, is kinda nosey. I was questioned when I first came out here about what I was doing. As though I’m five and I might break something.

7)
I left not long after dinner and Jeopardy. I took a long way home, then got back and laid down on the couch, getting comfy in my distractions. Tricia’s grandpa’s pacemaker is fucked up and after some tests over the weekend, he should be out soon.

Thank God.

Kyle came home, interrupting my reading, and we chatted a bit about some things that weren’t about death. And then, as he was heading to bed, my phone rang, I saw it was my Dad and saw that it was 11:10 and knew what had happened. I paused, knowing what the call would be.

“Your grandma passed away about half an hour ago.”

Grandpa had been napping, Aunt Pat was in bed, and my Dad and Uncle Brian were sitting the family room when some unusual noises brought their attention to what was happening. And then . . .

8)
And then it was over.

As my Dad explained to me what had happened, I wasn’t full of sadness. I didn’t break down in tears, I wasn’t on the ground sobbing. I just felt . . . relief. Pure and simple relief tinged with a little happiness. Oh God, it’s over. It’s over, she’s free . . .

She’s free.

I have this striking visual in my head of her walking – just like she used to. Walking towards Bob Garthwaite and Granny and even Grandma Craver. It’s corny, it’s hokey, but it’s beautiful in my head.

She’s finally free.

In case you're wondering . . .

2008-07-16T15:29:00.000-07:00

Sorry for the lack of up-dates recently, folks. I've had a lot going in my "real life" preventing much of . . . well, anything. My writing these days is sparatic at best, between seeing Tricia and working. Any downtime I get is spent either attending to wedding business and/or just . . . being . . . lazy. Sorry to say.

I've been doing some reading lately, trying to wrap up some books that have been sitting around. One is my re-read of The Dark Tower, which should be finished in the next week or so. Another is a Star Trek novel. I've lost faith in the Trek novels over the past year or so, but I've kinda been talked into giving them another shot. We'll see.

Nothing else, really, has caught my eye lately. I finished All The Sad Young Literary Men, which was unenjoyable until the last 3-4 chapters. I've never seen so much freakin' angst over someone not being able to find a parking space. Seriously. The last 3-4 chapters are vast improvements over the rest of the book, but despite the up-lifting ending, it just wasn't worth the crap. And on top of it, the "happy ending" just seemed so against the grain of the book itself. It's just out of place.

Now that I've ranted about that, I'm sure you're wondering what I have been writing. I mean, I don't write nearly as much as I used to, but I've been working on one project or another since I was 13. There's never been a break, really.

My whole Todd and Kelly story has kinda . . . gone off course? I don't know. It's hard to explain. I love the characters. Absolutely love them. But the story itself is just kinda . . . blah. Blah blah. I don't know. We'll see, I guess.

I'm working on a story now that's a little surprising. It's based on some of my most beloved creations. In middle school and high school, I had this group of super-heroes called the Reality Corps. I had written them into a story called "The New Era." Throughut those tenative years, I re-wrote "The New Era" four times. However, since then, every attempt at re-writing "The New Era" has proven nigh-impossible. Recently, I had a bizzare fit of inspiration where I started writing the Reality Corps in a non-"New Era" story. I equate it with "All-Star Superman," actually. Light on continunity, heavy on mythology. We'll where this goes, though.

I had some other stories. Short stories, taking place in the "Todd and Kelly"-verse. I've kinda taken a break from those as they seemed too forced to me. I'm more than certain that I'll have more tales to tell from that corner of my creative room.

Finally, I have another project I'm working on, but I'm having a helluva time with it. More details when it's done.

In the meantime, I'll up-date this blog when I can. I'm more that certain you'll see more up-dates post-Honeymoon in October.

MSN and the Great Cliches of America

2008-06-03T10:04:00.000-07:00

I have a Hotmail account. I of course should have shut it down years ago because it's clunky, but it's just easier because I'm kinda lazy when it comes to that sort of stuff. I mean, I'd have to e-mail everyone with my new address and worry that some people would still e-mail to Hotmail . . . and yeah, you see where I'm going with this.

Anyways, after one signs into their account, we're given a page with various articles (usually Feature and very little actual News). A few weeks ago, I came across this article: "5 Dates No Guys Want To Go On." I then made the stupid mistake of indulging my curiosity and read it. And was horrified.

First off, there's no way a man wrote this article. It claims to be written by a guy named Mark Miller, but I'm betting "Mark" is just an abbreviation for "Marsha." Or something like that. If this was really written by a guy, then (and no personal offense intended) then he must be the Living Cliche. The men he writes about his article represent a league of men that only exist in bad sitcoms and in commericals in which men are played as the stupid married guy. He clearly does not know or understand the modern male.

Let's get the run-down of his list, shall we?

"Hiking
Hiking is an activity many men look forward to with the same relish they take in reading Aristotle in the original Greek, receiving a prostate exam, or attending a Celine Dion concert. The way we see it, nature is way overrated. How many flowers can you smell? How many sunsets can you ooh and ahh over? How many coyotes can you worry about being in the vicinity? Plus, there’s no access to the Internet or email. No TV sports. Bugs everywhere. What about any of this spells fun? Unless you look at fun as the first three letters of funeral.

You want your shot of nature? Invite us to the beach at sunset. Take a blanket and a six-pack, make out for half an hour, then head home so we can get back to civilization. That’s enough nature to hold us for the next three months."

Seriously? Guys don't like hiking? We don't like, say, exercise by taking in pleasant surroundings? And all men hate bugs? Since when? I love the assumptions here, too. We only want to drink beer, watch sports, get on-line, and make out. We surely can't appreciate the beauty of nature and the allure of fresh air.

The fact of that matter is that you'll probably find as many men out on the hiking trail as you'll find women. I'm betting you'll even find as many women that dislike hiking as you'll find men.

Apparently, Mr. Miller hates hiking and thus, has never done it. Certainly not with a woman because I'm fairly certain women don't talk to "flowers" the same way they talk to babies.

"Opera
If given the choice of how to spend a Friday or Saturday night, what guy wouldn’t vote for putting on some uncomfortable formal clothing after spending a couple of hundred dollars for tickets, then another hefty chunk for parking, all to hear overly-costumed and overly-made-up folks belting out tunes that don’t have a beat and don’t rhyme, in a language only U.N. translators can understand? Exactly. And yet we still get the evil look from girlfriends when we try to stay awake during Madame Butterfly by playing a video game on our cell phones.

If we must do something cultural and uplifting, at least make it ballet, where the women are in shape, wearing form-revealing clothing and moving their bodies in ways that cause us to imagine them with us in a variety of other non-dance situations. It ain’t Dancing With the Stars, but it sure beats counting down the seconds ’til it’s over when the fat lady sings."

This one, I might give him. Not a lot of guys like Opera, but I'm pretty sure that there's probably just as many women. And let's not put down Opera. It can be more beautiful and more meaningful than, say, most movies, nearly all Sports, and probably 99% of all video games.

"Travel
If my extensive online-dating experience has taught me nothing else, it’s that, at least according to their dating profiles, the one thing every woman most enjoys is travelling. Yes, they all want to get out of the country and see the world, explore other cultures, become enriched and broaden their horizons. These are all noble and worthy pursuits. Men, however, view travel slightly differently. We even spell it differently. We spell it this way: t$r$a$v$e$l. We also view it as time away from our jobs. This will virtually guarantee that not only will a huge stack of work be waiting for us upon our return (and that our bosses will find out the business runs just fine without our being there), but we’ll no doubt come down with some exotic disease and need to be treated in a culture where doctors are still playing catch-up with the wonders of Medieval medicine.

Got the travel bug, ladies? That’s why God created National Geographic. We’ll gladly treat you to a subscription."

Oh man, I love this one too! Do you see what it implies? Women don't know anything about money, working, how travel happens. It also tells us that the rest of the world is fairly stupid (Medieval medicine?). Further, men don't like to travel -- as we're also jerks.

"Clothes shopping
This is how men view clothes shopping: You get to follow your sweetie from store to store with the added bonus of holding her purse as she tries on one dress, blouse, or pair of shoes after another, while you struggle to convince her that each garment does not, in fact, make her butt look big. (Even the shoes!) Occasionally you meet the eyes of another girl’s boyfriend there against his will, and the look you give each other is as though you’re both begging, “PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, PUT ME OUT OF MY MISERY NOW!”

You want to try on clothes? Great, we’re OK with that. Just not in the mall. And we don’t care if you try to sweeten the offer with cappuccino and doing some clothes shopping for us. Instead, here’s what we would be interested in: We’ll light candles, put on some mood music, pour some wine, and you can give us a private fashion show. Oh, sure, it won’t be nearly the same without the neon lights, price tags, and judgmental stares from other women who think we’re perverts as we wait for you to emerge from the dressing room. But it’ll be close enough for us."

. . . I'm going to let him get away with this one because I (reluctantly) agree.

"Relationship workshops
Naturally, we men are going to want to avoid the mistakes we made in our past relationships, and we’re not averse to keeping our current romantic relationship as perfectly tuned up as our cars. But that doesn’t mean we welcome the prospect of attending the “Enhancing Couples’ Intimacy Workshop” or “The Two of You: Closer than Ever! Seminar” to which you’re so determined to drag us. It’s bad enough our intimacy needs enhancing; must we now attempt to jump-start it in a face-to-face with other romantic losers? We’d rather get up at 5 a.m. Sunday morning to join you on a bird-watching walk. We’d rather get in touch with our feelings and cry about what we never got to tell our fathers. We’d rather attend a taping of Ellen.

You want to enhance our intimacy? We’re all for it. Hold our hands, kiss us passionately, give us a massage, get naked with us—you’ll be stunned at the intensity of intimacy enhancement. In fact, let’s start right now. After all, we went hiking with you; it’s your turn to do something we enjoy. Hey, where are you going? Oh, come on, it’ll be fun!"

"Oh, honey, I know we're having some problems, but let's just have sex. Sex fixes everything! I don't care about your feelings, I'm an unemotional dude who is only guided by hormones! You want to get closer to me? Nah, just get closer to my penis."

What's worse is that there's a women's version of this. Being a guy, I originally felt I couldn't comment on all it. But there are certain parts I think I need to address.

"Theme parks
In life, there are roller-coaster people and there are those who get queasy looking at the merry-go-round. Find out which one your date is before you take her to the nearest Six Flags to ride the Mind-Eraser. We know you’re eager to be the manly man as we clench your arm in terror while spinning upside down in a quadruple loop. It’s just that some of us are not aching to toss our cookies in the bushes next to the churros stand while you watch. Sure, we might get to know you better while waiting in those long lines, but we’ll probably have other things on our minds if our stomachs are filled with knots and our hearts are racing in anxious anticipation—like avoiding the next date."

Since when do women hate theme parks? Last I checked, most of the women I know love them as much as the guys.

Are women most likely to toss their cookies than guys? Does the author of this article (Nicole Kristal) really believe that men are only in it so we can be manly-men?

"Chain restaurants
We love a guy who wants to feed us and perhaps even more so a man who wants to pay to feed us. But if you take us to a place we can find in every major city where the interior always looks the same, you might as well feed us lattes at Starbucks. Fast-food joints obviously rank as the worst dinner choices, but corporate restaurants (oh, don’t make me name names… you know the ones I mean!) also lack originality and thoughtfulness. As a general rule, don’t take us to a place where we know what we’re going to order before we walk in. We’d rather be taken somewhere off-the-beaten path—where there are candles instead of fluorescent lights, and we don’t have to listen to Top 40 songs blaring from a speaker overhead. If you have no idea where those places are, remember—God created the Zagat Guide for a reason."

Men hate cooking; women hate Wendy's, Fridays, Applebees, Starbucks, Taco Bell. This is fact and law. Not saying that a non-chain restaurant isn't a good idea, but to assume that guys don't know that it is an insult.

"Gross-out comedies
We know you think the whole dinner-and-a-movie idea is infallible, but not if the movie completely grosses us out. You might find it funny when Ben Stiller is standing near a pier and a fish hook gets stuck in his cheek or when Johnny Knoxville jumps into a vat of plastic balls filled with venomous snakes—we don’t. Men and women have different senses of humor. Various studies have proven this, so try to respect this biological fact and refrain from making us indulge your Three Stooges sensibility for two hours. Your buddies may laugh, but we’ll simply be rolling our eyes."

Really? I just randomly looked five different women I'm friends with on Facebook and guess what? They all have so-called "gross-out comedies" listed in the Favorite Movies. Take that!

MSN -- please fire these hacks. They obviously believe we're living in a society that is populated by somewhat stupid cliched men and women. There's a intense lack of understanding of the modern man and a severe school of thought that women are still living in the 1950s. They clearly have no idea how a relationship truly operates, where both partners get an equal say and are able to come to agreements as far as their plans for the evening.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going for a hike, then meeting up with my fiancee after she's done seeing a gross-out comedy.

Star Trek - Part One: Engage!

2008-05-17T14:45:00.001-07:00

Welcome to a new four (or five) part series of blog entries that will center around the one and only Star Trek. Part One (which is here and now) will feature the origin of my love affair of Star Trek and will also elaborate on why I love it as I do. Part Two (and possibly Three if it goes on too long) will focus on the franchise of Star Trek as a whole and will include an overview of the shows and movies. Part Three(ish) addresses the nature of Star Trek fans and my personal feelings towards the fandom. Part Four (or Five) is all about the future of Star Trek -- including the up-coming Star Trek film.

So, let me start off by clarifying something. We are not talking about Star Wars. People tend to think that I love Star Wars. The simple fact is that I don't. I like Star Wars; I enjoy Star Wars. But I don't love it. I'd take a Borg Cube over a Death Star; Quark's Bar over Mos Eisley. I'm not sure why people confuse them and assume that if one loves Trek, then they must love Wars. We're talking about a completely different universe here. I mean, just look at the androids!

I'll take the one that doesn't look like a slighty taller and less bird-like version of Crow T. Robot, please.

Anyways . . . so just how did my love affair of Star Trek begin? Well, okay, let's jump back to 1993. I was firmly into comics back then and had an obsession with X-Men already, so it wasn't like I wasn't a high-level nerd anyways. I remember going into Clicks (now Acme Fresh Market- my employer) and looking at the Star Trek: The Next Generation action-figures and trying to figure out which one was Spock. I then recall being quite ill over the summer and my Dad watching Star Trek XI: The Undiscovered Country while I laid on the couch feverish. I didn't quite get the parallels in that film to the end of the Cold War, but seeing all that action and stuff was enough to interest me. That whole summer, I spent trying to sort through just what in the hell Star Trek was all about. Were their two USS Enterprises? Why two different Captains? Why did the new look so different? What's the space station thing and what's that jelly guy?

It didn't make much sense at first, but by the time the summer came to a close, I had really gotten the hang of Star Trek and it was starting to make sense to me. And I think that was part of the appeal. When I was getting into X-Men, it was very much "go with the flow and grab a bunch of back issues to get caught up." And maybe this where the big divide comes with Star Wars and Star Trek - the one I knew since birth; the other I had to learn about and figure out.

Of course, even to someone that figured out that TOS (the original series) takes place 70 years before TNG (The Next Generation) and that DS9 (Deep Space Nine) takes place parallel to TNG and the up-coming VOY (Voyager) series, Star Trek still often times went over my head. I mean, I was 11 or 12.

But it was cool, y'know? In the 5th and 6th grades, there was always something new the next week. Even if it was boring, it was still on and, really, that's what the action figures were for. To make it interesting.

After TNG ended and I grew older and more mature, my attention really turned to Deep Space Nine. As promised, I plan on doing a huge review on the various shows, but needless to say, Deep Space Nine got to me like TOS got to people a generation before me. Maybe it was because I was older and was better able to appreciate it, but Deep Space Nine really showed me the potential of science fiction. It's not just about ships and aliens; it can be political, religious, and character-driven. The story-telling can be rich and interesting and complex.

This re-opened my eyes and as I was able to view the rest of the franchise with a different perspective. TOS and TNG grew in my eyes; they weren't just shows I liked, they were shows that were a lot deeper than I believed them to be when I was first getting into Star Trek. I became more critical of Voyager and, later, Enterprise.

Star Trek was key to my way of thinking in terms of the television. But it's also more than that.

It's a vast universe of diverse characters and is capable of bringing about a hundred different aspects of the idea of space travel. Some of them good; some of them not so good -- but at least it's different.

Star Trek is a hope for the future, yes, but it also shows us that hope isn't everything and sometimes we need to expand our minds or whip out our phasers to ensure that life continues on and that we can hold together. It is, for a show about aliens, a show about humanity.

~W~

Todd and Kelly's "Vacation"

2008-05-04T08:36:00.000-07:00

Sorry to say that Todd and Kelly will be going on a hiatus. I'm not certain of the duration or if they'll even be back. I've been having some serious trouble with this story -- not so much in the general plotting, but the characters themselves.

Todd and Kelly are two characters that I really like; Tricia and I have them developed in a certain way that appleals to the two of us. However, as characters now shoved into the "public" (as it were), they come across as bland and kinda uninteresting. Earlier today, I was thinking about them and just how "perfect" they can come across. Their conversations snap too much, they flirt too much, Todd loves Kelly, Kelly loves Todd. There's no sense of conflict; no drama, I guess.

It's hard for me to find a way to shake them up, which is one of the big reasons why I'm taking a break.

I'm not saying this story is done with; I'm hoping that I can get back to it. There may even be a short story here and there about these two. But I think they need a hiatus while I work on getting the characters and the story to where I want it to go.

But stay tuned; there are some new stories on their way. Let' s just say that no matter what happens with Coffee-Stained Romance, there is still more Todd and Kelly to come.

Coffee-Stained Romance: The Party

2008-04-28T11:41:00.000-07:00

Note: We've had a change in format here. The idea of chapters has been dropped; we're now dealing with short stories. There will be more time in between up-dates, but more material. Further, we're working on a copyright for these characters and places. Just so you know. Please to enjoy . . .

COFFEE-STAINED ROMANCE
"THE PARTY"

Kelly woke up to the sound of her alarm and shuffled her way across the room. The apartment was unusually cold and she realized that it might be time to up the temperature (and her gas bill) and bust out the heavier blankets.

The first thing she did was start her coffee. As the aroma of the brew filled the kitchen, she took her shower, discarding her pajama pants and tee shirt on the floor of the bathroom. She emerged a few minutes later, hair up in a towl and robed. She poured her cup 3/4 of the way up and added creamer to dull its pure black thrust.

She sat down on her couch and flicked on the TV. Kelly sipped at her coffee as the news played out before her. Outside, the sky was gray and it looked as though it rained last night. The trees were dull despite their warm colors. It was going to be a quiet day for Kelly. No class, no work . . . she didn't think she'd end up with a day off like this.

After a while, she grew bored with the news. She pulled on a pair of lounge pants (read: pajama pants) and a tee shirt and hungered down with her laptop. Outside, it started to rain pretty hard. Once her computer finished its despressingly slow start-up process - the machine was starting to show its age - she got on-line. Kelly made the usual rounds and finally ended up at Facebook.

Where she had an invitation to a party at Todd's place.

LORREL'S 21st BIRTHDAY!
We will drink, we will be loud, and it will be mother-fuckin' booooooze-time!!1!

"Not very subtle, are you guys?"

She wondered absently about this, about them, about Todd. Kelly seemed to be always on alert about guys. Kelly was always certain that when they were nice to her, they were nice because they liked her -- or at least liked the way she looked and wanted what she had. She felt this same way about Todd. She suspected that he was perhaps crushing on her. Maybe it was the way he wondered about how she felt about "Ultimate X-Men" or maybe it was that he had moved next to her in Comp and Lit.

She was sure, at this point, that he did in fact have a crush on her. It was just a feeling. Just a simple feeling, that's all.

Of course, Kelly didn't feel the same way back. Todd was a nice guy. He was cute and funny, but there was very little common ground. That trip to Starbucks had been a strange anomaly in what had become nothing more than a in-class friendship. He hadn't even IMed her or anything. They friended each other on both Facebook and MySpace.

But that was simply it. Nothing more, nothing less.

Let the boy have his crush, she thought with an amusing smile. It's perfectly fine. He's a nice guy. He probably won't even say anything -- and if he does, big whoop, right? Let him down easy and you'll either get a friend or lose someone who loaned you some comics and gave you a mix.

Simple as that.

She accepted the invitation.

***

Todd was doing fine after two beers. No tingle in his fingers; just a little heat in his cheeks. The party around him was chaotic. He could hear, over the pounding of the speakers, the laughing screams of young women. He heard a few shouts from just outside the backdoor, where a game of Beer-Pong was unfolding. Lorrel was doing shots already in the kitchen with Alex and Roger.

And yet, the one person Todd was really hoping would show hadn't arrived yet. His green eyes scanned the crowd and looked to the door often.

"Todd! Get your ass in here and do a shot!"

Todd complied and followed some slutty-looking chick into the kitchen. There were probably close to thirty party in the apartment, making it a little difficult to navigate. Lorrel was pouring five shots of Jack Daniel's and Todd made sure to have a beer ready as a chaser.

"To school!" Lorrel yelled out, lifting his shot glass high, but somehow managing to not spill a single drop. "To higher education!"

Todd fired it back, the liquid hot and somewhat sweet as it flowed down his throat. He chased it quickly with a beer.

"Got one for me?"

Todd turned around and there she was. Miss Kelly Shaw, with her brown hair back in a braided ponytail, wearing a jacket over a small pink top. She smiled warmly.

He pulled out a shotglass. "You sure? 'Liquor before beer . . .'"

"I thought it was 'beer before liquor.'"

"Well, that's good enough for me," Lorrel stepped in. "Get this girl a shotglass!"

"The birthday boy," Todd said, slapping Lorrel on the back.

"Nice to meet you."

"Same here," Lorrel replied, pouring the next round of shots.

"I need something to chase it down," Kelly stated.

"You can have some of my beer," Todd offered.

"Um . . ."

"Jeez Todd," Lorrel grunted, pulling out a beer from the fridge. "Here ya go."

Kelly smiled at Lorrel; a smile that lasted a little too long for Todd's taste.

They fired the Jack back and Kelly quickly turned to her beer to sooth it's burning journey. Outside, shouts from Beer-Pong echoed into the kitchen.

"Thanks," she said to Lorrel. "Getting the night off right."

"Gotta make that first one count," Lorrel responded.

"So how can you get away with a party this size without pissing off the neighbors?"

"The girt next door - Mellisa - is the one making out with Scott over there," pointed out Lorrel. "The apartment on the other side is empty and the one just after that has two guys who are playing Beer-Pong. They help provide the food and we provide the locale."

"Nice," Kelly replied, taking a swig of her beer.

"You like that kind?" Todd questioned.

She nodded. "Yeah, it's not bad."

"Hey Kelly!" shouted a girl with dirty blonde hair.

"Oh hey Sam. Didn't expect to find you here."

Samantha grinned at her apparent boyfriend. "Alex here is friends with the Beech Hill boys."

"Oh wow, hey, small world, right?" Kelly laughed.

"You two know each other?" asked Todd.

No shit Sherlock, Kelly thought immediately. "Yeah. We have a few classes together."

Samantha and Kelly began to chat. Lorrel walked over and pulled Todd out of the kitchen. "What the fuck are you doing?" he demanded just loud enough for Todd to hear.

"I have no idea." Todd sighed. "I . . . gah . . . nothing's coming out right."

Lorrel slapped his hands onto Todd's shoulders. "Just chill, dude. Relax. Finish the beer, have some more and just have a good time."

"Everything going okay?" asked David, arriving just then.

"Where the fuck you been?" Lorrel questioned.

David lifted a six pack of Smirnoff and a six pack of Mike's Hard Lemonade. "Presents."

Lorrel pulled out a Smirnoff and handed it to Todd. "Go in there and offer this to her."

Todd was pratically pushed into the kitchen. Kelly was still talking it up with Samantha.

"Um, hey Kelly. I have a Smirnoff for you if you want it."

"Huh? Oh no thanks. I've got my beer."

"I'll take it!" Samantha leapt in.

Todd handed it over.

"Thanks Todd!"

When Todd returned to the living room empty-handed, Lorrel sighed, shrugged his shoulders, and turned away from him. David, in the meantime, took Todd by the arms and lead him back through the kitchen, passed the girls, and outside.

"Let's play some Beer Pong."

By the time the game was over, the beer was flat and felt more like a punishment to drink than a pleasure. Todd was starting to feel numb in his hands and had slapped his face to see if he felt anything. He was starting not to. Which was good. It was time to get drunk.

When he returned to the living room, Samantha was nowhere to be found and Kelly was now sitting and talking with a red-haired girl he recognized from Coffee Haven; Danielle, maybe. He gave her a passing looking, but kept walking.

Lorrel was sitting out on the front porch with a pair of friends that Todd didn't really know.

"I need something that'll knock me on my ass," Todd simply interrupted.

"Dude, you're on your own now," Lorrel answered.

Todd was about to reply when suddenly, David appeared at the door. "Hey Todd, I think I just saw that girl you like go downstairs."

"My room!"

Todd moved as fast as he could through the crowd, dodging and weaving best he could to get to the kitchen and the basement door. After finally getting down the stairs, he found Kelly standing in the center of his messy room, looking at a sketchbook on his desk. She jerked her head up.

"Caught me!"

"Yeah," he replied, wishing he had.

"Sorry. I was looking for you and someone told me you were out back and then you weren't, so . . . yeah."

"You came into my room?"

She shrugged. "I was desperate."

"To talk to me?"

Kelly looked down. "Not really. To say good bye. I gotta work tomorrow and I'm already fairly tipsy. I know if I stay too long I'll just keep drinking."

"Oh. Uh, okay."

"Sorry. And uh, I couldn't help but glance at your sketchbook. You're really good."

"Thanks." He paused. "Are you going to be okay to drive?"

"I didn't drive, I walked."

"Oh! Well, let me walk you home at least!"

"What?"

"Yeah. Please. I don't want anything to happen to you."

Kelly looked up in thought, then nodded. "Yeah, sure."

The pair soon stepped outside, the air refreshingly cool after the heat of all those bodies inside the townhouse. Kelly waved at a girl who was sitting on the porch, talking with some guy. "I didn't know you guys knew so many people."

Todd grinned a little. "We don't. People know people . . . and then they all show up."

"Ah, I see. So, you guys have any more parties coming up? I'd like to come when I can actually, y'know, stay and get drunk."

"We're having a huge Halloween bash. I think Lorrell wants it to be even bigger than this one here."

"Geez."

"Yeah. It'll be a blast, I'm sure."

They chatted a bit more, reaching campus. As they made their way around the English Departments and towards the steep hill in the center of campus - in front of the Student Center - Kelly looked at a big group of students running around with no shirts on.

"What is this?" she asked.

"Hell if I know. You didn't see this sort of thing at your last school?

"No. Stark State was just one big ass building. No dorms, no nothing." She looked around then, taking in the sight of campus at night. "I definetly prefer Maxwell. Stark was great, but this actually feels like what a college should be like."

Todd didn't really have much of an answer and went a little quiet. She smiled akwardly at him and the pair kept on going.

"How's your brother?" Todd asked at last. They arrived at the edge of campus now.

"He's fine as far as I know." She said this with a tone that told Todd to not say another word. He recalled her rant at Starbucks and took the tone at its implied value.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to bring up . . ."

"It's okay."

"Uh . . . you look good tonight."

"Thanks. Are you drunk?"

"Honestly?"

"Yes."

He nodded. "A little. The night air - uh, it sobered me up a bit."

"It does do that."

"Hey, Kelly . . . uh, listen . . ." He stammered, trying to get the words straight. Trying to get his half-drunk brain to obey the parts that wanted to ask her out. "I . . . do you want to do something next Friday? Like, get some drinks? See a movie?"

"Oh Lord."

"What?"

"Todd . . ." She stopped and turned to him. "Look, you're a great guy and - "

"Oh come on! That speech?! Seriously?!"

Kelly shrugged. "I'm sorry, Todd. I just don't think of you like that. And, to be honest, I . . . I just kinda got out of this long-term relationship."

"You did?"

"Yeah. I mean, it's been a few months . . . but I'm still just not feeling like dating or going out or anything. Do you understand?"

"I guess so."

"Hey, look. I still want to be friends, okay? You're a cool guy. And I want to read the next X-Men comics!" That last part was an exaggeration.

"Right, right."

She smiled, but it wasn't nor did it look genuine. "I'm sorry, okay?"

"That's fine."

"And we're still friends?"

"Yes, of course."

She stuck out her hand for him to shake. For a brief moment, he felt like just leaning forward and kissing her instead. He fought the half-drunk instinct and shook her small hand.

"Okay," Kelly said, releasing. "I can handle it from here. See you Tuesday?"

"Tuesday it is."

Todd watched then as Kelly walked down the road and turned towards home. Sighing with utter defeat and fighting an unnerving sense of doubt and defeat within him, he turned back towards the party at Beech Hill.

***

His name was Sean Gordon and he was Kelly's first in a lot of ways. First post-high school boyfriend. First man she thought seriously about being married to. First to break her heart harder and with more devastation than all of her stupid high school boyfriends. And, of course, her first lover.

They met at Camp Y-Noah, where Kelly had volunteered to work at the summer after she graduated. It turned out he had been living just up the road a few miles and in a small allotment tucked away off Route 619.

He was her age, their birthday just a few weeks apart. She was taken immediately by his soft green eyes and those black curls that fell across the brow of his face. He was a sweet-talker, always flattering -- to the brink of making her blush furiously, face burning red. But more than anything, there was a sense of maturity within that she had never seen before in someone their age. He was smart; he often talked about wanting to become a biologist.

All of those good things came to an end when, this past June, he slapped her across the face.

Her face burned, but not out of embarassment from compliments; out of a harsh, stinging that remained on her right cheek for hours after the event.

Sean broke down crying after that and he apologized over and over. She tried to understand and even though she eventually told him he was forgiven, she lied. And everything was over with that.

Kelly did everything she could to just push the memories of Sean out of her head as she climbed the stairs to her apartment. She of course recognized that Sean and Todd were completely different people. And she understood that it had been over four months since they broke up. But it didn't change things. Not one bit. She was shaken by the end of that relationship and still felt as though starting a new one now just . . .

"I'm not ready," she sighed, flipping on her living room light. "I don't feel ready."

And she didn't feel that way about Todd. He was a sweet guy, though. And cute, to boot. But she wasn't ready to go down that road.

Kelly got changed. After she laid down in bed, a voice inside her told her something that surprised her.

You're going to have to be. Someday, you're going to have to go down that road again.

***

"Shot you down, huh?"

Todd nodded glumly and gulped his beer. "Yep."

Lorreel smirked. "Don't know what to tell ya."

"I know."

The party had surprisingly calmed down since Todd's little trip. There were maybe fifteen people left. The music had dimmed a little. Break on Through played now.

"I think you can take some comfort in a little friend of mine," Lorrell said then.

"Oh?"

He pulled out a bottle of Jack Daniels. "Let's have some drinks with Jackie boy here."

Coffee-Stained Romance, Chapter Four: Comics and Coffee

2008-04-17T20:12:00.000-07:00

Chapter Four: Comics and Coffee

Other than her job at Coffee Haven, Kelly actually had a second job. This one she considered her ‘real job,’ though it wasn’t full time nor was it looking to be. She worked at the Arlington Road Convention Center. This was the job her Associates Degree had gotten her. Well, that and her Uncle Joe who ran the Convention Center. Plus, her job wasn’t exactly exciting. Basically, she worked on the webpage, which was run by her cousins Ronnie and Alexis. She took pictures and wrote copy. It wasn’t exciting, but it was something for her resume.

This afternoon, all she had to do was take a few pictures of the comic book convention. It wasn’t the first time she’s had to do something like this, but it was in fact her first comic book convention. The floor was filled with a cavalcade of people, most of which were in their teens on up. Girls and boys in Goth-y clothes; some punks. College kids with super-hero t-shirts leaning over boxes of comics, digging intently with focused concentration on finding a long-lost issue or something. Older guys with briefcases and print-outs, laughing and talking about Star Wars. And – much to her shock and surprise – no one, not a soul, dressed in a super-hero costume. No one was dressed as a character from Star Wars or Star Trek or as Batman or Spider-Man or anyone else.

As she snapped random photos, she wondered if she could relate to anyone here. She was a closet Star Trek fan and could be pretty hard-core about it when she wanted to be. That being said, Kelly had only been to two Star Trek conventions and that was nearly ten years ago. This was different.

There was an unusual smell in the air – something like sweat and b.o. mixed with old paper and dust. It was strange.

Kelly took her last picture . . . then saw someone familiar and decided she could get one more.

“Say cheese!”

There was a flash and she suddenly had a picture of Todd looking startled as he bent over a box of comics.

“Whoa!”

“Hey,” she said, lowering her camera.

“Hi. What - what are you doing here?” He couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen her earlier.

“I do some web press for my uncle. He runs this place.”

“Web press?”

“Kinda like PR.”

“Oh yeah.”

The two had seen each other in class every Tuesday and Thursday, but other than the occasional small talk, their interaction had been light. They hadn’t seen the other at Coffee Haven at all.

“So what are you doing here?” she asked him. “I didn’t know you were into comics.”

“Heh,” was his only reply. His face turned a little red in the cheeks and he uncomfortably rubbed the back of his head. “Well, yeah, I’m actually a pretty big geek.”

Kelly grinned. “Cool.”

“Yeah, I guess. I was actually helping a buddy run his booth, but since the convention is closing up here soon, he let me wander. I’ll be coming back tomorrow, though.”

“Oh cool,” she said again. “Did you get your paper finished?”

“Almost. I just have to write it.”

She laughed a little. “It’s due Monday.”

“I know. I’ve got tomorrow yet. After I’m done here, I’ll write it up.”

“Good luck with that.”

“Thanks.”

A big guy stepped between them, his chubby fingers dancing across the box of comics with a grace that his large body wasn’t able to reproduce. Todd stepped around him, his search for JLA # 32 abandoned. Kelly watched the man’s fingers, then turned to Todd.

“How is yours coming along?”

“I’ve just got go over the rough draft with a fine-toothed comb again, and then just work up the final copy.”

“Well done.”

“Thank you.”

A pair of guys pushed by them, ignoring Todd and Kelly completely on their way to find some hot Anime babes.

“You want to get some coffee?” Todd asked suddenly and as soon as he said it, he saw a surprised look on Kelly’s face.

“What’s that?”

“I . . . I was wondering if you wanted to get some coffee. There’s a Starbucks right down the street.”

She smiled a little, then rolled her eyes in thought. Todd waited, ready for a rejection. “Uh, yeah, sure. I just have to get this to me cousin real quick,” she said, lifting up her camera. Quite accidentally, the flash suddenly flared, catching Todd’s expression of joy at the acceptance of his offer.

“A moment captured forever,” Todd laughed.

“I guess so. Listen, how about I meet you there in, like, twenty minutes?”

“Sure thing.”

“Awesome.”

Kelly gave him another small laugh, then walked away. He watched her, surprised at his own initiative in this matter. This was completely outside his normal realm of acting. But as he grabbed his last minute comics, he smiled in spite of himself.

That sunny Saturday afternoon, Starbucks was enjoying what they would consider a slightly more than average busy period. Two trios of teenage girls chatted. A woman that Todd guessed was in her early thirties sat at the other end of a long row of curved windows, talking seriously into her cell phone. Two guys nearby were talking about work while one of them held and played with a baby. A college student – Todd guessed – was sitting by himself with a laptop and a tall stack of thick books.

He sipped on a Grande White Chocolate Mocha and waited for Kelly to show up. He didn’t bother bringing in his comics, though part him thought he might as well just in case she decided not to show. He hoped that she would, but he also knew that sometimes some women creep out easily.

“Hey,” she greeted, appearing by the table like a phantom. “I’ll be right back.”

“Hey. Okay.”

Kelly went up to the counter and ordered. Todd sat there, his heart beating a little faster, trying not to stare. Instead, he looked outside. Across the street, signs for Applebees, Wal-Mart, and IHOP stood up proudly, trying to get the attention of those traveling on the highway that exited just a little down the road. The afternoon sun was glowing warmly against the clear, blue sky that was distracted only by the occasional puffy white cloud.

“Do me a favor?” Kelly said as she sat down what looked to be a Tall something. “Don’t tell my boss I’m here. I think he’d kill me.”

“Why is that? Is he one of those anti-Starbucks guys?”

“Not really, but he constantly accuses them of stealing our customers since they put one in the Hub.”

“Ah. I guess I can understand that, though to be honest, I prefer Coffee Haven. It has a certain quality to it.”

“Unique?”

“Yeah. Definitely.”

She nodded confidently. “I love coffee houses. I mean, I like Starbucks and Caribou Coffee and the like, but you can’t beat a privately-owned coffeehouse.” She paused and looked to her drink. “I have a bizarre interest in coffee.”

He snorted a little. “I have a bizarre interest in comics. It’s not a big deal.”

“But at least comics are normal.”

“Ha! Glad you understand.”

“Heheh, well, okay . . . it’s not like everyone is into comics.”

“They should be. They’re good.”

She drank some of her coffee. “I guess not everyone’s into super-heroes.”

“Comics aren’t just about super-heroes.”

She snapped her fingers. “Oh yeah, yeah. What are those shows on after Family Guy on Adult Swim? Anime? I guess there’s that.”

“Oh well, yeah, there’s that, but that’s something else all together. Comics aren’t just about science fiction and fantasy and super-heroes. It’s a very elaborate form of storytelling. Everyone just looks at these clichés and at these ideas that stem from that stupid Batman show from the 60s. Comics – super-hero comics – stopped being ‘Bam! Pow!’ decades ago.”

“Oh?”

“Yes! It’s about a marriage of literature and art. It’s a form of storytelling that is engraved in human history. Cave man paintings? Hieroglyphics? There are some people that consider those a primal form of comic storytelling. They’re far more than the average person gives them credit for.”

“You’ve had this little rant saved up for a while now, haven’t you?”

“Well . . .” His face blushed just a little. She smiled. It was cute. “I guess so, yeah.”

She sipped her coffee. “Well, I never really thought of comics like that. I was dragged to a few super-heroes movies. They were pretty good, I guess. The X-Men movies were good.”

He nodded. “Yeah, they are. The comics are good too.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. I can – I can loan you some.” He took another drink of his coffee. It was starting to cool, becoming a little sweeter as the syrup settled and the coffee cooled. “But, uh, like I was saying, there’s more than just super-heroes. There are tons of other genres. My philosophy is that for every movie or television show or book, there’s a counter part in the comics for them.”

“And what comic would you suggest for me?”
“I don’t know what you’re into.”

“I love movies. Old movies, especially, but I like a lot of different movies. And coffee, like I said.”

Todd paused, thinking hard, but bringing up a lot of blanks. “Hmmm, uh, let me think here. Road to Perdition, the one that was adapted into a movie with Tom Hanks? That’s a good one. Maybe League of Extraordinary Gentlemen.”

She shook her head passionately. “No, no. I don’t think so. The movie was terrible.”

“Oh, yeah, the movie is a pile of shit, but the comic is fuckin’ brilliant.”

“I can’t imagine that.”

“It’s true! Trust me.”

“Okay, well, what else?”

“Blankets, maybe. It’s pretty great. Artsy, but good. If you’re into that.”

Her eyes lit up. “I think I’ve heard of that, actually. It was reviewed on NPR.”

“You listen to NPR?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m a dork. But I love it.”

“Isn’t it just all talk radio or something? I know they play at Coffee Haven all the time, but I usually tune it or listen to my iPod . . .”

“Ha! IPod, heh, Mr. High-Tech . . .”

“It’s freakin’ sweet, is what it is.”

“Maybe. I can’t afford one.”

“I got it for a birthday present, actually.”

“Oh, I see.”

They both paused, silence filling in. Kelly drank and looked outside briefly. Cars zoomed by. The silence was a little uncomfortable and Todd searched hard for something to talk about. He figured she had heard enough about comic books.

“You-you do know what the date is, don’t you?” she asked timidly.

Todd nodded solemnly “Yes.” He paused. “Where were you?”

She lowered her eyes. “Home, sick. I remember lying in bed when the phone rang. It was my Dad, telling us that a plane hit one of the towers. Between the time he found out and we turned on the TV, the second plane hit. You?”

“School. They tried to continue on with classes, but most of the teachers wanted to watch it all happen as much as we did. One of my teachers actually had a daughter living in New York.”

“Bet she was worried.”

“Yeah. She got a call from her in the middle of class. Grabbed her cell phone and answered it. I remember, it was a big deal because no one was allowed to use – or even have – a cell phone in the school. But she knew we wouldn’t say anything and it was pretty ‘fuck you’ to the administrators if they got on her about using the phone in class. But yeah, her daughter called, and she answered and she just broke down crying when she got the call. Her daughter was near ground zero.”

“Now we’re at war.”

He nodded. “Yeah. I remember being all gung-ho for the war in Afghanistan. Now look at this mess in Iraq.”

“You don’t have to tell me. I have a brother over there.”

Todd started. “Really?”

“Yeah. It’s . . . not easy. He joined up so he could hunt down Osama. Now he’s running around Baghdad or wherever.”

“How does he feel about that?”

“He hates it. It’s not what he signed up to do and it’s not like he has much say. Thank God he only has one more year of this, and then, he’s out.”

“Crimeny.”

“It’s Bush, though. That fucking idiot.” She paused and looked at him, worried that maybe that was too much. Instead, he had a look of sadness mixed with curiosity and uncertainty. “Sorry. I’m a pretty hard-core Democrat.”

“Ah, well, so am I, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“Yeah. I’m definitely not a Republican. I mean, I believe in God and all that, but eh, yeah.”

“Since when did Republican become the same thing as being Christian? I hate that. I’m a Christian too, but I can’t and won’t support Bush. All he’s trying to do right now is throw out all these so-called mid-western values to appeal to Christians. All this bull-shit about abortion, the space program, and gay marriage. It’s all just crap to win over voters.”

He avoided saying anything to contrary, though Todd wondered just what in the world the space program had to do with mid-western values. He also avoided saying that the Democrats were doing a very similar thing to what Bush was doing – appealing to left-winged values in the hopes of winning over their votes. He worried about offending her, but also, he worried about revealing that when it came to politics, he wasn’t very passionate.

“Just as long as we can get out of Iraq,” he said after a pause.

“Well, that’s the bitch of it, Todd,” she said now a little louder and it was only the very few times she had ever said his name. “It’s not just getting out of Iraq, y’know? It’s not like World War Two or Korea or even Desert fucking Storm. We just aren’t to raise our fingers in the air in the shape of a ‘V,’ declare victory, then head on out with a perfect mother-fucking country sitting there. We are stuck there. We are so god damn tangled up with these insurgents and rebels and fucking terrorists that we are stuck there for years. Bush can stand on a stupid air craft carrier and yell out ‘Mission Accomplished’ and fly a stupid jet as though we’ve captured Saddam and Iraq is the perfect country, but - ” She stopped, her heart thundering, her breathing heavy. A nearby couple were staring. She looked to Todd, her face burning with embarrassment.

Oh my God, he’s going to go running out of here at any second, she realized.

“I’m . . . sorry about that. I’m just – you can’t get me started on that subject without expecting me to get all sorts of worked up.”

He waved his hands. “It’s – it’s okay. You want to change the subject?”

She nodded. “Please.”

“What’s your major?”

“English, I guess. You?”

“Graphic Arts and Illustration.”

“You’re an artist?”

“Trying to be.” He picked his cup, which was now empty. “I actually, heh, am trying to launch webcomic, but I don’t know a damn thing about building a website.”

“My cousins run my uncles website for the convention center. I could ask them to help you.”

“Oh, thanks. Yeah, hook me up with their e-mail.”

“Sure.”

“So . . . English? Anything you can do with that?”

“I don’t know. I want to be a writer. I have a few blogs and I actually have my Associates Degree in Technical Communication.”

“What’s that?”

“Writing, like, for websites and catalogs and technical manuals. It’s . . . okay, I guess.”

Todd started ripping the overlap of the coffee sleeve off. “Where did you get your Associates?”
“Stark State. Every heard of it?”

“Nope.”

“That’s okay.”

“Big plans for tonight? Saturday night, y’know? Going out to party?”

“Nah. I gotta work tomorrow morning.”

“You?”

“Nope. I gotta work a few hours in the morning, and then I’m back up here around 12.” He slapped the table like a drum.

“Where do you work?”

“Manny’s Merchandise,” he said with very little enthusiasm. “It’s an outlet store.”

“Yeah, I’ve been there.”

“My Dad owns the chain.”

“Wow. I bet you’re pretty loaded, huh?”

“Haha, nope. Presidents of those places don’t make as much money as people think they do.”

“But enough to get an iPod, right?”

“Ha, yeah.”

“So what’s on your iPod?”

“A lot. Belle & Sebastian is frequent right now.”

“Who and who?”

“You’ve never heard of Belle & Sebastian? That’s – okay, that’s it. I’m officially making you a CD. And I’m giving you comics.”

She laughed. “Seriously?”

“Yes. I’ll give you some Ultimate X-Men and B&S and League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. You’ll have it Tuesday morning.”

“Okay.” She laughed again. “Sounds good. But what about you?”

“What about me?”

“What am I giving you?”

“I dunno.”

“I’ll think of something,” she said, eyes looking outside again. She sighed a little as the conversation dwindled into another awkward silence, though it was less uncomfortable this time. “I should head out soon.”

“Me too. I supposed to do some grocery shopping today.”

“I did mine yesterday. Is it just me or was the prospect of doing your own grocery shopping better than actually having to?”

“Agreed. It sucks.”

Kelly smiled broadly and stood up. “Welcome to adulthood, I guess.”

Todd joined her. “Thanks.”

The pair stepped outside.

“Tuesday?” he asked.

“Tuesday,” she answered.

Todd and Kelly walked to their cars and as they got in, there was a breeze that carried with it the first hints of autumn.

Just real quick . . .

2008-04-15T20:39:00.001-07:00

I just wanted to thank some of you for posting comments on here and Facebook in regards to "Coffee-Stained Romance."

Don't be surprised if the next chapter or two don't reflect some of the suggestions. They were written/posted before I noticed some of the comments.

Keep up the constructive criticism! That's why I've started posting it!

Coffee-Stained Romance, Chapter Three: Passing By

2008-04-15T20:06:00.000-07:00

Chapter Three: “Passing By”

“‘A Clean, Well-Lighted Place?’ What did we think of it?”

O’Reily eyed them all, looking at everyone and no one, picking their brains with his eyes. No one answered. No one had anything to say about it. He wasn’t exactly surprised. College students were useless before noon without some encouragement.

“Group up. You guys in the center, you guys in the back, and you guys over here. Three groups and discuss. Whoever gets it right, gets a quiz grade. How’s that?”

The groups gathered. Todd was pushed together with the fat weird guy who apparently today, ran out of deorant, the blonde texting ace, a guy with a shaved head that sat behind him, and that Kelly girl.

“Okay, so who actually read the story?” asked shaved head.

“I did,” Kelly answered.

“So did I,” fat weird guy added, his eyes veering towards Kelly’s chest.

“I didn’t get it,” sighed texting queen. “Some old guy was drunk and these two waiters were bitching about it.”

“Well,” Todd started, “I suppose we can go from there.”

“I thought it was significant that the two waiters were kinda bored with the old man,” fat weird guy said.

“I think it was more than that,” Kelly added. “Did anyone else pick up on the ages?” she asked meekly, as though every word from her lips was being judged.

“Yeah,” Todd answered. “The young waiter, the middle aged waiter, and the old guy. They got more and more miserable the older they got.”

“So what?” asked texting queen, glancing at her phone as it sat silently on the table.

“Haha! Old people are miserable, huh? That’s no big shocker. My Grandma’s a real bitch,” shaved head said crudely.

“Why is she so bitchy?” asked texting queen.

“I dunno. She’s old!”

Kelly rolled her eyes. Todd caught it and smiled. “Why are old people miserable?” he tried.

“Because they’re going to die,” fat weird guy said with a creepy grim tone.

“Which explains why the old guy was so miserable. And a drunk,” Kelly tossed in.

“He was deaf. That probably sucks a lot and he wants to die,” texting queen said. “That’s why he tried to kill himself in the beginning.”

“Just because someone is deaf doesn’t make them suicidal,” sighed Todd.

“Deaf and old,” she corrected him. “Geez.”

“I’m wondering if the light is important,” Todd said, trying to get things back on track.

“I’m sure it is,” Kelly replied.

“Of course it is!” fatty insisted. “It’s in the title, remember? ‘A Clean, Well-Lighted Place.’”

“Well, light represents life in a lot of ways,” said Kelly.

“Right. The young waiter, he’s going home - ”

“To plow his wife,” fatty interrupted. Shaved head snorted.

“Right. He’s going home. Married, you can bet his wife keeps things clean. And probably leaves the light on for him at night,” Todd stated.

“I don’t know about that, but I think you’re on the right page.” Kelly tapped her chin. “If you think about it, the middle-aged guy just wants to be someplace clean and well-lit, right? The café is clean and well-lit. It makes him happy. When he goes to that bar, though . . .”

“He loses his faith. It’s dark. He’s afraid.”

“Of death.”

“Exactly.”

Kelly smiled with satisfaction. “Okay. So let’s get this straight. The old man? The deaf one who is suicidal? He wanders off into the dark. Probably going die soon.”

“Yep!” Shaved head added. “Won’t hear a bus comin’ or something like that. WHAM!”

Fat weird-o laughed stupidly.

Kelly gave her head a dismissive shake. “All right, so yeah, the young one is heading home, probably to a clean house. He’s happy. Middle-aged, not so much. Not married, or he’d be going home to her. Instead, he leaves this lighted place and goes some place dark. He’s loses hope and faith.”

“Because why?” Fatty asked.

“Because he’s unhappy and he’s scared of death. I mean, you can have all the faith you want, but at the end of your life, faith or not, death is coming for you,” Todd summed up.

Kelly nodded with approval. “Yep!”

“So what does this mean? What’s the theme?”

“Life is light?” Kelly wondered. “I don’t know. There’s a lot of symbolism.”

“Stay in the light as long as possible,” texting queen said suddenly, sounding smart; as if she received a text message to the brain telling her what to say. “Live your life.”

“Sounds good,” Kelly admitted.

“I’m with ya,” Todd returned.

“Whatever,” Shaved head stated with no commitment to his answer.

“I’m fine with it.”

They were right, of course, thanks to texting queen’s burst of intelligence. The group broke up and they soon were discussing symbolism, which was then followed by a packet of information regarding their first paper.

***

Professor Kate Kaufman was born a woman, but may have preferred to have been born a guy. Aside from the flat chest, thin hips, and the ever-present less-than-subtle facial hair, there was also the matter of her dress and haircut. She wore clothes that were far too large for her stick-like body – often being a power suit or khakis that did nothing to improve her figure. Her hair was short and not cute; it was a bob cut, but trimmed thinly close to her scalp.

If Todd didn’t know any better, he would have assumed she was a lesbian. However, on the first day of class, her husband was in, helping her with a computer program. He looked like Shaggy from Scooby-Doo in human form. Part of him resisted the concept of the two of them in the sack, but his mind couldn’t help but imagine the horrified image.

“Oh Kate, darling, I love how manly you are!”

“I was thinking about buying a strap-on, dear. What do you think?”

“Zoinks! I love that idea!”

Todd shivered and focused on his graphic arts class work. The class itself was a waste of time to him, really. Todd didn’t know Photoshop that well, of course, but it seemed like Kaufman didn’t know it either. The entire course appeared to be them simply following instructions from the book. Cut this, paste it here, spin it, distort, put it here. What was the point of this? He didn’t care that he could one thing, then another. He wanted to know how it worked and when to use it and why he should use it.

As soon as class ended, Todd darted out of there. He made for his bike and rushed across campus. He left campus on the west side and rode over to Comic Land! Since Labor Day was Monday, New Comic Book Day was pushed back from Wednesday to Thursday. He locked up his bike and walked in.

Behind the counter were two gentlemen, one older, bearded, and wearing an Avengers t-shirt. The other was scrawny and a few years younger than his associate. He waved to Todd and fetched Todd’s comics from the row of short-boxes behind the counter.

Uncanny X-Men, Ultimate Spider-Man, JLA, and Fantastic Four. “Marvel heavy this week,” the scrawny guy, Chuck, had to say.

“That’s fine, actually,” Todd replied. “I’m in a Marvel mood.”

Chuck snorted a little. “Heh. Cool. What do you think of Disassembled?”

“Meh, it’s okay. JLA is really losing me, though.”

“That what you mean by being in a Marvel mood?”

“Yeah. Mark Waid’s FF run is genius. I mean, okay, well, the Fearsome Five story sucked, but this one with Galactus has been great. Plus . . . Ultimate Spider-Man is Ultimate Spider-Man. 100% quality.”

Chuck nodded. “No kidding. Oh hey, Rick wanted to talk to you.”

The bearded clerk – Rick – walked over. “Hey Todd, I wanted to know if you could give us a hand at the Epic Con in a few weeks.”

“The tenth through the twelfth, right?”

“Yes,” Rick said after a second of recall. “We just need someone to help handle customers. Can you get off work?”

“Can you pay me?”

Rick nodded. “Yeah. Plus store credit the next Wednesday as long as you don’t buy any trades.”

“I’m up for it.”

Todd paid up, tossed the comics in his bag, and headed back outside to his bike. He rode over to the Coffee Haven. Once there, he pulled off his back pack and entered. He ordered a Vanilla Latte, got it, then had a seat.

His hands moved swiftly through the stack of comics, creating a reading order. Fantastic Four first, then Ultimate Spider-Man, JLA, and then Uncanny X-Men at the bottom – if just to wash out the taste of JLA. Really, he should drop the book from his Pull List.

Just as Todd was about to open up Fantastic Four . . . when his eye caught the door opening up and Kelly walking in. She was dressed in all black, topped with a navy blue beret; two braided pigtails hung across her shoulders. Kelly didn’t even notice Todd as she went behind the counter.

Todd blinked and looked down at his comics. He felt the beginnings of embarrassment. What if she saw him reading comics? Would she go to the cliché? That he lives in his parents basement or is a super-nerd?

Before he knew it, Todd was putting the comics away and replacing them with his school sketchbook. He couldn’t believe it. He just couldn’t. He had always prided himself of not being ashamed of his love of comics . . . but here he was, scared this girl he barely even knew would make fun of him for it or think less of him.

Todd did his sketch homework, which was to draw and shade an inanimate object. He did so with the mug in front of him. It wasn’t hard work, really. He was quite good, despite how much he put himself down and how much he sometimes felt he couldn’t figure out.

With the homework finished, Todd decided to return the mug to the counter. Kelly saw him and offered him a smile.

“Oh hey,” she said, her cute twirled hair swishing around her face as she came up from behind the counter. “What’s up?”

“Not much. You?” he asked, putting the mug on the counter.

“Oh, just working.”

“Oh yeah? You work here?” STUPID!

Kelly giggled a little. “Yep, I guess so. Been here about two months.”

“Really? I come in here all the time. I guess I just never noticed or just haven’t been here at the right time.”

She smiled and nodded.

“Uh, well, it’s clean, well-lighted place,” Todd said then, trying to be sly and witty.

She giggled again. “Well, I hope so. I have to clean it up enough times, y’know?”

“Yeah. Okay, well, see ya.”

“Tuesday!”

“Yeah, Tuesday.”

He grabbed his bag and took off, wanting to smash his head in for the ‘You work here?’ comment. What an idiot . . .

***

Kelly returned to her apartment shortly after 11:30 that night. She unloaded her backpack. Tomorrow she would have to work in the morning, but after that, she was done for the day. No work, no school, just the afternoon to bum around campus or whatever. Kelly pulled out her packet from Democrats At Maxwell. Included in this packet were two Kerry/Edwards bumper stickers, a list of scheduled events, a Kerry/Edwards pin, a ‘Somewhere in Texas, A Village Is Missing Its Idiot’ pin, and a contact sheet. She smiled, but wondered if she was really making any sort of difference here. Kelly was excited to be a part of this and loved bashing Bush, but . . .

It didn’t bring her brother home from Iraq. The headlines mentioned more deaths in that far away land, but it didn’t indicate that Josh was among them. She didn’t even know where in Iraq he was. It pained her, not knowing. The whole fucking war pained her.

She pulled her hair out of the braids, leaving it a wavy, curly mess. There was no point in messing with it now. Kelly put it back in a ponytail and changed into her pajamas. She turned on the television just to drown out the all-too-real imaginings of hearing about Josh’s death.

Some old episode of Friends helped with that. It got her laughing, flushing away dark and frightening thoughts. Got her mind away from all this mess.

After Friends was over, she grabbed her latest read (Stephen King’s Everything’s Eventual) and went to bed. She read through some of one of the short stories in said book. Kelly prayed routinely, but was sure to emphasize Josh’s safety. Shortly afterward, Kelly fell asleep, her hair lying around her face like pinwheel.

Coffee-Stained Romance, Chapter Two: Tuesday

2008-04-10T13:39:00.000-07:00

Chapter Two: Wednesday

Kelly May Shaw awoke with a start. She was having a dream that involved worms and garbage cans and something about a pillow. It didn’t matter; her alarm was about to go off at any second. She turned from her bed and stood up slowly. Kelly arched her back, stretching it after that hard sleep, the dream fading quickly.

She walked into the bathroom, did her business and hopped into the shower. Fifteen minutes later, she emerged in her bathrobe, her hair up in a towel that reminded her of a turban. When she was a kid, she would invite the neighbor boy over and made him wear a towel-turban and pretended he was Punjab from ‘Annie.’ Part of her wondered if that was offense in these less than innocent days.

Kelly grabbed the paper, eyes briefly glancing over the headlines. Two suicide attacks in Israel kills 16 and injures 60; there’s also the WTO issuing impositions on sanctions on the US for global trade law violations. She glanced over some of the other headlines, then grabbed her completed contact form for Democrats At Maxwell and slipped it into her backpack.

Kelly’s expert hands crafted a homemade Vanilla Mocha Espresso, which she sipped as she reviewed her campus map and class schedule.

Her hair dried, Kelly pulled on a yellow sleeveless top and a brown skirt. She put on a little jewelry here and there (a bracelet from her Mom, a necklace she picked up over the summer, a pair earrings) and left her apartment. In her hand was her new schedule, since her last one was kicked out of Maxwell University’s system because her father’s payment was just a wee bit late.

Writing for Web was first. It was a class she dreaded; nothing but some 40-something Professor trying to be web-savvy and hip. He didn’t even know what LOL or BRB meant.

Kelly walked to the parking lot beside her complex and leapt into her Jeep Liberty. She drove off to her first class, which was clear on the other side of campus. She lived right across the street, but on the north side. Writing for Web and Mass Communication were both located in the O’Brien and Surber Buildings to the south. Her third class for the day, Interactive Media, was near the center of campus – White Building.

This was Kelly’s first semester here at Maxwell State University, having completed two years in Technical Communication at Stark State. She was able to transfer seamlessly without losing a single credit. However, there were some small issues. Kelly was 23 and a few of her classes had kids fresh outta high school in them. The small gap was enough to surprise her. She was embarrassed to talk about her semesters off or why it took her so long to get her Associates Degree.

Kelly tried not to give a damn; tried not to care. But she did. She couldn’t help it. She couldn’t help but wonder what people thought of her. Did they maybe think she was stupid for having to be in school for so long? Did they think she came from a poor family?

She assured herself that they probably didn’t care at all. What did it matter? What did it matter what anyone thought of her?

Kelly turned on NPR and finished her drive to class.

She actually parked at the White Building, and then walked to Surber. People passed her left and right, but she didn’t pay them any attention. White Building made up three buildings that circled the Campus Center, where the administrative offices were. This was all the fairly new while Surber and O’Brien were the older buildings. O’Brien actually used to the Campus Center until 1959. This was all detailed to her in the visitation packet and the new student information book that now sat in her living room.

Her first class was as boring as she expected it. Writing for Web was one class that she had hoped would have gotten re-scheduled and she had gotten a new instructor during the whole new schedule fiasco. No such luck, of course. Of course.

Mass Communication was next and it was located across from Surber in O’Brien. Not only was it the Journalism building, it also held headquarters to the ‘To The Max’ newsmagazine and the ‘Daily Maxwell,’ the daily Maxwell University newspaper. Mass Communication was a far more interesting class and while they were still dealing with things Kelly learned back at Stark State, she was nonetheless interested in what this school had to say about them.

Interactive Media had surprised her. A name like that and there were no computers to be found. The Professor was looked to be in her fifties, but as she spoke and explained about the relationship between culture and media, Kelly could tell right off the bat that she was smarter than the Writing for Web Prof.

Kelly left the White Building and got back into her jeep. It was warm, the summer still stretching hard into September. She returned home and couldn’t help but feel like a bit of a hypocrite. Kelly loved to think of herself as green – very environmentally conscience. And yet, here she was, running her little gas-guzzling jeep to work and school when they were really not that far away. Walking distance, really.

“I gotta blog about this,” she mumbled as her apartment door was swung open. She had an hour and a half before work.

The living room was made of old furniture that didn’t match each other (a blue plaid couch, a red chair, and fake wood TV stand). Movie posters sat framed on the walls. The kitchen was comprised of coffee memorabilia – signs made to look old and worn advertising coffees and teas. A few coffee books sat on the counter between the microwave and the coffee-maker.

She was a coffee addict.

Kelly got changed into something less dressy. Jeans, black shirt, hair in a ponytail. She sat down and got on-line and started typing away in her LiveJournal:

Second day of “new” classes. Wasn’t too bad. I still hate my Writing for Web Professor, though. He’s just so pompous and arrogant and, well, really has no idea what he’s talking about. I was really thinking ‘Man! How progressive! Writing for Web! Awesome!’ And instead, I get Professor Mallory, who I think helped create the Internet, but hasn’t spent anytime on it.

Loved Interactive Media, though. Same with Mass Communication.

I’m officially launching my ‘Kelly Goes Green’ initiative tomorrow. I need to stop being such a hypocrite and just start walking. Unless it rains. Also, I bought these canvas shopping bags at the grocery store last week. I am going to use them on Saturday. I may look like a dork

using them, but damn it, I gotta start somewhere, right?

Right.

Okay, well, gotta head off to work soon. Coffee won’t make itself!

Kelly posted, checked her friends entries, then put up a new Away Message and headed on out. She did actually drive her jeep, since it would be late when she’d get off and she didn’t know how long it would take her to get to work by foot.

She arrived at Coffee Haven.

“Hey Kelly,” Danielle greeted behind the counter. She was the one that got Kelly the job.

“Hey,” Kelly replied and slipped through the door that led to the side-room off the counter. “Busy today?”

“Not very. How was class?”

“Not too bad.”

Kelly worked at Coffee Haven for two months now, having moved here in July.

While Danielle handled the counter, getting drink orders for Chocolate Mocha Carmel Turtles and Espresso Delights and Coffee Launchers, Kelly filled the large coffee containers that sat on the shelf behind them, under a sign that said: ‘COFFEES OF THE WORLD!’ sitting between two hand-drawn pictures of the Earth. Ten hand-pump canisters filled with Kenya AA, Mocha Java, Costa Rican Terrazu, Sumatra, French Roast, Italian Roast, Columbian Supremmo, Kona Island Blend, Jamaican Blue Mountain, and Guatemala Estate were soon warm and ready to pour.

The rest of the work day was pretty easy and usually just involved making a few drinks and here and there. Jack, the manager showed up an hour later, a friendly guy in his mid-thirties. A bit of a hippie and beat-nick. Coffee-lover.

By the time 11:00 PM rolled around, Kelly was ready to go. The last group of coffee-drinkers were gently pushed out the door and Kelly wiped down the tables.

She returned home, opened her Lit book and started reading Ernest Hemmingway’s ‘A Clean, Well-Lighted Place.’

Coffee-Stained Romance, Chapter One: Tuesday

2008-04-08T08:22:00.000-07:00

Note: Todd and Kelly are the property of Kevin Woodside and Tricia Clem. Use of these characters is not permitted. For further details, please contact Kevin Woodside at the e-mail address provided. The story may not be re-posted anywhere else with the permission of Kevin Woodside.

Author's Note: I've been working on this story on and off for a while now. My hope was to publish it, but to be honest, I don't know how good it is . . . so I'm putting it here, on my LJ, and on my DA page. For now. Please feel free to comment and let me know what you think.

Chapter One: Tuesday

The alarm thundered and roared, red and loud, echoing through the finished basement of the townhouse. Todd turned in his bed and with an instinct ingrained since the 6^th grade, pressed the bar neatly labeled ‘SNOOZE.’ His hand dropped over to the side of the bed and Todd’s eyes stared mercilessly at the 7:30 AM and calculated in his head just how long it would take him to get up, take a shower, get dressed, and make it to class on time. By his best estimates, he could risk laying in bed for ten more minutes.

And he did.

Nine and a half minutes later, the alarm came again and Todd resisted the urge to depress the snooze bar and instead rose up slowly from a tangle of sheets and blankets. He staggered uneasily to the stairs and ventured into the kitchen. His roommates weren’t up yet, which was kind of a blessing. It meant he could get to the shower before they used up the hot water.

Todd started the coffee maker, then went upstairs to shower. He returned to the kitchen some ten minutes later, clean as a whistle and dressed. He poured his coffee into a mug and slipped back downstairs into his basement bedroom. He had gotten lucky with this room. Despite it being freezing cold in the winter, it was still the biggest out of the three.

Todd gathered together the materials he would need for the day – only after double-checking his schedule. It was only the second week of school. Two classes today – Composition and Literature first, followed by Graphic Design, with forty-five minutes in between.

He began to dig through a pile of sketchbooks until he found his Comp and Lit book. He tossed it into his backpack and it was soon joined by a college ruled notebook and his Graphic Design sketchbook.

Todd turned to his computer and realized that he had left Photoshop on all night. A character sketch he had scanned in yesterday was still open. He closed Photoshop and changed his Away Message. He then finished his coffee, trotted upstairs, and out the back door. His bike was waiting for him.

His friend Jason in Life Drawing had proclaimed Todd’s riding of the bike as ‘uber-lame,’ but Todd didn’t care. It was the only exercise he got. Before starting off, Todd pulled out his iPod, put in the earplugs, and started playing Belle and Sebastian. Best get the day off to good start, right? And what better way than with as great a song as ‘Lazy Line Painter Jane.’

The air was warm and the green leaved trees were defiantly resisting the name ‘Fall Semester.’ Summer still held a firm grip in the early weeks of September, though Todd acknowledged that summer to him was over. It was the day after Labor Day and he considered that the end of summer. He and his buddies celebrated by getting as drunk as they could.

Todd’s bike took him to the end of Beech Hill Road, where it dead-ended with Maxwell. He turned onto Maxwell Road, eyes carefully looking out for pedestrians and cars. It didn’t take very long for him to get onto campus and to follow the campus roads to the Surber Building. By the time he arrived and locked up his bike, the iPod had shuffled over to Belle and Sebastian’s ‘Photo Jenny.’ He popped out the earplugs and arrived in his first floor classroom.

It was a pretty well-packed class and Todd was forced to sit in the middle between a heavy-set weird guy he had a conversation with last semester and a blonde chick that spent more time texting than talking. Todd wasn’t quite early, but there were still people coming in. He glanced up at them every now and then, as did everyone else that was already sitting, thinking that the Professor would step in instead of a student.

At 8:31 AM, the door opened and in walked Professor O’Reily, wearing slacks and a navy blue sweater vest. He was a round man with a salt and pepper beard and a scalp that was overcoming his graying hair. He carried with him a thermos mug of coffee and a stack of books and papers.

“Good morning,” he greeted. The morning class gave a pathetic half-hearted reply. O’Reily sipped his coffee and opened up his attendance book.

The door swung open and a late-comer showed up. It was a girl with chestnut-mocha hair and big brown eyes. She looked uncomfortable and uncertain. Todd looked to her, his eyes automatically drinking in her appearance. Her face was lean and with a nose that turned up just a bit; her chest was medium, but on the larger end of that scale. The girl’s waist was trim and her hips were average. Her legs were not particularly long, but not exactly short. Todd tore his eyes from her, hoping she wouldn’t notice or be offended by his checking her out.

“Hello,” she said, producing an unevenly folded piece of paper from her pocket. “I’m joining your class.”

O’Reily raised a shaggy eyebrow. “You are?”

“Yes, there was an . . . issue with my schedule and they had to re-assign my classes.”

She handed over the paper and he looked hard at it. “Kelly Shaw?”

“Yeah.”

He gave it back to her. “Welcome. Do you have your book?” She nodded. He waved to the rows of tables and chairs. “Take a seat then, Miss Shaw.”

She looked around for an empty chair and found one in the back of the classroom. Todd glanced back at her as a she sat down. This time, she noticed and looked back. He looked away quickly and turned his attention to O’Reily. O’Reily went through his roster and opened his book.

“John Updike’s A&P. What did we think? Mister - ” Glancing at the roster. “- Beckley.”

“Uh, oh,” Todd attempted, sitting up. “I liked it.”

“Good. And why is that?”

“I, uh, used to work at a grocery store and I remember hot chicks coming in and creating a subtle ruckus all the time.”

O’Reily smiled and there were a few sleepy giggles from the class. “‘Subtle ruckus?’” questioned O’Reily with an amused smile. “I like that description. What would you say the story was about?”

“Me?”

“Sure.”

“Uh . . . quitting your job?”

O’Reily looked away from Todd. “Nope. Sorry. Anyone else? Melissa, right?”

The class went on from there. They discussed the theme of A&P, which even by the end of the class, wasn’t exactly clear to Todd, though he had a feeling that even if he had a chance to fully garner the theme of A&P, it would have only stuck around in his head until the exam, then it would be replaced by whatever their next chapter would be shoved into his brain.

Todd glanced at Kelly, but she was long gone before he had a chance to take another long look at her. He popped her earplugs back in, put on something more exciting than Belle and Sebastian (which would be Spoon) and rode off on his bike to Graphic Design.

After a while there, being instructed by Professor Kate Kaufman, Todd headed back to the townhouse, his education finished for the day.

Todd tossed his bag onto the couch of the living room and walked into the kitchen. The good thing about Tuesdays was that after twelve noon, he had the whole day to piss away. Thinking logically, that meant he could do some homework, reading, whatever. But this afternoon, Todd had greater things on his mind. He had his webcomic.

Or, really, what he hoped would someday become his webcomic.

A little over eight months ago, Todd felt inspired by the works of other people and he gathered together ideas from his past. Characters that never found their right place in old D&D campaigns. A sketch of a few random characters. A beautiful painting of a castle he had done back his senior year. Todd poured his creative energy into bringing these things together, to pulling them to a center – to create a basis for which he could launch a comic strip onto the Internet.

But there were problems. The first one being that he had very little to no website building knowledge. He had friends that did, but honestly, he felt like he’d be using them. There were ways around that, of course, and that’s by posting on LiveJournal or DeviantArt or even Blogger. But what webcomic great got their start that way?

The second problem was that he didn’t have the skills he felt he needed to do the job. Basically meaning, his lack of computer-related graphic design programs. He could operate Photoshop enough to clean up his artwork, but it was making it perfect with Photoshop and other programs that eluded Todd.

Finally, and more importantly, was that Todd just couldn’t get the story right. Every time he tried to write a script, it felt wrong. Every time he tried to draw a panel for which his characters to exist, it seemed to just fall apart. Part of him dreamed of this being his epic, his Lord of the Rings, his Harry Potter, and The Chronicles of Narnia. He wanted it to be grand and perfect. Getting it there . . . was proving to be impossible.

Todd poked around a character design on Photoshop until he grew tired of looking at a screen.

Coffee.

Coffee would make him focus and fill him with energy. Getting out of the townhouse from which he had lived for about a year would help too; freshen up the mind. Todd grabbed his satchel and placed within a few sketchbooks, some pencils and erasers, and a few other doodads. He then again took his bike back down Beech Hill Road, this time turning left onto Maxwell. Within moments, he was parking his bike in front of Coffee Haven.

“Hey! Todd!” yelped an overweight kid about Todd’s age from across the room.

“Hello Greg.”

Greg Ashmore was a pain in the ass. Todd liked him okay and was about the only other person he knew that read the same comics Todd did . . . but he took a bizarre pleasure in ranting, raving, and generally over-thinking each and every one of them. As Todd reluctantly walked over, he saw that Greg was in the middle of re-reading last week’s load.

Coffee Haven was what one would expect from a coffeehouse. College-aged hipsters hanging around in the middle of the afternoon, drinking their tea and coffee. It had the expected smell of roasted coffee beans and the sound of clattering dishes mixed with conversation and the roaring of a faucet behind the counter. An espresso machine blared every now and then. The local NPR station (WKMX) played on beneath these sounds, a marathon of classical music that Todd appreciated, even if he wasn’t the biggest fan.

After getting a Café Mocha (cheap, common, but had the certain unique qualities that only Coffee Haven’s baristas offered), Todd took a seat across from Greg. Reluctantly.

“So, what’s up, bro?” asked Greg.

“Nothing much.”

“Is that your sketchbook?”

“Yes.”

“Can I see it?”

“Not today, buddy,” Todd answered through an insincere smile. “Not until I’ve got some good stuff to show for it.”

“Oh. Okay. So, hey, did you read Avengers last week?”

“Yeah.”

“Wasn’t it just awful? What is Marvel thinking putting Brian Michael Bendis on Avengers? This Disassembled stuff is crazy.”

“It’s supposed to be. But yeah, Bendis is an odd choice. It’s not terrible though. The art’s nice and the script seems pretty decent.”

Greg rolled his eyes. “The characterization is all off! You ask me, this is just another step towards Marvel replacing their mainstream universe with the ultimate one.”

Todd groaned internally. Greg was obsessed with the idea that Marvel Entertainment was going to replace the universe of characters that had existed since the 1930s and in which the majority of their titles took place with the recently-launched and more accessible Ultimate line. This was in spite of the fact that Marvel’s editorial had claimed this was never going to happen and had never been planned to happen.

“I just hope when it happens, they do it right.”

Todd nodded absently. “Well, they’ll probably do it how they want to. It’s their characters and their universes. But I still don’t think they’re going to.”

Greg half-ignored him. “They better get Grant Morrison back. He’s the only one who could write it.”

“I really don’t think it’s going to happen, Greg. Y’know, you seem so taken with the idea, why don’t you write a fanfic?”

Greg laughed – it was more of a snort, really. “Fanfiction is for losers, Todd.”

Todd shrugged, hoping that Greg would never find that file folder in Todd’s computer labeled ‘Pirates of the Caribbean.’ It contained seven short stories written by Todd featuring Jack Sparrow, Will Turner, and Elizabeth Swan. God, he could never live that down.

The two sat there for half-an-hour, Todd hoping for the moment Greg would look at the watch on his chubby wrist, heave a sigh, slip his comics in his book bag, and leave. Every single second Todd spent with Greg just made him hate Greg a little more. He was so nitpicky, so angry had the medium that he claimed to love so much. Todd had once asked him why he just didn’t stop collecting the books that pissed him off, but Greg snorted/laughed and told him that he was a ‘completist’ – that he needed to have a complete run of Avengers from 200 on up.

At long last, Greg left. Todd sighed and as Greg walked out the door, he pulled out his sketchbook. He was dimly aware of others coming and going from Coffee Haven, but he made himself focus in on the sketch.

“Need some more coffee,” he proclaimed after dismissing a disproportioned arm.

The girl behind the counter was tall and pretty, with her jet-black hair yanked back in a tight ponytail that went through the hole in the back of her ‘Coffee Haven’ baseball cap. He ordered another Café Mocha after a short internal debate as to whether or not he wanted something cheaper.

He was back at it, sketching, moving his pencil with decidedly jerky motions, creating three lines for the forearm – the three lines would later be inked into one. Todd was drawing the hero of his little epic, Barratt, son of Mothran of the kingdom of Benton. After a good fifteen minutes, the sketch was complete and he was satisfied with it, if not bothered by the way the feet looked and the oversized chin.

He worked for the next half-hour, forty-five minutes, sketching two more characters and drawing the Palace of Light. After he finished that, he closed his sketchbook, tossed it in his bag, pulled the strap over his shoulder and walked on out.

Not too much later, Todd returned to the townhouse on Beech Hill. Sitting in the living room was Lorrel, Todd’s roommate and best friend. Lorrel was just a little on the chubby side with very light blonde hair.

The living room was perpetually cluttered. Two huge couches sat on either side of a TV that had at least three game systems, a sound system, and a DVD player hooked up to it. Star Wars posters lined the walls, broken only by a Lord of the Rings poster (much to the agitation of David, their other roommate, who hated the Lord of the Rings movies) and a Super Smash Bros. poster.

“Word up, hommie,” Lorrel greeted in a tone made it so evident that his words were sarcastic.

“Hey,” Todd responded and crashed onto one of the couches. “What are you watching?”

“Some stupid show about rich people. Nothing else on.”

“Gotcha. How’s your stomach?”

“Fine. I’ve recovered well.”

“Good to hear. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you puke so much.”

“Fuck you, man.”

“Haha.”

Lorrel got up. “Ugh. I’ve got class here.”

“Have a blast.”

Lorrel grabbed his back-pack from the end of the couch, grabbed his keys, and headed out. Todd gave the show about two minutes to lock in his interest, then turned off the television, picked up his bag and went downstairs in the hope of creating . . . something.

And the Oscar Goes To . . . It Happened One Night

2008-03-04T07:34:00.000-08:00

With the Uncanny X-Periment winding down and with inspiration from my lovely fiancée (who has decided to watch every single Johnny Depp movie; she’s a little crazy), I’ve decided to launch a new project. In the past year, my fiancée and I have taken an interest in classic movies. This has usually meant a grab bag of films – some good, some not so good. I’ve always had an interest in classic films, but as someone who’s a little older and has taken filmmaking courses (okay, just two or three), I thought it was time to take that interest one step further.

During the Oscars last week, they had a montage of clips from movies that had won for best film. I immediately turned to my lovely dearest and declared “I will watch every single one of these!”

A few days of DVRing later, and I’ve got a couple. I’ll be up-dating when I can. I can’t guarantee when exactly. I also won’t be going in any sort of order. Kinda randomly, though you will of course see that earlier movies will come earlier, I suppose.

Let’s start with . . .

It Happened One Night (1934)

It Happened One Night is a comedy about a New York City rich girl named Ellie Andrews who goes off and marries a man by the name of King Wesley – who her Wall Street Tycoon father absolutely hates. Being tailed by bodyguards and private investigators, Ellie seeks to return to New York via bus (“She would never take the bus!” proclaim the PIs). It’s on this bus she meets the recently fired reporter Peter Warne, who sees Ellie as a story that could get him his job back. Turns out she’s the Paris Hilton of her day.

He befriends and eventually begins to look after her, trying to make sure she makes it back to King Wesley (not a real king) all right and that he has a story to write. As they travel, the pair have various adventures, including an encounter with the annoying Oscar Shapeley; a number of stays at Motor Camps and motels; and hitchhiking. Eventually, as one would guess, Peter and Ellie fall in love with each other. However, when Peter goes into the city to get some money to help him seem like a better prospect, Ellie believes that he has abandoned him and goes back to Wesley. Peter then believes that she dumped him, but with help from her father, the two find each other again.

When I first saw this film, I was really quite surprised that it had won an Oscar for best picture. It’s good, don’t get me wrong. It’s funny, it’s witty, it’s well-acted . . . but I was just surprised. Having never seen its competition, I couldn’t rightly judge it against the other films nominated that year. I watched the movie in total three times and it was this last time that I started to see why it won.

There’s a lot of subtly here. The characters (all of them) are incredibly well defined. Ellie is a rich bitch who claims she’s not spoiled, but she is. We all know she is. Even when she says she’s not, she knows she is. Claudette Colbert brings Ellie to life. How easy would it have been to just shove an actress into the role and say “Hey, you’re going to be a spoiled brat who falls in love with a reporter?” But what Colbert brings to the table is stupendous acting. She makes Ellie cute and well-realized. Flawed, real.

Her male counter-part, Clarke Gable’s Peter Warne, is just as well done. He fills out the role for “kind of a jerk, but kind of desperate” very well. Peter’s creepy, a little manipulative, and arrogant . . . but as we see, the more time he spends with Ellie, the more he’s trying to show off. Trying to impress her. Gable makes it seem like Peter doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. But again, we know it. It’s subtle. Just under the surface.

The direction on the part of the Frank Capra is his usual great standard. He has a great way of making things seem more real than you’d think and has a mastery of the craft – especially back in those days. Capra delivers Robert Biskin’s enjoyable script with energy and all the gusto he can manage.

It’s the four major elements (actress, actor, script, and direction) that brings this movie together. Without these people on this film, it would have been okay. But with them, not only do each deserve their Oscar, but it brings in the big prize.

The Eyes of the World

2008-01-29T08:17:00.001-08:00

The eyes of the world descended upon him as he sat alone in the coffee shop, his face looking down at the plain table vacantly. His very will sapped and sipping a cup of coffee that tasted too bitter. His anger was washed away by tears of sorrow. All around him, life went on and on and there was nothing to connect him to the strangers that chatted and drank coffee. Nothing that he knew of.

And thus, he sat alone. Alone and always alone.

The man with the pain and weight upon his heart.

Good Evening

2008-01-27T18:00:00.000-08:00

Hello there, eWorld. My name is Kevin Woodside and I am a blogger. This is far from my first blog, but it's something quite different from the others I maintain. What other blogs do I maintain? Well, let's go in chronological order here . . .

Since 2003, I've maintained a blurty. A blurty is a lot like LiveJournal, but stripped down and more Emo-tastic. Not that I'm very Emo, but I've come to appreciated it's simplicity. My blurty is where I talk about my personal life -- my problems, my successes, my family, my friends. Yadda yadda yadda. You get the point.

I also have a LiveJournal, which has since been retro-fitted to being a respository for old Fanfiction. He-Man fanfiction, if you can believe that. BELIEVE IT! A nerd, I am.

Furthermore, I have DA Journal (Deviant Art), which I up-date from time to time.

Finally . . . there's the Uncanny X-Periment, in which I have reviewed every single issue of Uncanny X-Men, X-Men, Astonishing X-Men, and X-Treme X-Men (as well as key issues in the X-Franchise). I'm up-dating from a back-log of entries now.

Anyways, so if you're reading this and wondering why in the world I would launch yet another blog, I most certainly have an answer for you.

I'm a writer. I'm not the best writer, but after a long "career" in fanfiction and with the aforementioned Uncanny X-Periment coming up-to-date, I've decided to launch this blog in the hopes of being a little more . . . er, professional? Don't get me wrong, I love my blurty, but at the end of the day, I can't really provide a recap of what I got for Christmas as a legitimate writing sample. If I want to be a writer, I need to show off what I have.

What's the big difference between this and my blurty? Other than what I mentioned all ready, I don't want this blog to be just about me. I want this to be about something more than just how my day was or how awesome St. Patrick's Day was. I want this to count.

Now, again, this isn't discounting any of my other blogs. I'm very proud of the fanfiction I created (and still kinda create, but that's neither here nor there) and I hope that when I'm 80 years old, I still an e-mail telling me how much it was enjoyed.

It's just time for me to sharpen my tools.

This blog will contain random stories. Maybe a serial story, maybe just a snippet, maybe even a webcomic. I may write about religion and politics. I'll probably comment here and there on popular culture. Don't be surprised to find a review of something.

My hope is to up-date this as much as possible. Whether it's just a random idea or an all-out story, it'll be here. With my life as crazy busy as it is, I want to make my writing count. Putting this out there for all of you should hopefully do me some good.

I suppose I should wrap it up. For those of you that have stuck around past the initial 2-5 seconds that it takes a website to hold your interest, I appreciate it and I sincerely hope you return.

I'm certain there's at least one person out there wondering about the name of this blog. I'm not sure if it'll stick, but "Woodsidian" is a term a buddy of mine came up with after I wrote sentimentally about a drunken party. "Filled with the typical Woodsidian sentiment."

So, there's that.