New Site Layout

Things aren't dramatically different, but I've sectioned off my Hot for Con statistics into a page I've named The Path to Con.

As for my nightly progress reports, I'll still be doing them complete with pictures. But I will not be weighing in anymore, instead I'll be depending on my weekly Sunday weigh ins which you can find in the Path for Con section. I'm also considering the idea of not posting my food consumption since I've recently been using sparkpeople.com which is so much nicer and more accurate then manually keying it in here on my blog.

If you like knowing what I've been eating every day, then please let me know and I"ll keep it in the progress report. But otherwise I'll just keep my progress reports strictly as blog entries.

Also, I'm carving time to start up my writing. This time for real. I've found that when I'm writing my blog nightly, I still want to write just another 30 or 45 minutes more. This is a prime time to get back on track with writing some things. Space Mage was a fun concept, but I'm not sure I'll be going to it. I'm still thinking of something episodic, but I'm not sold on space.  I'd like to go for something much weirder.

Lets talk about something

There's something going on with me, and I'm unsure what it is, but perhaps the best way to describe it would be motivated. Perhaps I'm kicking my own ass, perhaps I'm punishing myself for neglecting the good and wholesome things in my life, or perhaps I'm just fucking bored. 

It might be the latter.

Everyday for the last two weeks I've worked out, you know exercise, and trust me it is a alien and cruel thing to subject yourself through. The act of moving your legs rapidly while not being chased or moving yourself towards the glowing beacon of the fridge is a strange thing indeed. But I'm doing it, and doing it well (which I think is  song). I'm losing weight, and right off the heels of a break up I've decided to take the post-relationship anxiety and emotional questioning and convert them to a positive data type. 

There are many questions I could ask myself, or things I could blame myself for, and learning from my mistakes is definitely still in the cards but these aren't things I'm focused on. With my birthday being next week, and the entirety of my life in question there's a rush to do something and do it now. What exactly? I don't fucking know, IT man IT! 

With or without friends as a crutch and with or without family backing me I'll be doing amazing things this year.  First on the agenda, get in the best shape of my life. It's not a pipe dream, it's something already being realized. Since dragon con of 2010, I've officially lost 20 pounds. 15 of those pounds were in this last month. In short, this summer I'll be reworking my output while remaining Stiver at the core.

Being considered wasted potential is now making me physically ill. The only remedy is kicking ass. 

And when it comes to kicking ass, this aint my first rodeo. 

Been a minute

I have been largely absent from the internet space as of the last two or three weeks, but do not count me as dead or gone. With this blog, I try to keep my personal life from filtering into what I post because that's just not how I want things to go. I post about the thing on my mind, but they're never too personal and mostly geek in nature. The last three weeks have been a roller coaster of things which have prevented me from logging in, and doing what I love, which is talking geek. On a scale, they wouldn't rate too incredibly high when it comes to personal disaster, especially if you're using Japan as a gauge.

My Stance on Dragons and Werewolves

I'll be honest, not that I'm a liar or anything but so long as you're here and scanning my blog then perhaps I could do my best not to bend the truth. I don't particular like dragons, or werewolves. I dislike dragons more than werewolves, but would cringe at a situation where I'm forced to deal with either one exclusively.

<---more after the break --->

3 Arm Sally

    You have no idea what lengths David Wong will go through to make the world of John Dies at the End fit into reality. I'll be posting my review of the novel, John Dies at the End, somewhere soon, but until then I invite you to their twisted dimension. To appreciate JDatE fully you'll have to, of course, buy the book and read it. Otherwise the website, the band (3 Arm Sally) or anything related to John Cheese (The guy who dies, at the end...sorta) and David Wong (Main character of book, and writer of book, and writer at cracked.com) will be lost to you.

<-- More after the break -->

The Great and Shining Path of the Monster Truck

I haven't kept up on my statement that I would post more, but that's fine, I never promised. But there is that nagging sensation rolling around the back of my head, some call it a conscience, so I will attempt to post more often, perhaps even with more intensity.

I will bring it, even if it has already been provided.

Today starts my first day back in college, and my first real foray into Ackworth land, where the one of many campuses rest. Rest it does, nuzzling its' redneck muzzle right into the butt crack of interstate 75, and it's one of those types of animals, the kind that won't fucking stop sniffing at your crotch until you've locked it in the closet. The specific campus I speak of has three buildings where one of which, whose size is larger than the other two combined, is the mechanic learning center. Yes. Mechanic. Learning. Center.

Sometimes I take a hard look at my life, and wonder what events led to this specific moment, where I stand like a foreign passenger in front of a New York City taxi cab, saying "this is going to hurt" over and over again.  I'd rather not pull at the threads that led me INTO the Mechanic, Learning, Center, but I will say that directions around here are a tainted mess, left behind by otherworldly demonic figures that are only happy when tech junkies like me fall into their soul sapping web of camouflaged hats, stickered deer slaying trucks and chewing tobacco.  I was told I was obviously in the wrong place, and that they had no idea what a VB.NET was, but they could think of some recreational uses for the thing.

Jan. 1st has gone and past by and I have not posted a short story, or web comic. Rest assured, as the Ackworthians do, these are coming. I've added  more projects along with these, a actual play Podcast, and very likely a releasing, chapter by chapter, of my first novel experience. Ink. A editor, well after she edits it I'll official consider her an editor, is combing through  my piles of filth now. I imagine it is  hard to connect my horrible grammar together like some sort of illiterate version of the DaVinci Code. I wish her well, not many come back sane.

In Which Discretion is Optional

The Holidays have always been a mixed bag. On one end you're freed from the shackles of workplace mingling for a precious few days, unhooked from the generic sameness whose rustic claws puncture into your life and root you into complacency. Rejoice, there's something different happening. On other end of this drab and unfurnished corridor, just once you've breached the outer sanction of the parking lot and you've gripped the wheel of your economy sedan which now burns off the fumes of hopes and dreams (of free time and video games), you will feel an icy trickle of watery fear down the back of your neck.

That's because on your alleged 'time off', you will have to spend most of it either driving, or displaying various degrees of exaggerated interest to people you see only once, perhaps twice, a year. I'm not saying this is a bad, or wrong, thing. Only that it is extremely time consuming and on any other day of the year would be considered miserable scenario to force yourself through. But that's what the holidays are for, you spend money, you receive gifts, you talk about stuff you've likely forgotten you care about, and you drive...a lot. The whole experience is done right as you get a chance to get back to work.

I say this as someone whose only in the last few years have held a steady relationship with the same lovely woman. It was so much worse, during those dark 'you might or might not be my girlfriend after this month' times when you're sitting at your girlfriend's family's place and nobody, pets included, are sure whether to invest any real investigative interest in your involvement. No matter how you slice it, you're stuck for hours hearing stories about people you don't know, whom were doing things mildly interesting, a good deal involving drugs or cats, and all the while thinking that if they'd just let you sleep in the car, or in the snow, wrapped in molten lava, on a bed of rusty spikes, the thing would be just a touch more enjoyable.

One day I'll warm up to the idea of an large extended family being the prime hangout spot during my critical rest and relaxation days. Perhaps even next year...

The Man-ification of Man-ly Man-ish Bad-Assery

Bad-ass anti-heroes are my Achilles heel. Ever since Big Trouble in Little China and Die Hard, I've been hooked on one liners and five-o-clock shadows, the never ending ammo clips and the always getting the girl even though it "probably wont work out for a guy like me" romance scenes.

I also blame Alien(s), and Sigourney Weaver, because ever since then I know that above all else there are two things universally true in the world. Space marine, with pulse rifles, are awesome and ladies, operating mech suits, are hot.

Alien 3 and  parts Alien Resurrection are not, and I put this as respectfully as possible, dead to me.

There's just something about kicking down a door, shooting dudes and throwing them through a window, asking questions after the fact, then telling your boss "this is personal" while throwing your badge at them, that has an everlasting appeal to me. Perhaps it's the barbaric and raw man about the whole thing, and a yearn to be just that macho without fear of consequence. Those who know me, know that I'm macho in context, but not content. If given the chance, I'd much rather mount on the wall a blaster rifle mock up then own an actual handgun that...you know...fires actual bullets. I'd love nothing more than to hide a shotgun in my trenchcoat and whip it out (insert penis joke) in a dark alley deploying a spray of justice to undead foes. But that kind of thing is creepy and might get you locked away, depending on where you aim it (dispense second penis joke, that makes it DP)

I'm terrified of shooting myself, accidentally, and having to lie to people in the afterlife about the matter.

For as long as I can remember action movies were my favorite thing and writing or DMing an action plot just comes natural. It's a personal goal of mine to work outside this comfort zone, to push aside the yearn for explosions and chase scenes, and use them sparingly for my future projects. We will see how that works out.

In Which a Change of Pace Occurs

The pacing of my blog has been less than acceptable. Though I believe I've capture the culprit and, after an extremely high intimidation check,  have hammered out a solution which should net positive results.

I will attempt to use blogspot, because the cloud is where I belong. While I'm not the biggest fan of using iframe, this website within a website will have to do the trick until something else is hammered out.

Expect more, more often. As I will supply it. Because I keet it real. I think.