Todays’: Earworm: ~NONE!
Book[RL]: ~Wait For Dusk by Jocelynn Drake
Serial E-Novel: ~Spots the Space Marine-111. Precious Seconds.
Serial E-Novel: ~In My Daydreams-Aug 02 Graduation: Part 25
Today’s Manga: ~Future Diary ~ Ch. 5 -+- -on:
sky7anime.net / http://www.mangafox.com/manga/mirai_nikki/v02/c005
If you’re a manga fan, you probably already know about the big crackdown on scanslations. The funny thing is I’ve bought more manga because of them than I would have without them.
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Emo Alert: I Volunteer 3 times a week. I volunteer on Tuesdays, Wednesdays & Fridays at the Tualatin School House Pantry. The Operations manager is Shirley Johnson. She’s having serious health concerns and there’s nothing I can do for her except pray. I have a hard time with that; when something happens, I want to DO something.
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WebSite Of The Day: http://www.newsoftheweird.com/
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I’ve been asked why so many of the webcomics I read and recommend are about superheroes. There are many reasons, but mainly I think that it’s for the same reason my father watched westerns. In a western, there was a code of conduct, an accountability for your actions and a level of personal responsibility & integrity that was tangible. Good and Evil clearly defined. Some things just aren’t done; aren’t tolerated. A man Is judged by his actions and his intent, not who he knows or what family he comes from. In a similar vein, Good and Evil clearly defined in the Superhero Genre.
A wrong is done and our hero undergoes trial, tribulation and sometimes transformation in order to right that wrong/save lives. The mask is the hero’s greatest weapon. The villain thinks “he could be anybody under that mask! Has he been watching me? Is one of my allies working with him? Are my henchmen who I think they are” It is a Psychological weapon that sows doubt, dissention & fear, while at the same time protecting the Hero’s loved ones from reprisal.
As a Child I learned to read by reading the newspaper’s comics an asking “what’s that word mean”, by reading my brother Leon’s comic books and asking about the story. Good and evil what you value where you place your faith . I am a long time Captain America fan. I have always believed in God & country, even when I thought it was going to get my favorite brother killed in Vietnam. It all comes down to this : A hero is the guy that does a difficult job because it’s the right thing to do; even if it;s hard and the world’s against him. His personal integrity will not allow him to do anything less.
These days, It’s hard to tell who’s a good guy or not this includes me (Did I do the right thing? Was it for the right reason?). It’s not as simple as white hat or black hat anymore. But I wish it was…

Ball Of Confusion (That’s What The World Is Today) by Temptations

Today’s Book[RL]: ~Unchained[The Dark Forgotten - Book 3] by Sharon Ashwood
Today’s Serial E-Novel: ~Tales Of Mu-OT: Son Of A Creature Man
Today’s Serial E-Novel: ~In My Daydreams-: Graduation: Part 18
Today’s Serial E-Novel: ~Spots The Space Marine: 104. Glimmer.
Today’s Manga: ~Bloody Monday Chapter: 46 on

MangaToshokan.com

<a href=’/series/Bloody-Monday id=’banner’ style=’background-image: url(http://static.mangatoshokan.com/images/banners/banner_bloodymonday.jpg)’>

url(http://static.mangatoshokan.com/images/banners/banner_bloodymonday.jpg)’>

<a href=”http://static.mangatoshokan.com/images/banners/banner_bloodymonday.jpg” ONMOUSEOVER=”window.status=’ Plot: A virus deal clinched in Russia on the Christmas eve. Purpose: unknown. Two clues: a mysterious lady “Maya,” who is one of the gangsters, and “Bloody Monday,” the keyword for the project. Then an incident happened in far-distant city of Tokyo. Fujimaru Takagi, a second year student at Mishiro Gakuin high school, is commissioned to find out the truth by the Public Security Intelligence Agency, for his great ability as a super hacker. Now, Maya approaches Fujimaru as his high school teacher… [I'm now on Chapter 46: Enemies On All Sides ~ I'll probably be on this one, then It's sequel for awhile.] ‘;return true;” ONMOUSEOUT=”window.status=”;return true;”>
// ]]>
// ]]>
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WebSite Of The Day: WWW.Roastmyweenie.com
http://www.roastmyweenie.com/Roast_Your_Weenie/Home_files/shapeimage_3.png
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The WebSite Of The Day: From time to time I find odd websites. People tell me about them, those that know I collect info on the strange & unusual. I save them in a file and will post them when I can. The first record((yes record, not album, not CD not DVD, not Mini Disc)yes I am old) is today’s earworm.  I found it true then, and it rings true today.

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Emo Alert:  There comes a time when all you want is to be left alone. Then there are times when you want to embrace all the world. I am one of those rare individuals who can feel both these emotions at the same time. There are times when I Miss my family so much it is an ache that cannot be described. There are also times when I feel that I cannot possibly be worthy of being around the people that are in my life. If ever I lost hold of the seething emotions within me, I feel they would not want to be around me.  Sometimes I feel like a tight rope walker, only instead of being on a rope I’m on the edge of a knife blade.
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WebSite Of The Day: youidiot.org

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Todays’: Earworm: ~NONE!
Book[RL]: ~Storm From The Shadows By David Weber
Serial E-Novel: ~Tales Of Mu-OT: Son Of A Creature Man
Serial E-Novel: ~In My Daydreams-Dupes: Part 4
Today’s Manga: ~Bloody Monday on MangaToshokan.com
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Bloody Monday
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[I'm only on chapter 3 The Christmas Massacre~ I'll probably be on this one , And then It's sequel for the next day or so.]
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I ‘m sorry loyal readers(all three of you) that I haven’t been posting as regularly as I’d been in the past. Trying to find a way to make a larger frame size for the Slide window, my (continually failed) job search, Let-downs and the death of a friend caused me to spiral into depression again [Will someone get this monkey of my back? If you can't, will you at least take away the monkey wrench he's hitting me in the head with??].

Just when you think all is lost and you’re about 80% convinced that you’re better of under the ground instead of above it (shades of john Cusack in Better Off Dead) I get a call from one of the board members for the Transition Home that I ‘m staying at. My eldest daughter, Christina Ruth whom I hadn’t heard from in the past ten years had found me through this blog. Let me elucidate: When I first left San Diego (in disgust at the post O’Connor administrative decisions and the result in had on housing costs) to come to the Portland area, I had a four step “grand plan”.
The Grand Plan: 1. To get hired on at a company or in the school system, based on my past work history. 2. Use the next three years to establish myself/develop a local credit history/Meet VA Loan requirements.(not the standard loan, but one of the VA approved private loans. It’s sort of like a grant, only…Not. There was a waiting list, with conditions. Conditions that I felt that I’d have no trouble at all meeting. [ Unfortunately, I wasn't the only one with a plan, as it turned out. ] 3. Within three years get a house with the loan and bring my eldest two daughters to see me every summer. 4. after accumulating equity, sell or arrange a house exchange with a San Diego/Southern California resident and bring my family back together. No battle plan survives contact with the enemy.
For the first two years, I wrote to my children. A card each or two short letters a week, two ten to twelve page letters a month. They barely received any. So the letters I agonized over trying to always be impartial and fair when I was feeling so very lost and were intercepted. I did not believe My Ex could be that malicious. I didn’t believe anybody could be that malicious. It makes me wonder… How could I miss That part of her character? What else did I miss?
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I wish my schools had all been that cool.

When you think about it it’s all very simple.  All my moments, even when I’ve been alone have been seen by the ultimate witness.  All my moments, the good; the bad; the ridiculous and the sublime, the highest points and the very lowest points in my life have been seen by god.   My need not to be seen”by God & Everybody” with a fuzzy face pales before my need to hear the word and feel the spirit.  We all make choices constantly, often without thinking about them or considering the consequences fully.    Every life is filled with decisions, ones that take you farther and farther from the place you started.  Sometimes it’s good to slow down and consider the gravity of our situations, the magnitude of our accumulated decisions.  For with actions come consequences, sometimes fatal ones.  The Largest (and worst)part of being an adult is having to make the hard decisions.  It’s the price of free will.

Hope's got a point, for a letter, it is extremely stuffy.

When I was little I asked about this too.

So true, so true...

I have no idea where this is going but I .thin that I’ll enjoy the trip. Who knows? You might too..

Kelly Gay ~ The Better Part of Darkness

There wasn’t a time when I didn’t know that story. There wasn’t a time when I didn’t hate that story. It was told over and over throughout my childhood. Born with a deviated septum, and having difficulty breathing, I couldn’t get past the fact that I almost died the day I was born and was deathly afraid of suffocation. Then there were the nightmares. Which weren’t helped by my brother Kevin putting a pillow over my heard because he couldn’t stand me screaming in my sleep. That only did two things, reenforce the nightmare and teach me to scream silently. I began to avoid sleep, forcing my self to stay awake. Eventually, there was no forcing required, as my reluctance to go to sleep and suffer nightmares became the inability to sleep at all. Time and an excessive imagination had done its work(The suffocation dreams began my nightmares, but they were not alone; the nightly news the newspaper, the detective dramas that my family loved to watch all led to nightly dreams of my own death), I was an Insomniac. For almost 36 years the cycle would be Nightmares, 2 to 3 days without sleep, then physical collapse followed by nightmares for 6 to 8 days. Lather, rinse, repeat.

My screen name is BookPirate1 because of the first time I dreamed that wasn’t a nightmare. Due to my slight frame and difficulty breathing I was a sickly child. I was about 61/2 then, and between the wooden model ship on the shelf above my window and having just watched Captain Blood two nights before, in my fevered dreams I saw not my death, but pirates… in space. I don’t think that any of today’s generation who routinely ignore shuttle launches can understand what growing up in the age of the space race meant to “the average American”. Those dreams an a comment the doctor made while he thought I was asleep were all that I can focus on when I think of how sick I was “Poor kid, if this keep up he won’t see 25”. I tried to hold on to those amazing, peaceful dreams of a sailing ship flying through the stars. I made my first attempt at what would become a lifetime habit. I tried to write a book about my dream. A Book about Pirates that was my first. I remind myself each time I use that call sign that there are dreams as well as nightmares. But to me that story , the tale of how I almost died the day I was born. Is forever associated to the chain of events that lead to nightmares and the usual waking nightmare that is childhood. Post flower-child era people don’t get how devastating it is to be unusual, to stand out among your peers and not in a good way.

Thankfully , I no longer suffer from insomnia as I did before. If I wake up in the night now, I can go back to sleep; not stay awake for three days. Too bad I had to almost die to do it. I was working at a place called Windowmasters, on the line assembling a window; hammering the sections into place. I had my mallet in hand, raised above my head, poised for the blow when I fell asleep. A coworker caught me before my head hit the concrete floor. I was so embarrassed. The thought it was drugs. I wanted them to administer a blood testy to show that it was only exhaustion. That incident forced me to do something I was almost dead-set against- Therapy. I survived it , but I didn’t get a t-shirt. And my name has yet to be changed.

Simon R Green ~ Deathstalker War

I have been pestered requested to tell the story of how I got my name. So for the last time I shall tell this tale. Anyone else who wants to know can look it up in the archives. For The record, My name is MARINO EUGENE TILLORY. There wasn’t a time when I didn’t know this story. There wasn’t a time when I didn’t hate this story. I almost died the day I was born. Of the children who survived, (Many people think that miscarriages & stillbirths are a thing of historical novels, but that’s far from the truth even today, in many parts of the world) there ‘s my brother Leon (Arlister Leon Tillory Jr.[12 yrs older than me]) my sister Beverly (Beverly Delaney Tillory .[6 yrs older than me]) and my brother Kevin (James Kevin Tillory .[5 yrs older than me]). You’ll have noticed the pattern, Boy Girl Boy Between stubbornness and the “logical conclusion”, my mother was convinced her next baby would be a girl, who would be named after her. When I was delivered, at first it appeared as if I was another stillbirth and the doctor would be facing a malpractice suit. The doctor was just starting to fill out the Certificate of Dead Birth when a minor miracle occurred. A nurse, charged with the duty of cleaning “the body” exclaimed “Doctor, this baby’s alive!” to which the doctor replied, “Smack that baby!” and so I entered into the world. For his own reasons (Dad could keep a secret, even unto the grave) I received the name Marino Pronounced Mare- In -Oh. Over the years, my name has been mispronounced and mangled in ways beyond belief. I have accumulated a plethora [Translation= More than I can remember] of nicknames for the different groups and places that I have been. There were also a few that I didn’t like, ones that were derogatory or offensive or just plain insane.

I had an In-law who noticed (with excessive zeal) that with additional punctuation, you get this result:

MARY? No! You: GENE! And the re you have It. My name is a pun;my life is a joke.

So you must be asking, “why don’t you just change it, since you don’t like it so much?”, when I was eighteen , I decided to do just that. Unfortunately, I spoke to my mother about what my intentions were. It didn’t go well. I expected that after have listened to me over the years, that she would know and understand how I felt and understand my position, my feelings. Boy, was I wrong. My mother told me a tale of my Paternal grandmother, Emma who she re-named herself for, changing her middle name to her own regret. I sat stunned; Nowhere in that diatribe had there been any consideration for my feelings or for my. long history of torment and pain over being different from my peers. So shocked was I by this massive break from her usual compassionate behavior, that I wasn’t paying attention to her when she begged me not to do it. I vowed that I would not do so as long as she lived. It occurred to me that though my mother had heard me through the years, she hadn’t listened. No mater how much she loves me, she didn’t truly know or care about me or she wouldn’t have made me promise that. I applied at the navy recruiters about nine days later. Things have been strained between us ever since.