Dreaming of Korea

I had a dream I went back to Korea for a photography job. I met up with a flickr friend of mine (who was writing a story for his newspaper) and we took a trip to back to Uijeongbu which is north of Seoul. We rode in a blue van. On the way to Uijeongbu, we took a detour off of highway 1 into a very green valley. In this green valley was what seemed like the entire Korean Army. There were missiles and bombs everywhere. The van stopped and so a my flickr friend and I decided to get out and mingle with the Korean soldiers to find out what was going on. I came across Korean soldiers wearing tan uniforms that had very white skin, blue eyes, and blonde hair. If it wasn't for their features, their somewhat round faces, typical almond shaped eyes, I would have mistaken them for white men. I asked them if they wouldn't mind if I took pictures of them and they allowed me to.

After we left the camp we drove through some mountains on a windy road and stopped just before we disappeared around a bend overlooking the valley and the Korean Army. I got out of the van and took a couple of pictures and came across single family homes. They looked like the very homes they are building all around the Antelope Valley in California. The neighborhood was quite exept for a young boy practicing his soccer moves. My friend and I got out of the van and walked over to one of the houses and looked inside. The house was empty. I turned around to take a picture of the row of houses. I then tried to take a picture of the boy. He looked me and scowled and kicked his soccar ball voilently in my direction and the ball went so high up in the sky it looked like it disappeared into the heavens. But the ball came back to earth and bounced into the backyard of the house I was standing in front of.

Then I decided to leave and when I went back to the van it was already running and it was parked in the middle of the street. In front of the van, was another vehicle with a Korean man in the driver's seat. He was smoking a cigarette and looking out his rear view mirror at me. He was staring at me and when I made eye contact with him, he frowned and threw his cigarette into the street.

I got into the van and drove down the hill to a busy street. I stopped at a red light and all the Koreans in their cars we looking at me and frowning at me and pointing their fingers. I was so scared.

Then I woke up. It wasn't the best dream. What bothered me the most about the dream was how large the Army was and that they had soldiers that could have almost passed for white men. On top of that all the bombs and missiles. And then the hatred I felt when they looked at me. I hope this isn't a dream something bad is going to happen over there.

My Word Bank

I got an idea to create a word bank (look to the right under my profile pic) for my JaNoWriMo project from a newsletter I received from Writopia. During the next month, I will be posting a word count for the days I write. Hopefully I will resist the urge to blog and surf the blogosphere. If I find myself surfing and not writing, well then I will only post a word count once a week. On highly productive days, I will reward myself by visiting my favorite blogs, checking my email, and stuffing my face.

For those of you with a book that needs finishing, you should give JaNoWriMo a try. Even if you don't make the 50,000 words by January 31, you'd still be much closer to finish than by not participating. Plus, I could use the company.

JaNoWriMo

I only have two more days until I start writing my novel. I still haven't outlined it. I'm screwed. This makes me wonder how professional writers keep turning out books year after year. Do they outline at all or do they just sit at the computer typing whatever story comes to mind?

I've been meaning to sit at the dining room table and just type until my fingers ache. Unfortunately, I know I wouldn't get anything done. I'm too easily distracted. I've tried writing in coffee shops and libraries, but I'm not able to stay focused.

As far as outlining goes, I've come up with a ton of ideas when I have no pen or paper or computer to jot them down.

This reminds me of the time I had to write a screenplay for my screenwriting class. I couldn't for the life of me get anything done when I sat at my computer to type. But let me be in my other classes or at work and the characters, scenes, etc would start coming to life in my head. I wrote most of that screenplay in my American History class. I got 20 pages of a screenplay out of the way one day. I really impressed the instructor because he thought I was feverishly taking notes.

I figure with about three hours of hard core writing after work and 4 to 8 hours of writing on the weekends I should be able to get 50,000 words by January 31. I can do it. It's only about 1,700 words a day. I can do that. A piece of cake. I can do it.

My Birthday

In 1 hour and 30 minutes, my birthday will be over.

This morning I woke up and went to the grocery store to buy some stuff for the oyster dressing. I spend three hours making the dressing. After that, I did nothing exept watch tv. One of my favorite movies came on (Pleasantville). And that's it. That's what my birthday was like.

I don't celebrate my birthday because no one remembers it. I barely remember it. Sad huh?

Merry Christmas!

I'm Lazy Okay

I go through periods where I like to change up my normal routine. That's why I neglected my blog for a week.

I actually had some great stuff to blog about. Like last Thursday, I went out with Dilbert. It was an okay date. I managed to avoid choking on his tongue. Ha ha ha.

We went to a Japanese restaurant. I love Japanese food, especially sushi. In fact, I prefer the sushi bar. I even told Dilbert this on our first date which was at a different and much better Japanese restaurant.

Dilbert doesn't like sushi, so of course he thought this restaurant was the shiz-nitz because it lacked a sushi bar.

The food was actually good. I ordered some kind of combo meal with teriyaki beef and chicken, shrimp and vegetable tempura, three pieces of sushi (2 tuna, 1 halibut), and three pieces of tuna sashimi.

After the meal we decided to skip the movie we had planned on seeing so he drove me home. We sat in his car listening to the radio. It was kind of awkward. Dilbert suggested I talk to him so I started talking about all the construction going on in the neighborhood. Dilbert interupts me mid-sentence with a really bad joke and started giggling like a bitch. When he was done I continued where I left off and he interupted me again with another joke and more bitch giggles. What the...? I tried to continue talking but apparently what I had say wasn't interesting or important-I don't know. I just thought it was annoying so I stopped talking and just sat there. After sitting there for another two minutes I told him I needed to sleep.

Dilbert moved his face within inches of mine and asked me for a kiss. I asked him if it was okay if I gave him a kiss on the cheek. He said, "Sure." *exhale*

I gave him a kiss on the cheek and he ruined it. RUINED IT!!!!!!!! He just had to sneak a kiss on my cheek. I didn't want his lips touching me.

Why Venting is Good for Ya

After having my bitch fit, I found that computer software. I'd tell you where I hid it, but of course the person that stole my laptop probably reads my blog. I had it bookmarked in MY FAVORITES on the Sony. Isn't that peachy?

Now, lets get to my lovelife. It's nonexistent. I am, however, suppose to go out with Dilbert tomorrow night. I think I will pay this time. I don't feel like choking on his tongue.

In the past, I was usually the one that paid for the entire date when I went out with a guy. I know I'm shaking my head too. You'd think a guy would pay if he was the one that asked.

I didn't mind though. It put me in control of how the date was going to end. "You've got to be kidding. I know you don't think you're gonna to get some nookie?"

Which brings me to Dilbert. After our first date, I kissed him because I felt obligated. He did treat me to a wonderful Japanese dinner. And he really wanted to kiss me. I, of course, just wanted to give him a hug and send him on his way.

Why do some guys think they're entitled to desert and why do some females feel obligated to give it?

Sex is completely out of the question. I'm celibate. No sex for me. In fact, that's why I don't shave my legs or my arm pits, and sometimes my bush (though I have to trim that ever so often). Guaranteed man repellent.

Here's an interesting fact, hairy people have more testosterone, and testosterone is what controls sex drive. So the hairier the person, the hornier they are. Hairy=Horny.

It's That Time of Year. Burglaries Are on the Rise

Someone that works in my department told me 11 houses in her neighborhood had been broken into in the last month, including hers.

Boy am I paranoid. I've paranoid since January when it happened to me. I keep going over and over in my head how I could have done things differently. Like:

1. I shouldn't have been so comfortable in my own home.
2. I shouldn't have left my laptop out where it could be seen.
3. I should have put all of my music cds in their cases instead of leaving them in the 200-capacity leather cd cases. Those cases made it so easy for the thieves to walk away with a 15-year collection of music. That's about 300 cds folks. And they only took two of my leather cases.
4. I should have kept my digital camcorder in the box downstairs. (I had just gotten back from 18 month tour in Korea and hadn't had the chance to unpack.)
5. I should have archived the pics/files on my harddrive and stored the mini dv tapes with footage of my grandmother when she was alive, someplace other than in the camcorder bag.

But it's not the material things they took that disturbs me so. It's fact that someone I don't know invited themselves into a my place. They went through my underwear drawer, they went through hundreds of photographs of me and my friends and family. They know my name, what I look like, they know what movies I like, what kind of clothes I wear and I know NOTHING about them. Nada. Zilch. Zero.

And because of this, I stressing over where I hid some really expensive software. That's what I do now. I hide things. I hide things and I forget where I put them. I wish I had emailed myself about these hiding places. Because they're really good hiding places. I can't find them because I can't remember where they are. I can't find things because I hide them and I can't remember where I hide them because I'm stressed out over the fact that I can't live comfortably in my own home. Urgh!!!!!!!!!

January Novel Writing Month (JaNoWriMo)

I don't have much time before January. I still haven't outlined my novel. I actually haven't thought much about it. 50,000 words. I can do it. I just have to refrain from hopping on the internet and doing things that keep me from actually writing.

Okay, I'm very intimidated about the 50,000 words. I can't find the motivation to write 100 words for a my blog. That's one reason why I don't post everyday. The sad thing is, I actually have stuff to blog about. I'm just to busy reading other blogs that I end up not writing in my own.

Which reminds me of this dream I had where this serial killer was trying to kill me. He was dresssed in black and wore a mask. If I'm not mistaken, it was the same serial killer that was in that show Nip Tuck that went around slicing on women's faces. Now the strange thing is, I somehow turned out to be pursuing the serial killer. I chased him into this neighborhood of cookie cutter houses. The houses were really colorful. The serial killer ran across the lawn of a corner house and dropped his wallet. I pick up the wallet and looked inside. He had three different forms of identification: a driver's license, a student i.d. card, and something else (sorry, I can't remember). He also had two winning lottery tickets. The only thing I can remember about the lottery tickets is that the numbers all had fives in them; 15, 25, 35, 45, 50, 65.....

Now my coworkers thought it was strange that I was not disturbed by the fact that I had a dream about a serial killer trying to kill me and that I was more excited about the lottery numbers. I think it's strange too especially since I've been paranoid of stalkers for the last year.

I've written before that I will probably write a thriller about a burglar that becomes obsessed about a women he stole from. After my home was burglarized back in January, I had an awful dream about someone stalking me. The thieves stole my laptop that had all my pictures, music, blog entries, screenplays, and short stories stored on it. I mean my laptop had everything that was important to and about me on it, including a picture of my ass!!!! (Oh please don't let that picture turn up on the web.)

50,000 words. I can do it.

Harry Potter Saved Me from the Sounds a Tongue Thrusher

I absolutely hate being in the presence of a tongue thrusher when they are eating. They eat with their mouths open, which means that not only can you see their food, but their lip smacking is unbearably loud.

My mother is a tongue thrusher. I will usually leave the room if there's no background noise to cover the sound of her lip smacking but luckily Harry Potter was on tv tonight so I had a distraction.

I Was Wrong

Nik didn't win. Congrats Nicole. I knew Nicole won before they even said her name. She had that cover girl look. So did Nik, but Nicole's look was a little more.

I've been trying to post comments but I'm unable to. I hate that. When I click on post a comment, I should be able to post a comment. Darn blogger.

I've been thinking about my book I'm going to write next month. I thought about writing a thriller about a burglar who becomes obsessed with a women he stole from. Or I could write a memoir about myself. I'm leaning toward the thriller. A memoir about my life doesn't interest even me. Besides, that's what my blog is for and, as you can see, I don't have much going on. What do you think?

---------UPDATE---------
I finally figured out what was wrong with blogger. My blog needed me to post something before leaving my mark in the comments section of other blogs.

The Things Men Go Through For a Piece of Arse

I read an article in one of those stupid gossip magazines about Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt's trip to Washington D.C. There was nothing particularly interesting about it. I only read it because I was hoping to catch a glimpse of Brad toting one of the kids. He's so hot when he has a child in his arms. There was a picture of him sitting with congressmen. Apparently, Brad is some kind of ambassador for something called D.A.T.A.

Brad's skin was really pale and he had the biggest, reddest bags under his eyes. Hardly the hunk of burning love I'm used to seeing.

Angelina, on the other hand, looked radiant in the pictures that accompanied the article. (I have to give major compliments on her 4 1/2 inch, tan, leather pumps. They were to die for.)

I generally don't like to talk about celebrities in my blog because for one, it's called Shavonne's World, and two, I don't like to give them free publicity. But Brad looked like poo.

Which leads me to why I'm writing this. Did Brad's interest in ending world hunger and poverty something he's always wanted to do or is it a way for him to get in Angelina's good graces? Just how far is a man willing to go to get a piece of Angelina's arse?

Bad Habits Revisited

I've started biting my nails again. Three of my ten nails are completely bitten down to the nail bed. I've managed to keep nibbling on just those three but it's getting increasingly difficult to keep from biting the rest.

It would have been a year since I quit biting my nails but the holidays are really stressing me out. I can't seem to avoid it. Everyone expects me to be happy about it and to participate in Christmas activities. I'm bombarded with it at work, when I come home, etc. I'm so stinking tired of it. I so wish I had made plans to take a trip somewhere outside the U.S. for the entire month of December.

Next year it's on. I plan on spending the holiday season on the beaches of Brazil or someplace where I won't have to hear people bitch about Christmas Trees, Festivus Poles, and the Merry Christmas vs. Happy Holiday bullshit. F@ck Christmas!!!

Movies

I went to see Rent and the new Harry Potter movie yesterday. I don't know what to think about Rent. There was a whole lot of AIDS, intravenous drugs, and homosexual stuff. I wasn't expecting it at all. I thought it was going to be a movie about people bitching about the cost of living. Well, I guess it was a movie about bitching about the cost of living-with AIDS. Maybe I should go see it again. Sometimes I don't absord a movie's implicit meaning the first time I see it.

As for Harry Potter, I didn't like it as much as the first movie. Of course, I'm not the biggest Harry Potter fan. In fact, I've avoided reading the books and watching the movies because of the kid factor. I'm not very good with kids. I wasn't good with kids when I was a kid. Nonetheless, I had to see what the hype was all about. I mean I knew people that were skipping work and taking their kids out of school just to see the movie opening day. I've never gone as far as skipping work for a movie or taking my kids out of school, because, you know, I don't have kids, but I have rushed to the movies after work just to see a movie.

It was Serenity. A movie had been dying to see for the longest time because I'm a huge Joss Whedon fan. I discovered the characters from the show Firefly. A fellow blogger, a huge fan of Buffy, bought the Firefly series and gave it rave reviews.

I was hoping the movie would spark a new interest in Firefly. But I guess not. Too bad Joss wasn't able to sell the show to Sci-Fi. It would be great to see some of the best characters brought back to life on the small screen.