For the rest of us!



Feel free to air general grevances below. Please be aware that any grevances aimed at me will be answered with grevances of my own aimed at YOU!

MY GREVANCE: What the hell is up with the continued shit job market?
ANOTHER ONE: What the hell is up with needing a MASTERS OF LIBRARY SCIENCE to be a friggin Elementary school librarian? That blows and is unnessisary.

Also, my feat of strenght today was that I put the new water bottle on the fountain in the kitchen.

Hey, thanks to all the some thirty folk who sent me well wishes for my birthday! I didn’t know I KNEW that many people, and usually my birthdays are all quiet and the like aside from me grousing because of the impending holiday.

I was in a funk last week worrying about the birthday, arbitrary number or not, and you guys helped me realize how many cool good people I have in my life. Kindest regards for that.

Only one regret… I went to get albacore tuna, my fondest desire, and apparently it has a SEASON. A SEASON? Wha? You mean culinary animals with mating rituals based around lunar cycles aren’t available to purchase immediately? Well, I would have glowed in the dark from mercury anyway, so I found some really, really great New York sausages from Newman’s Fish (a place I found over the summer) and Kristen made me the best damned spaghetti EVER. So then, everything is perfect. I even have some ice cream for later.

I don’t think I’m growing mature, but in retrospect this has been a year of realizations for me of how and why I want to live my life, and yeah, you can be cynical and say a bunch of people on facebook wishing you well is a shot in the electric dark, but to me it means that I’m crawling out from a lot of youth and travail with a group of folks, which is all you can really want in life next to a book contract and good spaghetti.

Living in hope has been grand.

The twenties were all about believing I was going to shoot off like a rocket and dealing with the reality (I’m now grateful for) that life doesn’t work that way. Arrogance and any kind of success after a life of working as hard as I did would have burned me out. Much better, I think, to achieve a minor success doing exactly what I believe in, and eventually find the people to support it and surround myself with them.

Kristen especially. This song makes me happy I’m with her, and expresses pretty well what I think of her. Jesus, she’s waiting quite a while on this lump of coal.

Accourse, the song is supposed to be about Elvis and Entwistle, so what do I know anyway.

Automatically cross-posted from NealBailey.net

Another unfortunate byproduct of having a birthday on December 22 is the way you seem to always get sick. For some reason, seeing people plus less daylight plus this time of the year equals waking up with raging puking.

Bah, he said. Wasn't that bad. At least my head is clear. I can puke all day if I have a clear head. Makes me a great applicant for the new Jackass crew, should they form one. If I only had any temerity, I could be a proper anorexic.

I think I will creep down the stairs and continue to read Julius Caesar. When I read it in my Catholic high school I was much more sympathetic to Caesar and thought the guy shouldn't have been killed.

Now I'm much more sympathetic to Brutus, and also think the guy shouldn't have been killed. But then, I've now dealt with a Caesar. Trust me, much worse than a "czar."

Today I woke up to more birthday wishes than I've ever had in my life. That's very astonishing, given that it's usually a very quiet, subdued affair, no matter how much I poke or joke. I thank you all for your kind words. I went into this decade bitching and moaning about the number. I will probably do the same at forty, not for fear of being old (God, too much immaturity in me for that) but because, as some of you may know, I don't want to grow old. I like being young. It's really that simple. I'm not talking looks, shit, I could be playing soccer with my jowls and I'd be like, "LOOK! It is I, the Pele of jowls! Mucho gusto!". I just like being able to walk around without pain.

Good day, folks, and thanks again.

I am turning thirty in one half of one hour.

I made the choice in my life to be a writer. Here is what happens as a result of that choice, in 29 more minutes:

Of course, old age also has its dementia consequences. This was me trying to figure out how to keep Kristen from talking my Spanish decoder ring:

Adieu, fair youth, adieu!

Soon, all I will be is an old man, babbling, trying to hold on to what he once was…

The only thing that will not age, over time, I am convinced, is my sense of humor.

It’s been the same for 17 years, so it can’t even drink yet.

Now, for bonus points, play all of the videos a the same time. GO!

Automatically cross-posted from NealBailey.net

I hate when people post about temperature on Facebook and such. Listen, I'm sorry to hear that you're too hot or cold, but, uh, why do I have to hear about it? So if you want to skip this entry, please do so.


It is far too hot in this country. It's a dry heat, sure, but it's a gruelling, arduous, still heat that just sits on you like a hairy dog blanket. It's a heat that makes me irritable with my dearest friends and makes me sleep by 8:30 pm. I keep getting in a cold shower, then standing in front of the fan, but that only works for about five minutes. My car's aircon is broken, which doesn't help, I have no access to anywhere that's not hot. Even the supermarkets don't really have a/c. It's just hot. My hair gets frizzy, the dogs lie around ignoring the flies crawling on them, yet the sky stays cruelly blue. There are some storm clouds way off over the hills, but I hold scant hope of them giving any relief.

The weather channel says it's 33C/91F here. I don't buy it. It's got to be at least 10 degrees hotter. the heat is supposed to break tomorrow, though, thank goodness. About time.

I went white water rafting this morning, down the Crocodile river. Lovely morning out with friends, I forgot how much fun that can be. The rapids are pretty little, especially as the river is so low right now - we haven't had rain in a while now. It was just a very pleasant paddle down a wildish stretch of the Crocodile, the water felt delicious, and the sunshine felt good. I might have to stumble down the hill in a bit and fall back into the river...

Okay, nine hours of editing, the script is completely reformatted, edited down, and I think… I THINK…. in the can.

One more read-through, and it’s set, I do believe. I can do that leisurely tomorrow.

Sex in Trade done been traded.

Automatically cross-posted from NealBailey.net

project!

My current list of songs:

rosindust: Butthole Surfers - The Shah Sleeps In Lee Harvey’s Grave
shumashi: The Clash - Rudy Can’t Fail
lordjulius: Gregorian Chant - Victimae Paschali Laudes
ScottyV: John Williams - Superman Theme
TrinaS: Moondance (no specific artist mentioned)
Zarobi: INXS - Need You Tonight
traceracer: The Replacements: Achin’ to be
Basia: XTC - Senses Working Overtime
NathanF: Russ Childers - (Stop) Kickin’ My Dog Around
TinaT: 2Live Crew - Back at Your A$$ For The Nine-4 (I hope I’m interpreting the title correctly!)
Carneggy: The Magic Number (no specific artist mentioned)

Some interesting choices there. I haven’t heard most of ‘em, so I’ll have to go digging around the intartubes to get a hold of the songs.

But keep giving me songs! And, Z, fuck you.

Originally posted at Phoenix Rising.

Neal tired. Neal did much editing. Neal changed the entire script format, culled even more dialogue, and is at peace with the form, to a degree, at least.

Sadly, Neal has one more day until he’s supposed to take a week and a half off, so he may be:

As it stands, though, I feel relatively confident I may succeed. And if not, hey, what the hell, I’ll work on.

I learned so much from this script, it feels rad.

Automatically cross-posted from NealBailey.net

There is something very fun about discovering a new medium and a new way of coming at my craft. I’ve written some forty comic scripts (I think seven have been drawn), but something always jumps out to nip you in the ass and say, “Hey, you don’t know all you think you know.”

I can academically look at a script and know that pictures drive a comic, and that the words should be minimal, but the decisive factor of how minimal is a matter of both taste and subjective judgment, and I haven’t fully formed that judgment yet. I study scripts from professionals, I look at what works in a comic and what doesn’t.

Bendis, for example, has a ton of dialogue. Others have small dialogue, but many panels. Others have few panels and medium dialogue. I’ve been looking at them all, particularly the ones I admire.

Past Lies, Whiteout, Queen and Country (less mystery, yes, but usually with an element of intrigue), Criminal. They all come at it from different angles.

Hal is a jabber-jaw, which is a real pain in the ass when trying to cull it down. I have spent most of this third draft taking down the dialogue. It quite literally went from 163 pages to 143, I think it is now.

My novels were coming up short on word count because I edit so hard, so I spent a lot of effort learning how to make my character express himself more, how to elaborate on surroundings more, and now I turn around into a minimalism on beyond levels I’ve experienced.

It’s fun, if scary. I’m still working at it.

I thought I was going to be done tonight, but now I realize I need to pop in at least a few more drafts. I’ll probably finish just in time to turn thirty. Wootah.

Automatically cross-posted from NealBailey.net

OK, now that I have a camera on my phone that isn’t horrible, I have a project for myself, which YOU can help with! Give me a song title, and I’ll take a picture that is in SOME way associated with that song. I don’t care what the song title is, and you’ll just have to trust that I’m making SOME association. My goal is to do one a day, and I’ll post links to the photos as I take them and upload ‘em. And, I don’t promise they’ll be any good either. But it may be interesting all the same.

Crossposting this to Facebook to generate more song titles, too.

Originally posted at Phoenix Rising.

Thank you for keeping your uncle's dream alive. Thank you for fighting for hand drawn animation and ushering in the Disney Renaissance. You will be missed. Meantime, you get to enjoy that awesome theme park I'm sure Uncle Walt has built by now.

I got word last night that I have use of this baby for my Christmas trip with my sister to Mozambique...



No, not the Lion! The picture was taken by a former client. I'm referring to the lovely Cessna 206 in the background. All 300 horses of her, more than enough to carry what we need. Meaning, wine. The prices in the lodges are often absolutely exorbitant. Her boyfriend is coming too, so having the extra carrying capacity is quite a relief.

We have four nights on the mainland, in Vilanculos. I chose a less expensive lodge, so if the weather is kak, we can stay on the ground and save the stress over losing so much money. Then we have three nights on Bazaruto Island in a lovely lodge. I've been to Benguerra Island before, just off the coast. The entry is here, and the photos are here. It's untouched. You won't find a McDonalds, hell, you won't find a shop on those islands. The dirt runway takes up half of most of them, and you have to do a super short field landing. Benguerra Island has a car on it, I think Bazaruto has a few, but probably less than five.

Time to focus on the positive. A little airplane, sunshine all around, tropical paradise, and being with my sister. Actually, what's hard to focus on there?

Can't believe I got the 206 to fly there. Lucky lucky me! I just need my DAMN LICENSE NOW! This week. I hope to be able to test for my multi, too. I lucked out and got my favorite ever examiner, the one who made my Caravan rating so much fun that my sides hurt from laughing afterwards. I'll just be very relieved to be licensed again...

I rarely post about what I deem 'personal issues' - my marriage, my family, the loss of my mother, and so on. I just kind of feel that that's not stuff I want everyone to know, and there are a few people who I know read this blog who I'd rather not give too much information to. But I'm so full of emotion and it has to go somewhere.

I was flicking through my friends page this morning and I saw that technoshaman had posted this link for me. Cool, let's check it out. It's amusing at first, an a capella group singing Christmas carols and generally confusing them or changing them. Then it goes into Toto's Africa, sung as a Christmas tune - "I had Christmas down in Africa..." and bam. It hit me. A wall of tears and grief and longing.

It happened before, my first Christmas down here. I was in a mall doing holiday shopping, heard Christmas carols, and lost it entirely. My mother and sister were coming for Christmas that year, I was so excited. but...but..it's summer down here. Hot. Not Christmas at all. Which is funny, because I spent most of my Christmases growing up in tropical climes - instead of buying presents, my entire extended family went to the Caribbean together. Christmas was about bathing suits and sand and sunshine.

But suddenly, bright winter days and warm fires are running through my head, hot cider and the smell of a real Christmas tree. Vermont, Boston, Newton, London - I'm pining for my family and my childhood and all of my homes and my dead parents and everything else that I've lost, and my heart wants to explode in grief. I don't think it's about weather as much as mourning for my lost life. The beautiful veldt suddenly looks hardbitten and unforgiving, and home seems very far away, as much as this place is undoubtedly my home.

It's fine and good to go forth and adventure and fly across the world and be a bush pilot in Zambia. But everything has a price tag in life. I know and accept this price tag, and many of my readers who are also expats will be able to know exactly how that feels. It's a weird feeling, your home not being home, and the place you grew up also being a foreign country. It creeps up on you and suddenly, you're in the middle of the supermarket in torrents of tears when a song comes on the muzak.

If I hear "I'll be home for Christmas" anywhere, I am so not responsible for my actions...

I think it's time for my favourite LJ game, the year in review. Post the first sentence of your first entry of each month in 2009. I like this; it's good to look back and assess your past year in terms of what you've been saying and doing.

January: I'm off to Thailand - catch you on the other side.
February: I'm starting to get annoyed with cab drivers. (in Maun)
March: If one thing can be said about Africans, it's that they're damn inventive. (helping the Sitholes build a house)
April: I think my default userpic is very appropriate here. (losing my mind going back to London)
May: The week's delay is really putting me on edge. (Departing for the ferry flight)
June: This beautiful video shows one of little SAAM's new owners in a rented plane, a bit bigger then our plane is, but same deal.
July: I'm sitting on the back porch of my grandmother's old red farmhouse in Vermont. (trip to the states)
August: I saw a big male giraffe on our reserve this morning. (living in the Oori)
September: You're reading the blog of a criminal. (having fun in Zambia)
October: I went to go ride today and ended up jostling through the veldt, all right...in the back of the bakkie...looking for our stolen saddles.
November: I went last night to the year end ball of the South African Lipizzaners, the only riding school in the world to be affiliated with the famous Spanish Riding School in Vienna.
December: Too much free time and a tolerant little dog is a pretty scary combo - and yes, I'm just totally ripping off Dooce. (dog photos)

See, come to think of it, it's been a big year for me. I went to Thailand with my sister, spent a month job hunting in Maun, moved back to London, ferried a little plane across the planet, went to America to see my family, moved back to South Africa, moved to Zambia and got my first flying job, lost my job, and decided to settle in South Africa on a more or less permanent basis.

It's been a tough year in many ways, the not knowing where I'd be, the endless begging for jobs, the stress and fatigue of so much travel, and of course, the split with my husband has made this year - exhausting. My passport is a year and 2 months old and it has a total of 51 stamps. Most of it was work related, but still. That's a symptom of a restless mind and a wanderer. Itchy feet, maybe, or just no idea where I live. I'm a foreigner in every country, including the one I was born in.

In 2010, I want:
A job. That I love. Please.

Thank you, Disney, for using that which you have aquired full rights for. Thank you, Jim Henson, for making such awesome characters. Thank you, Puppeteers, for being awesome.

Go subscribe to MuppetsStudio, guys, tis awesome.

Talking Heads had it right. Songs about building and food. It is not saying a simple thing in a complex way, it’s a complex thing in a simple way… and this is pretty damned sweet when you’re down:

Automatically cross-posted from NealBailey.net

…is done.

At least the rough draft. Now, to edit…

Automatically cross-posted from NealBailey.net