I’m angry — the Bucs just played the worst game I have seen them play since the early 1990′s. Too many penalties, no real fire in them…

12-9 the final. One word: UGLY

I want to
rant about commitment and things like that right now and people’s fear on it
because — well, there’s just some of it around from a few different people
and it’s more of the same in my humble opinion. More of the same that I’ve already
been exposed to but I hadn’t commented on…

I’ll pass
though. I’m just not committed to the idea of going off on that one…

I think
Assignment 3 is done for der Long Ridge. I mean I really think it’s done. It’s
not that I was toiling but as I said in previous entries to this journal – I
was avoiding (there is that wacky lack of commitment thing again! How ironic!).
Though I’m not entirely happy with the story because it seems weak and not provoking
or anything like that – just a report on living as a Bucs fan up until January
of this year (SUPER BOWL CHAMPIONS BABY!!! YAY!!!
) and that makes me sorta depressed because I really like writing stuff with
a hook or that really makes you pissed off…

Writing
should invoke emotions at times… I mean, this journal is a purging of my own
emotions most of the time (and an attempt to get me on the knack of writing
in general for the day) yet there are thoughts and ideas that have been presented
here that might make you say "Yeah, I’ve been through that before."
Or perhaps, "Damn, I can’t imagine what this guy is going through."
That’s still invoking an emotion. What I wrote and will submit to my course
was supposed to invoke more of the feeling of a fan that has suffered through
the hardships and the relation to fans across the nation and around the world
who have suffered for years… Yet it didn’t end up that way.

I still
have to write Lou a
letter… Or more like edit the letter I already wrote to him. No biggie there,
just gotta commit to it instead of zoning out.

Eh, one
last note – I’m pissed off at the online pizza ordering things. They’ve dumped
all their deals and it’s making it harder for me to buy a pie online (which
I used to love to do).

So I was up at an hour that
is between dawn and lunch… I couldn’t tell, it was all such a blur to me that
my "wake up" shower lasted 20 minutes with me mumbling as I scrubbed
and thinking of things and people instead of focusing on my day ahead. Actually
it was quite nice to be up at a sane hour in the morning for a change (even
though I didn’t get to sleep until midnight). I’ve been stuck in this unending
trend of getting up from 10:30 to Noon and having rather unproductive days because
of it.

Well, actually, this day
hasn’t been too productive either so don’t think everything was much better
off with me getting up at a sane hour and being able to term the start of my
day as it truly was – the morning.

SO I went to see Doc Smith
and his merry band of medical matrons who masterly manipulated and mutilated
my moxie by keeping me waiting for an hour after the time I was scheduled to
have my appointment. Of course, Dr. Cahill’s passing was most likely the cause
of things being tied up at TGH, so I’ll forgive them for this.

Unfortunately it’s a lot
harder to forgive my body for what it’s putting me through and putting my doctor
thorough, who isn’t quite certain what the cause of trouble is for me or where
to proceed. And there’s a lot of trouble for me. Even more trouble than I mentioned
to him and trouble that can’t be found on MRI images (well, at least this set
of them).

But all in all, a fight
line is being drawn. Action is going to take place soon enough. The powers are
aligning – some for me, some against. Of course, I have to battle on much as
the poem says. I’ve got too many places to go, things to see, people to do..
It’s such a demanding existence, I tell ya! :-p

I had Keith read my first
rough draft of my Non-Fiction assignment (mind you, there are 5 of them and
I was just trying harder with one) and basically he told me it was crap
Of course he also inspired a re-write that put the story more in the first person
about going through the trials and tribulations of a Bucs fan over the years
and the end result was 920+ words and a much better story. I’ve gone through
it once since I wrote it, will have to go through it again before I get up the
nerve to print this story out and send it to Lou.
Personally, I don’t want to keep doing Non-fiction, I want to learn how to become
more charismatic in my writing (as my last assignment feels cold except through
the story’s twists and turns) and keep on chugging with fiction.

I don’t get it. I honestly don’t fucking get this.

How come an opinionated asshole like myself has written dozens of rants on topics from local roads to Dubya and had them published as letters to the editor in the newspaper, has had thousands of rants (be they sports related and or political related or music related or what) posted on message boards across the Internet, and yet I don’t feel comfortable at all writing out this non fiction assignment?!? UGH!

I mean, you do a search on Google for me + the St. Petersburg Times and the following is just some of what will show up (you’ll have to scroll down for each of these letters most of the time:

Abolish the DH

"Mass
Transit Could work if Counties combined efforts"

"Self Serving Voters"

"What if views had been conservative?"

"We Didn’t Deserve the Olympics"

Scientology and Anti-semitism displayed in St. Pete Times letters section

Elian Gonzales

That’s just a brief glimpse of stuff I’ve ranted about. Plus those who know my journal know full well I have ranted on and on about other things and other concerns of mine in here… I already made mention of that in a recent entry into this journal.

It drives me friggin’ INSANE knowing I can write all these short quips about things that concern me but now that I have to write 1000 words on them I’m shit out of nerve to do it. Someone pinch me, someone cuddle with me and someone re-assure before smacking me and telling me to snap out of it and get with it, that this is no big thing and I’m making a mountain out of a molehill.

First off, a week until my birthday…. Donations and death threats can be sent to the Stonegauge….

Have you ever found your heart just aching for someone you know? Someone who remembers something, or makes a routine joke that they’ve made before… Someone who says something truly sweet to you or someone who admittedly thinks about you all the time….

I never really knew love, mutual love, until now. I can’t give details, I can’t give mug shots, I can’t even tell you why this has happened or how but I can say I’m happy right now…. :smile

And upset at the same time. I will remain vague just because
Rays are finally out of my misery right now. It’s been a long and pathetic season. I joked on www.emailtherays.com that the team is changing it’s name tot he “Groundhog Days” (in honor of Bill Murray’s movie) because they are putrid at every level… over, and over, and over again and never get it right.

Meanwhile, the Bucs kicked ass Sunday