fuzzy little

I woke up this morning, put on some slacks, put on a sweater, and toddled off to work. There I was at my desk, minding my own business, when I suddenly noticed something white and fuzzy poking out of my sleeve.

Naturally, being curious, I investigated. I have no idea what I thought it might be, and anyway, whatever I might have thought, I would have been wrong. It was a sock, folks. A small, fuzzy, white ankle sock, living in my left sleeve. One of mine, to be specific. So now here I am at work with one extra fuzzy little white sock, and there's really no place to put it except on my desk. Every so often one of the purple monkeys wanders by and wants to know why I have a fuzzy little white sock on my desk. After I explain it to him, he'll nod solemnly and wander away, and then come back with other purple monkeys so I can explain to those purple monkeys why I have a fuzzy little white sock on my desk.

Somehow, even though honesty is a self-destructive religious imperative for me when dealing with customers, to the point my company would much rather I not actually talk to our customers, ever, I seem to have no compunction about telling the most outrageous falsehoods to the purple monkeys.

I told the last monkey that that I was building a nest out of socks under my desk in order to incubate my spawn. I told the one before that that it had just fallen off my leg. I'm planning to tell the next monkey the sock is all that's left of the last monkey who bothered me. I think the real reason the monkeys keep coming back is that they just want to see what I'll come up with next.

I'm thinking of going to Costco to buy bananas. If I shove one in the fuzzy little white sock, I might be able to pawn it off on one of them.

The Nanowrimo project is going steadily, leaving me at 15,117 words as of last night, which is 117 words above my original goal for the weekend. Two years ago at this time, I was only at 6,500.

Go, me. On the one hand, this is proof that I actually have 15000 words in me, only 35,000 words away from the final winning count of 50,000. That all these words are perfectly good there can be no doubt; I ran a spellcheck which confirmed the validity of all of them, with the one dubious exception of "Anthropomorphication." The arrangement of the words might not be of such high quality, true, but that's not really my problem at this phase of the game.

The chief problem so far -- you all don't mind if I talk about this here, do you? -- the chief problem appears to be my inability to get to the point, an affliction that seems to have infected my main character. 15,000 words in, my main character has yet to do or say anything really interesting. Mostly, he's content to sit in his office, read Neil Gaiman novels, and not be bothered.

This is projection of no small order, and something must be done. I do, after all, have a plot in mind, which thus far has utterly failed to impress my main character. Drastic measures are called for. I'm thinking of killing him off. That'll show him.

Or maybe I'll find another author.

It's worthwhile to note that the novel in development is not humorous, save unintentionally. Despite all my disclaimers, my sister -- for one -- seems to find it inconceivable that I would actually waste 50,000 words on something not laugh-worthy. Of course, the truth is that the novel actually is laugh-worthy, again in a purely accidental fashion. Someday I fully expect to go back over what I've written and snicker, which seems to me the only way to deal with . . . well, the moose manure I've been churning out.

But that's a joy for a different day. In the meantime, I have a main character who could possibly be the final panacea for insomnia.

As of this morning, I've written a little over 500,000 words in this journal since its reincarnation as Faulty Vision. I wonder if I can count those?

For those of you who are truly, and I do mean truly interested, I'm throwing up the chapters as I complete them, but they're tedious reading so I don't recommend it. If you want the URL, just drop me a line and I'll forward it to you.

Honestly, though, I wouldn't if I were you. If you're really that bored, there's this neat trick you can do with your eyeball and an awl....

Another report from my sister, whose punctuation seems to be getting a little less alternative. I suspect this means she has finally started getting used to South American keyboards. Either that, or she's finally learning how to type.

Although not, mind you, how to spell....

nicaragua is by far the most increadible country i have ever had the honor to visit! earlier this last week we went to isla omotepe (the largest freshwater island in the world -the lake is home to the only freshwater sharks too.) with a stray french girl we found in granada. she was so pleasent and fun that we ignored the fact that she was french.

a popular place to go hiking, the island is actually two active volcanos that are connected at their base. the scenery was quite spectacular. when we arrived, we were told that the lake in the crater of the southern volcano was one of the best hikes the island had to offer. when we asked some of the locals whether camping was permitted in the crater we were told, "sure, but beware of the monster in the lake."
i wasn{t scared. i was a proud owner of a dull pocket knife.

although there wasn{t much of a trail and a lot of it was basically vertical scrambling off of a rope i wouldn{t hang a toothpick off of, the hike was spectacular! howler monkeys, trees dripping with moss, fat juicy tadpoles, things that look like a cross between a racoon and a sloth...very cute. five or six hours later, we reached the rim and rapped off into the crater. we were the only ones there! the boulders, the animals, the trees...everything was picturesque! the lake had something to be desired. the murky water reached my mid-rif when i was standing in the center of the lake. that{s okay, it was refreshing.

around 6-ish in the evening, the sky began to dim slightly and the clouds had started to drop into the crater. within a few minutes the fog had reduced our visibility to three or four feet, making it virtually impossible for us to venture very far when needing to visit the loo. looking out over in the direction of the lake, i thought i was on the movie set for sleepy hallow. although instead of the sounds of toads and owls, it was toads and monkeys.
feeling as though i was lost in heaven and being content with never being found, god had decided then and there to bring me back to reality. a very wet reality. the kind that would put seattle to shame.
three people in a 1.5 person tent made living quarters slightly cozy. what{s a little wind and rain...and lightning...and thunder? we all needed to shower anyway. trying to kill the rest of the daylight hours by playing very witty word games, we inevitably got bored. just when we thought our minds were going to go numb with boredom, the earth began to move under our tent.
actually, the earth didn{t just move, it shook...and shook...and shook...

oh me gawd! the monster is going to get us! stupid me! there{s no such thing as monsters.
oh crap! that must mean that the volcano is about to blow!
are we going to die?
i hope not, that would be a shame.
my sister would be mad if i missed her wedding.
am i wearing clean underwear?
i can{t die now! it would be way too inconvenient.
what do we do? we can{t see more than three feet in front of our faces, it{s getting dark, we can{t climb back out when the rain is coming down so hard, and i REALLY have to go to the bathroom!

after a few moments, we realized that the earth was no longer shaking.

whew! wait a second. it sounds like the lake is bubbling. no, wait. yes. no. yes! it is bubbling!
i can{t hear anything over the rain and thunder.
why is that monkey sitting on top our tent? is he trying to take off our rain fly? shoo!

it was like this all night.
it was a sleepless night for the other two...my desire to sleep overcame my fear of the lake monster. needless to say, we all came out fine. a bit tired, muddy, and wet, but also healthy, wise, and craving coffee!

the lesson learned: don{t sleep in a crater of an active volcano unless you have a quick and easy outlet -even in a lightning storm.

i´ve realized that my past emails have sounded a bit cynical.
please don´t take any of my letters as complaints...except for the one about the fight. that one was a definate complaint.
i am having the most wonderful time learning about different cultures, mannerisms and cuisine. most importantly, i´m realizing what my own limitations are and am trying to exploit them like sir hawkins exploited the african slave trade.
i will return a better person.

love,
masako

days on the road: 40-ish
accidents: 2.8
encounters with ´civil servants´: 7
bribes payed: 1 @ $180.00 USD and 1 @ $10.00 USD
missing limbs/ health report: 0/
lately i have been praying to erasmus; patron saint of intestinal disorders. i do believe it has worked. my intestines have been defeated and are waving the white flag. i am weary of this sudden turn in events.
number of fights: 0!!! =)
car has broken down: three times. something about a clogged air way. PCV was changed.
days w/o showering: so far the longest has been 19 days. i have potential though. i could go longer!
i showered three days ago.
please send: yourselves!
i miss all of my idealistic, offensive, senile, uninhibited, entertaining, witty, intelectual, bold, passionate, harmonious, delusional, ill-mannered, soul stimulating, friends and family!
i´m not coming home so you guys had better come out here!

scott- you´re wrong. the bean is not evil. never trust those who do not indulge in the bean.