Hey, folks.

How's life?

So, the book on Authonomy is going well. Here's the link if you're looking for another read:

In the space of six days we've jumped 2,000 places in the listings to... 722 overall. A great jump if you ask me, as we're still early days here. I've also recieved some fantastic feedback from everyone that's read it and it'll make for a better story. Wonder what the next week will put me at.

Speaking of the week, I've been measuring my productivity. And the results are vaguely encouraging. Inspired in part by Logan's entry a week or two ago about the woes of procrastination, I've been keeping a little notebook and jotting down a list of things I hope to achieve every day.

Things like:

That was part of Thursday's list. I then tick the item off if its accomplished, total them and work out the percentage completed for the day. That's my productivity. Thursday I got 70% of everything planned done.

Overall for the week ending 12/04/09, my productivity was.... 61%!

That's not great. That's barely a credit pass at university. At least I didn't fail (49% or less), but it could be a lot better. That was a week with five night shifts in it, however. With only three morning shifts this week, we'll see if that's a factor.

I've found this system works as a sort of motivator to get things done. If there's a to-do list, and a chance of failing for the day, I feel inclined to sit my lazy ass down and write a 1,000 words, even if I'd rather be watching The Simpsons or reading a book.

Well, that's that.

In other news, I got in a fight today, and sustained some minor damage to my hyper-alloy chassis:

Watch Everything is Possible and more funny videos on CollegeHumor

I'm sorry, but this just struck me as magnificent:

It's the Joker, riding Falcor the luck dragon from The Neverending Story. I'm sure I could say I like it for some obscure abstract reason concerning mainstream media crossovers and reluctant ambiguity, but that would be bullshit. Really I like it just for the sheer ridiculousness of the image.

No rhyme or reason to this post, folks. Sometimes its just best to spend a few moments a day with the absurd. Keeps things in perspective.

Take care,

joe

Hey, folks.

So it's been a strange old week down here. For one, we're stifling and suffering through a heat wave that has so far killed half a dozen people and cost upwards of $100,000,000 (AUD) in damage. It has to be really bad for Australia to declare it a heatwave, you know, but it's not just simply hot it is also disgustingly humid. When you couple that with the fact I have to stand next to large commercial jets that are 'cooling down' after flying eleven hours across the world at work, it's getting harder and harder to maintain my cool, calm demeanour that others rely upon to keep them strong. Okay, that I like to think they rely upon... okay, I've never thought that until just now... mostly.

Moving swiftly on....

For two, there is some sort of rat-marsupial loose in my house, and try as I might I can't catch the bugger and have only had one brief glimpse of it (enough to know its not a regular, common household rat). T'is a native woylie, if I don't miss my mark. Have a look:

He's a good boy, really, most of the time, but terriers were made for 'rabbiting', and Spuds the Woylie looks an awful lot like a rabbit. Dex is failing to understand his current increase in 'outside time'. The RSPCA should be here in about 12 hours to flush Spuds out.

For three, just over a week ago I went to church for the first time in I don't know how long. The priest was a Vietnamese man named, coincidentally enough, Father Joe (see, like Captain Joe, but more meaningful), and I went along with my girl, who's always been a regular church-goer (should that word by hyphenated?), because Father Joe and the mass were giving her a special good-luck-and-be-safe blessing, as she's gone away for six weeks to work at an orphanage in - and we're coming full circle here - Vietnam.

So I'm sad and lonely with only Dexter and Spuds the Woylie for company, whilst I sit here worrying and imagining the worse dangers in Vietnam befalling sweet Finola. Honestly, she's doing a really good thing over there, and god save me but she wants to adopt one of the little buggers, an 18 month old boy named Pien, that calls her mum and clings to her legs, and actually has me researching the process for international adoption. This doesn't worry me that much, as I've a solid job and a solid family network on both mine and Finola's side, that could give Pien a good home. What does worry me is Finola's disappointment and that in all likelihood when she comes back at the end of the month, she'll never see Pien again.

Sad but true, gosh darn it.

In all honesty, I spent months selfishly trying to convince Finola not to go on such a worrisome venture, and alternate months trying to convince her that I should go with her. The former was a misguided attempt to calm my own worry, the latter was damned resignation and a desire to be there with her, but for the wrong reasons (i.e. not for the orphans, but to look out for her). Finola being the kind selfless person that she is, understood both my points of view about this long before even I did, and kept me from making a mistake either way.

Okay, so that's my two cents for this, the early hours of Wednesday February 4th, 2009. Heh, today is my late-grandmother's birthday (again, should that have a hyphen? I'm drawing a blank on those this morning), may she rest in peace. Today will be a good day, a great day, if only a little too warm for comfort.

Cheers much, guys and gals, if you read this far. I waffled on a bit, and still am. Okay, here's a funny video simply to balance out the ups and downs of this last week:

Well, it be 2009 - for better or worse, another year - and I hope you all had a safe and happy New Year-No, no, scratch that. I hope you all had an adventurous New Year, with mayhem and excitement. Brushes with danger, perhaps, dodging bullets and jumping over tall fences with nothing on your back save what you can carry at a dead run.

Joe's New Year Resolutions:

1. Don't sweat the small stuff and try to remember that it is all small stuff!

2. Finish one of the three novels I have on the go at the moment. Lot of drifting in my lil writing world at the moment. None of it overly productive.

3. To feel the fear and do it anyway.

4. Remember that it's not too late, but one day it will be.

5. Grow a beard like Rothfuss/Pratchett/Marky.

6. To figure out why all wisdom seems to end in paradox.

There, six healthy resolutions. A few years ago I was turned off making resolutions because of something Mark Twain said. I think it was Mark Twain. It ran like this... 'Now is the accepted time to make your regular annual good resolutions. Next week you can begin paving hell with them as usual.'

Sobering, I know, as it should be when you're playing for keeps.

Okay, I've started another novel (urban fantasy, young protagonist, blah blah blah) and it was inspired by this image:

So yeah, happy new year, folks, my hope is that, for at least one moment this year, there'll be something real at stake.