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CarlHoliday

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Blog Entries posted by CarlHoliday

  1. CarlHoliday
    I'm a bit down right now and not because of the depression. During this last time out my left leg swelled up like something I didn't want attached to my body. Well, it was a pain, too. So, yesterday afternoon I called the consulting nurse at our clinic and told her my symptoms. She said, "You need to go into urgent care at 3:00 when they open because they might need to do an ultrasound."
     
    Ultrasound?
     
    Yeah, of my left leg to check the blood flow of the veins. Needless to say, the nice young woman found a clot in the popliteal vein.
     
    I'm on 7 days bed rest.
     
    I'm on Warfarin.
     
    Plus, I'm giving myself twice daily injections of Enoxaparin for the next 4 to 6 days. They're given in my stomach.
     
    One thing about this experience is having people really concerned about me suddenly dying which isn't all that likely, but is a possibility. One nurse told me that in twelve years she's never seen a patient die, which is kind of good news.
     
    Anyway, I should be doing something, but I'm kind of down right now. I have to go in for another blood test in the morning. I've got a lot of blood tests ahead.
     
    Life is such a blast sometimes.
     
  3. CarlHoliday

    Deer Time

    By CarlHoliday,

    Last night as I was driving here (Clarksville, AR) I saw a deer standing in the grass beside the interstate. It was not looking into the oncoming headlights, but away from them. I thought that was rather clever for the stupid, hairy, suicidal beastie.
     
    They run out in front of cars and trucks. The question isn't "Why did the chicken cross the road?" It is "Why did the deer cross the road?" There's grass on their side. They don't need to go to the other side to get food.
     
    And, why is it people let their pets wander all about, especially if there is a busy highway out front of their house. Cats, dogs, but thanksfully no hamsters or budgies, are often seen lying mangled on the highway. You almost want to stop and go into said house and shoot the stupid f**ker for letting their pet play on the highway. They certainly don't let their kids do that.
     
    Growing up, we used to play in the street, but it was the only paved surface of any length or breadth within blocks of our neighborhood. It was play in the street or nothing. You had to watch out for the occasional Ford or Chevy, or at the minimum be able to hear the honk when it came. There was always a honk, but never a yelled "Get out of the street you stupid kid." People were kinder back then.
     
    Do you believe the audacity of parents who would allow their city or county to put up a sign that announces "Deaf Child Area" or, worse, "Blind Child Area." I haven't seen a "Deaf-Blind Child Area," but I have to assume they're out there some where in America playing on their little side street. Can a deaf-blind child ride a bicycle? Well, they'd bump into things a lot and probably fall off a lot, but I suppose you could use a tandem bike and use them as a power source while you steered. That would keep them healthy and what? It's not like they're going to be watching television or listening to the radio, or playing games on their computer. On the other hand, it's not like you can send them out to play in the yard because they're going to bump into things and tromp on the peonies. You'd have to put up fences to keep the dears out of the roses and vegetable garden.
     
    Yeah, I'm kinda feeling better today. I've come to the realization that the new meds keep me on a fairly even keel, but I still have problems laughing. Yet, I'm not getting that angry at stupid, f**cking drivers as much anymore. They're just a way of life, like deer running out in front of you. At least they're not elk. Those hulking beasts actually stand in the highway daring you to hit them and elk can kill. They're so big they can turn your Toyota into a squashed can of Coke. Last month I saw a Toyota post elk. The elk looked rather pristine lying dead in the granny lane, but the Corolla was truly smashed. The way everyone was acting, I imagine the driver wasn't walking away from that one.
     
  6. CarlHoliday

    Weatherby, OR

    By CarlHoliday,

    Weatherby isn't much more than a Rest Area on I-84 and a siding on the UP mainline to Portland/Seattle (a mixed freight is chugging up the hill right now).
     
    So, why am I writing this entry?
     
    I'm supposed to leave in 15 minutes. (It's now 15 minutes ago; been writing for a bit.)
     
    I'm goin to be home tonight. Yipee!
     
    Bonita will pee with excitement.
     
    The wife will get a hug and a peck on the lips. She might complain about my lack of romantic involvement. I love her, but not THAT way anymore. Maybe, I never loved her THAT way at all, but that's water under the bridge and I've moved on. She's still looking upstream, for what I don't care.
     
    All I have going on right now is Chapter 9. Chapter 7 was set off to my wonderful, dear, editor moments ago with instructions not to touch it until next week. She should enjoy her weekend, too.
     
    Chapter 9 hasn't been started, on "paper," that is. I know what I want to say, it's just putting it down. With a multitude of characters and situations you just never know who'll come up. I'll probably work on it this weekend while the wife is watching the idiot box. I might watch House Monday night.
     
    Remember Hugh Laurie and Stephen Fry doing the Wodehouse "Jeeves and Wooster" thingy on PBS (BBC if you're from the back side of the ocean)? Before I went to back to work, I saw the documentary "Stephen Fry: HIV and Me." It was quite good. I don't know where I'm going with this other than I'll probably watch House, except Monday is the wife's birthday and we'll be out, so I might miss it. Damn!
     
    Well, I gotta go. It's 80 in the truck, 58 outside, and the air conditioning won't come on until it's at least 70 outside. You do the math.
     
  7. CarlHoliday

    Owies

    By CarlHoliday,

    My truck, my pathetic excuse for a truck, the worthless conglomeration of metal, rubber, plastic, and software that is my truck is sitting right now in front of the company shops at our West Valley City, Utah, headquarters. I don
  8. CarlHoliday

    Oklahoma City

    By CarlHoliday,

    Yesterday, as I was driving down I-35 from Iowa I couldn't get someone out of my mind. Usually, or rather the past few days, I've been going over The Artists and where each of the characters are going, but yesterday it seemed my mind was fascinated about this one real person.
     
    The hard part is that this person actually isn't a part of my life. I have very few people who are in my life so I tend to get clingy when someone gets close. Not everyone mind you, just the ones I'm interested in, mind or body.
     
    I was thinking about this person because I was expecting to be overnighting in the Metroplex tonight after delivering my load of turkey and chemicals that have been transformed into pseudo-pork products in Fort Worth. Sometimes there isn't an outgoing load until the following morning. Luck would have it, that isn't going to happen.
     
    I have to go to Paris to get some soup.
     
    So, I'm not thinking of that person anymore and probably won't until I head this way again. Heaven knows when that will be. I've gone for months without ever being dispatched to the Metroplex and then right after another I'm going down I-35, up US-287, up I-76 to I-80 to I-35, and back down I-35. It's a constant circle.
     
    Today will be busy.
     
    The story is going well. Sharon (Have I ever told you what a great editor she is?) just sent back Chapter 6 and I'm working diligently on Chapter 8. Chapter 9 is sort of vague right now, but I expect it to coagulate once 8 is in the bag.
     
    My life is going well, too. I've been thinking a lot about my disability (it's a disability, I am not differently-abled, I'm nuts). It explains a lot about my life choices in the past and where I am today. It also explains a lot about where I might be going. I suppose a lot of my current ability to consider these things is due to the medication that has allowed more contemplation.
     
    Well, got to go. Be safe and please don't tailgate the big truck to save gas. It makes us nervous and distracts us. The last thing we want to do is wash blood and icky bits off the back bumper.
     
  9. CarlHoliday
    Back in the early days when computers were just beginning to talk, the company I worked for (major telecommunications provider in the Western US) had one that had a bad database. It could say "Iowa" when "IA" had been entered, "Washington" when "WA" had been entered, but in the beginning it had a bit of trouble with "OR, MT, and NE" which came out "Or, Mount, and Northeast," respectively. As the various upgrades took place the mistakes were eventually fixed, except for "NE". That system never seemed to figure out "NE" is "Nebraska." It was probably programmed by a Sooner.
     
    I decided to stay in Grand Island for two days rather than driving to Minnesota today and having a day off tomorrow in an unknown truck stop. This way I
  10. CarlHoliday

    Missouri

    By CarlHoliday,

    You've probably heard me say this before, but I like Missouri. In fact, I like Missouri so much I'd like to see it become the first totally gay state in the United States.
     
    I think we should demand this at the next convention of the Gay Agenda. Missouri needs us.
     
    Look at what this state has to offer. First off, it's mostly green. Well, in the winter the corn and soybean fields do go a bit brown, but there are the trees, no, wait they aren't green either. Okay, it's not green in the winter, but what state is green that time of year. Green under a blanket of snow doesn't count; and, Florida doesn't count either because they're turning that state into one giant timeshare. Florida is actually cutting down trees so the land can be paved!
     
    What else does Missouri have to offer? How about it's practically in the center of the U.S. Okay, it's not actually in the center which is somewhere in Kansas, but who wants to live in a state that has been compared to pancake and where Toto comes from. Missouri is a lot nicer than Kansas, too. Missouri has trees. Kansas has corn, pre-burgers, and religious bigots. Besides, I've been to Topeka.
     
    Missouri also has Huckleberry Finn, who just happens to be one of gayest fictional characters produced by any American writer. Look what Huck did for Bass Pro Shops.
     
    Of course, Missouri also has Springfield, but what's a little wind? It's not like they have devastating high winds and tornadoes everyday of the year. Plus, tornadoes sometimes don't take every house, sometimes one house on the block will be spared. Maybe it will be yours.
     
    We'll have to get rid of St. Louis, though. I propose we dig a huge canal around it and reroute the Mississippi River. We can dump the spoils in the old river channel and then St. Louis will be in Illinois. Illinois deserves St. Louis, after all, they've already got Chicago.
     
    By the way, I should be sleeping in Faucett, MO, right now, but I'm writing this and I finished the first section of Chapter Six. Two more sections and it's on to Chapter Seven.
     
  11. CarlHoliday

    Out

    By CarlHoliday,

    I finally got Chapter 1 of The Artists pushed out the door so all of you wonderful, beautiful, astute readers can enjoy the first installment of what I hope will be a long project. It certainly has the seeds for it: two young, impressionable, and in some ways intriguing boys; a house full of interesting and artistic people; interpersonal conflicts; a touch of psychological unbalance, just a touch, nothing certifiably crazy this time; straights, gays, and inbetweens; and four years of college ahead of all of them.
     
    The other night when I'd tired of writing, I turned on the idiot box and did not watch "Idol". Sorry, but I refuse to be idolized. What I did watch, though, was "Camp Out," a beautiful documentary about 10 gay Christian teens who go to camp somewhere in the wilds of Minnesota. To many people being Christian and gay is about as oxymoronic as you can get, but these 10 teens were struggling with this very issue. I think the documentary dealt with their situation quite well.
     
    I called the first trucking company I worked for and was told I'm "rehire-able". Now all I have to work on is getting them to shove the paperwork fast enough for me to get out the door and back on the road. If I had my druthers, I wouldn't do this, but there isn't much else I can do. The last company I drove for doesn't provide enough miles for me to make any (enough) money. There is a local company looking for CDL-A drivers, but their dispatch window runs from 00:01 to 16:00 six days a week and I need more structure than that; running long haul generally means working for 8 to 10 hours then having 10 to 12 hours off, during which I'll be able to get the sleep I need.
     
    Well, that's about all I can get out of the ol' neuron bag this morning. I have, what I hope will be my last for awhile, a blood test on the valproic acid level in a few hours so I had to get up early. I am feeling very good, but I've felt good before and crashed horribly soon afterwards. Hopefully, this stuff is actually going to level my playing field.
     
  12. CarlHoliday

    April Foolish

    By CarlHoliday,

    I'm not, by the way, so y'all can get back to the more important things in life.
     
    I've been having a small problem with the new story. One of the characters, Jim, is in his early 70s and he's being difficult. Every time I get around to attempting to write about him, I run into a block. It wasn't until this morning that I finally figured out what's wrong with Jim.
     
    For starters, what's right about Jim is he's a fairly famous sci-fi writer whose early work bordered on blatant pornography. Not quite as notorious as other Beat Generation authors, Jim Waters achieved enough fame to acquire the independence required to continue writing without having to resort to a sideline, such as teaching.
     
    Shortly after arriving at Columbia in the mid-50s to attend graduate school, Jim caught the attention of Robert "Bobby" Charles, the famous Abstract Expressionist who only recently returned from an extended stay in Europe. If "love at first sight" is a cosmic possibility, it certainly applied to Jim and Bobby. They lived in the Village for a few years during which Jim's first three novels were published, he received his Master's in Literature, and Bobby purchased the property for his Art Institute in a remote corner of Washington State.
     
    The Art Institute closed in the 80s and everyone (Bobby, Jim, and their cook/housekeeper, Euphorbia Gneiss) moved to North Park, Washington, where they opened an honors residence for art majors at North Park College. Bobby died three years prior to the time of my story.
     
    So, what is wrong with Jim?
     
    Nothing much, actually. Some bowel issues, he watches his fiber and worries about regularity. Although he's surrounded by a lot of people who love him, he'd kind of like to find someone to love him in that special way. What does a 70-something gay man do to find love, again? And, like a lot of writers at the end of their careers, he wonders if the spark of creativity has finally gone out.
     
    Now that I know what's wrong with Jim the story can move forward.
  16. CarlHoliday

    Not depressed

    By CarlHoliday,

    I'm trying very hard to get a handle on not being depressed. It's so weird! I'm just, simply, not at all, depressed. Period!
     
    And, I think I've got too much extra energy. I'm not as sleepy. I'm drowsy, but not sleepy. I almost have to force myself to go to sleep.
     
    Am I cured?
     
    Don't know because I could drop into a low, unless the medicine is stopping me. Maybe this is a high on citalopram. I know what a high on buproprion feels like, so maybe this is just what I get on citalopram.
     
    I feel like I'm on the edge of something. It's like I have a whole lot of energy to do something, but don't have in incentive or desire to do it, which would mean I'm still depressed, but too high to notice.
     
    I've decided to write a letter to my parents versus doing the short story (the story wasn't going anywhere). I need to bury the ghosts and the only way I'm going to do it is to:
     
    Dear Mom and Dad,
     
    I'm fine, sort of. Sorry about your lonely death, Mom, but I never felt like comforting you when you were alive so why should I comfort you because you were dying, especially when you didn't let me know you were actually terminal. And, Dad, I know we didn't talk all that much, whether it was you or me, we never seemed to click. Then you died and I didn't even know you were terminal. Thanks for not being truthful and honest to your only child.
     
    Pretty depressing isn't it?
     
    It only gets worse, but I think it needs to be done. I'm not going to be able to move forward unless I put those two assholes in their proper place in my life. If you've got a good mom or dad, give them a hug and tell them you love them just because they're so good to you.
     
    You know what? My mother never, ever hugged me. Then a few years ago she all of a sudden started all this hugging shit. She was terminal, but she couldn't tell me she was dying and needed my comforting embrace to make her feel good. It was always, up to the very end, about her.
     
    Pretty depressing isn't it?
     
    I'd go have a good cry right now, but I was raised not to cry. Boys don't cry! Period! I didn't grieve my father and I can't grieve my mother.
     
    I'd better stop, I beginning to make myself feel depressed.
     
  17. CarlHoliday

    It's over!

    By CarlHoliday,

    The final chapter of The Pastel Cowboy has been posted and all the strings were tied into pretty bows.
     
    There are five more chapters of Tim and the Corsair, which will be posted in the next couple months.
     
    Unfortunately, the Kevin project or whatever else is to follow Tim is still in the development stage, or worse.
     
    My life right now has been reduced to what happens today, or worse, what happens this moment.
     
    A good day means exercising, bathing, putting on clothes, and going out of the house to the Mexican restaurant or the store.
     
    An okay day means going into my room and working on a writing project like Pastel, Tim, or hopefully, the new story.
     
    A bad day is spent in bed, mostly asleep. Yesterday was almost bad day, saved only by sending Pastel to Joe so he could do the magic wand trick.
     
    So far, in the past month, I've had maybe five good days.
     
    Today maybe a good day. I woke up early and, although I'm exhausted, I am writing this, I did the announcement for Pastel, and I do want to work on Kevin. I plan on exercising, bathing, putting on something spiffy, and going out somewhere. I can't go far because I'm still not supposed to be driving (anything) and the wife won't let me.
     
    I'm not certain the Citalopram is working much more than keeping those "bad" thoughts at bay. I hardly ever have them, but I'm still scared of having a spur of the moment decision at the wrong time. Just being is quite difficult sometimes.
     
    I am keeping my recovery journal, though; and, I'm reading Bradshaw looking for a magical cure to the rattling skeletons in my closet. The counselor is great and I think she's honestly trying to help me realize I'm not the worthless sack of shit I was raised to be. No matter what they say, ridicule is not what a kid wants to hear, especially if it's coming from a parent or other family member.
     
    I want you to have a good day. I know I'm going to try to. And, tell someone you love them, even if it's just your cat.
     
  18. CarlHoliday

    Duane's Depressed

    By CarlHoliday,

    I don't know how many of you have read Larry McMurtry's final installment of the Thalia trilogy, which began with The Last Picture Show and Texasville, but like Duane Moore, I am now sans motor vehicle.
     
    I will not be driving for at least the next month; or, until the little green men stop jumping out in front of the vehicle.
     
    I went to a therapist today and I'm on the road to recovery, yet again.
     
    The Celexa is causing a lot of yawning and drowsiness and I'm only taking a half dose. I'm not certain whether I'll be able to continue with it. I go to the GP this Friday for that determination.
     
    Whatever the situation, I won't be driving for the time being.
     
  19. CarlHoliday

    Did it!

    By CarlHoliday,

    I know this is worth about as much as the paper it's not printed on, but I just finished reading every story in the Winter Anthology.
     
    Yeah, yeah, I know, so what?
     
    Well, I also went to each and every forum and entered a comment about what I liked about the story. I, also, sent a PM to one of the authors with some personal comments that I felt were inappropriate for the forum. (No, it wasn't something nasty. I liked the story and felt the writer could've done a better job. So, I made a few suggestions about improving future stories.)
     
    This isn't about going around saying, "neener neener neener guess what I did?"
     
    This is about being in a community of writers, readers, editors, and those other people who seem to do a very good job of making this thing work. I believe as a member of this community that it is my responsibility not only to write as damn well as I can, but also to read the other authors' work and entering a comment or sending a PM, as appropriate.
     
    Now, I know this is the holiday season and no one is doing diddly squat on their PCs and laptops because there's all this shit going on that's way more interesting than hanging around GA, but all of that is going to be over soon. We'll welcome you back with open arms and we won't yell at you if you don't comment, but we'll love you if you do. That's what being a member of a community is all about.
     
    Okay, I've jumped off the soap box and y'all can get back to doing what you do best.
     
    (Oh, by the by, I find it interesting that it took me almost a year to do my first 100 posts, but only just over a month to do the next 100. This thing can be addicting, but most of you probably know that.)
     
  20. CarlHoliday

    Modesto of my dreams

    By CarlHoliday,

    I'm on the road, again. Wednesday, I picked up a trailer full of Coke and took it to Redding and Marysville, CA. Then it was down to Modesto to pick up what I'm carrying now. Hopefully, I'll drop the trailer in Portland tonight and pickup another trailer headed south. I need to maximize my on-road time for the next few weeks. It was nice being off over Christmas; well, it was mostly nice being off over Christmas.
     
    The wife is sick. She has a cold.
     
    "My nose burns!"
     
    "You have a cold."
     
    "What am I going to doooo?"
     
    "It'll go away in time. Be patient."
     
    "I don't feel goooood. I coughed up a buuuunch of that phlegm stuff."
     
    "Thanks, I think I'll have breakfast now."
     
    Our son came out and spent the day with us. We took a ride down the back roads to Napavine for Christmas dinner. The restaurant is a little pricey, but there weren't a lot of complaints, as long as you don't listen to the wife. Her sandwich was too big and she had to take half of it home.
     
    We all have big plans for all the money we're getting out of dear old mom and her house. I'm looking forward to some quiet time getting undepressed. I'm trying very hard to keep everything on an even keel, but the storm in my head seems to be winning right now. I keep looking for things to make be laugh, but feelings don't last long enough.
     
    I've been seriously considering going away. (No! Not that!) A day doesn't go by when I think about how nice it must be to be saner. A couple days ago, I don't know exactly when, I was daydreaming about how life would be after ECT. Yeah, imagining myself brain damaged by medical intent. "We don't know how all that electrical stimulation works, but it seems to make them feel better." A rose by any other name...
     
    I'd like to feel better. I'd like to wake up and know it will be a sunny day, every day, no matter how much it rains.
     
    There's snow in the mountains. Right now, I might not have to put chains on going over Siskiyou Pass. Got to go.
     
    Do me a favor, think happy thoughts, you'll feel better for it.
     
  21. CarlHoliday

    A lavender fairy

    By CarlHoliday,

    Went to the doc today and let him finger my prostate. Oooh! Such a feeling!
     
    "It's a shame you have to go through something so disagreeable," he said.
     
    I almost, almost said, "you can stick a finger up my ass anytime you want," but I didn't. No need in going there. I'm not out to him and don't see any reason why he needs to know. He's my wife's doctor, too, so why put him in the middle of something he doesn't need.
     
    "It's a normal exam," he said.
     
    "Thanks," I said.
     
    Then I went down to the lab and the duty vampire sucked out a sufficient quantity for a PSA test. Four years ago I had 2.0 ng/ml; this time it was 1.9, which I guess is okeydokey.
     
    I mentioned to the lab tech I was thinking about getting a tat and she showed me the bird above her right breast and the sun on her left shoulder. She also said the place I want to go is a good place. I figure a lab tech would know if a tat shop was clean.
     
    So, I stopped on the way home.
     
    "Where are you going?" the wife asked when I parked the car.
     
    "Be right back," I said.
     
    The shop was technically closed, but the owner was in and allowed me to look though the sample book for a gecko. I picked out a lizard. The geckos were too cute. The lab tech said I should have a yin and yang symbol on the gecko's back. The tat artist said he could put one on the lizard, which will be chartreuse in honor of the new story.
     
    There was also a fairy in the book. I'm thinking he'd look very nice on my left arm. Red, maybe, or blue, or, maybe lavender. A lavender fairy isn't too obvious, right?
     
    When I got back to the car the wife said, "You went into that tatoo place."
     
    "Yeah, I did. I'm getting a tatoo."
     
    "You're WHAT?"
     
    "Getting a tatoo."
     
    I didn't say what I'm getting or where it's going. I also didn't say anything about the lavender fairy.
     
    Yeah, maybe I'll do the fairy, first. Then the lizard. I could do a chartreuse fairy and a lavender lizard, with maybe a red omicron on its back; or maybe a red 42 just for fun.
     
    Wow! This was a fun day.
     
  22. CarlHoliday

    Thwok!

    By CarlHoliday,

    My fairy godmother bopped me in the head with her wand last month. I think mostly to get my attention. He (well, it's certainly obvious to me) doesn't flit by all that often so I'm never ready to get that little stick upside my head.
     
    And, then, lo and behold I get a PM advising me I'm going to become a Hosted Author here at GA.
     
    Well, what could I say?
     
    Of course I said, "Oh thank you, thank you, thank you, you can have my first born male child." (I could've promised a female child, but I don't have any of those.)
     
    Needless to say, good ol' fairy godmother must have gone to Key West for the season because the omnipotent techies here at GA were busier than maggots on a festering wound. Nothing happened.
     
    I got the silly idea I could make things happen on my own. After all, I was the one who was hit with the wand.
     
    I came up with some ideas, but I am severely graphically challenged. Art eludes me. I can do type styles. I have no problem with type, but colors and all those other graphic elements just don't make any sense.
     
    Then along comes Joe and he's got my fairy godmother by the balls. Magic is flying all over the place. In no time at all, there I am on the Hosted Authors page with an ugly button leading to my site, such as it is.
     
    If you haven't been there, it's just a click away.
     
     
  24. CarlHoliday

    Do I need to change?

    By CarlHoliday,

    As I was driving back from Portland today I thought about changing the title of this blog.
     
    When I first started this, I took the title from my LiveJournal blog, which has suffered significantly from a general lack of entries since this was begun. So, I was thinking maybe I could actually have two blogs if they were named differently.
     
    So, I came up with a few ideas and thought, "Why not give my readers a chance to influence my generally obstinate mental processes?"
     
    I don't have to change, but I thought maybe now was a good time to consider it.
     
    Anyway, I am open to any and all suggestions offered.
     
  25. CarlHoliday
    I have to be in Gresham, OR, around 10:00 this morning. I said I'd be there to drop this trailer.
     
    Day before yesterday I did the Bay Area. Drove from Corning, CA, to Livermore to deliver some box making material. Then it was down to Oakland to finish the load. I had to sit for a bit before my dispatcher found a load for me. It was in Stockton.
     
    I don't know if I have a load or if I'm taking the weekend off. A couple weeks ago I asked for the time off, but didn't hear if it was approved.
     
    I'm depressed right now.
     
    It comes and goes and it came back, again.
     
    Everything is okie-dokie, I just depressed.
     
    The story I was working on for the winter anthology is getting to be too long, again. I'd like it to be short, but it has to cover a lot of territory. I think it might be getting long enough to change into my next project since the Kevin thingy isn't going on because I want to get this story out of my mind.
     
    I think the reason the story is becoming too long is because where it takes place. One of the main characters, Acam the Geek, says,
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