tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5301876662941244802024-03-19T01:25:07.191-07:00Concerning Sonnets, Et ceteraA weekly blog of original sonnets, etc.SimulatedANealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05819079706975976858noreply@blogger.comBlogger20125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-530187666294124480.post-39098611185082354312014-01-29T20:54:00.002-08:002014-06-01T22:45:42.872-07:00Season's EndIf you hadn't guessed, three posts in four days was sufficient to qualify as "caught up" after not writing over the three week winter break which is why the onslaught of "Con-Son-Slaught" abruptly came to an end following my last post. Ironically enough, you also may have noticed that I haven't posted anything for about three weeks, reason being, I'm busy. My work load for this quarter is really starting to pile up and while I can't say I don't have any free time at all, I found watching <i>Wilfred</i> on Netflix much easier than writing a blog post or sonnet or editing my NaNoWriMo novel.<br />
<br />
Since my last post I've started some new poetry projects; it's entirely probable they will join the 17 other sonnets I've left unfinished but these six most recent ones mean enough to me that I at least wrote more than one line, which, unfortunately, seems to be the way I work: I write down whatever line made me think it was such a great idea to begin with, and then, what took me less than a minute to write down, sits untouched for months. I hope to finish a few sonnets in a timely fashion but with the way this quarter is hammering me over the head, that probably won't happen. <br />
<br />
Speaking of a timely fashion (ha), with the completion of this post I will have finally reached the point in time that I was planning on going up to with my first, "season two" post back in October of 2013. It has been a rather drawn out process but I wouldn't have wanted it any other way; had it been any different, both quality of this blog and my satisfaction in its expression would be severely diminished.<br />
<br />
After three months of writing, here it is: the final chapter of "The Past One and a Half Years of My Average Life." Before I get to that, though, I'd like to cover the still relevant topic I said I might revisit -- windsurfing. When I first mentioned it in <a href="http://concerningsonnets.blogspot.com/2013/11/a-lahar-of-tea-and-fruit-snacks.html">A Lahar of Tea and Fruit Snacks</a> all I said was, "holy crap was it a workout." I actually don't have anything more to add about windsurfing; I just wanted to use it as a segway into my trip back to Minnesota after the Alaskan cruise.<br />
<br />
A large portion of my time back in Minnesota was spent trying to get my uncle's old windsurf from about 1980 back in surfable condition. I must have spent a good ten hours trying to find all the parts, clean 30 years of filth off them, and figure out how they all fit together. Anyway, long story short, I spent all that time and sweat only to use the blasted thing twice. In my defense I'd like to say it was too windy in the wrong direction and, I'd like to add (though I may not be entirely telling the truth), it was the equipment that was faulty and not the operator. It wasn't the same kind of rig I used for my Beginning Windsurfing class, true, but how much of a difference in design can 30 years make, really? "Apparently quite a bit," so said my exhausted, puking form, collapsed in the shallows from having to paddle halfway across the lake when the wind pushed me there and I realized I wouldn't be able to surf my way back.<br />
<br />
When I wasn't busy feeding the fish, I spent many enjoyable hours laying in the sun, reading <i>A Song of Ice and Fire</i>, and catching up on Breaking Bad. I went to visit some old high school friends too, but it's hard to catch up when you live 1,576 or more miles away, are on different school schedules, and only have an hour over coffee to do so. I still enjoyed the company of my friends but compared to other times, this visit felt different; I felt like a former employee with a visitor's badge -- an outsider. I guess that's bound to happen when everyone goes their separate ways to college and beyond but, all the same, it was disheartening to feel less than comfortable around the wonderful people that made high school as enjoyable of an experience as it can be.<br />
<br />
I came back from Minnesota with a farmer's tan, slightly less of an esophageal lining but a greater sense of pride and determination, and a resolution to stay in better contact with friends, lest the only pillars I've built beneath a facade of indifference come crashing down.<br />
<br />
I honestly don't remember much of what I did between Minnesota and the start of Fall quarter. That's not just because I spent a weekend up in Vancouver with my brother and mother sipping wine and stumbling/floating around Olympic Village, but because I just didn't do much of anything exciting; unless, of course, you consider sanding my mother's new kitchen cupboard doors with a power sander exciting. Coming back to school was just exchanging one grindstone for another. Most anything of significance that has happened these past two quarters has been incorporated sporadically throughout the retelling of these past few years, with the exception of seeing Ryan Stiles perform live in October. I haven't laughed that hard in years.<br />
<br />
Lastly, I need to mention that I'll be attending the International Summer School at the University of Oslo, Norway this summer. More info on that to come soon.<br />
<br />
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br />
<br />
Don't worry.<i> </i>Though this may be the end of another "season" of <i>Concerning Sonnets</i>, there won't be a year-and-a-half hiatus after this one like there was after the short-lived season 1, which ran from February 28th to April 11, 2012 if you wish to check the archives. These aren't seasons like those of a television show: there's no life-or-death cliffhanger at the end before a two year intermission (*cough* <i>Sherlock</i> *cough*); they're merely an imagined distinction between the phases of this blog. Season 1 was focused primarily on the poetry aspect while Season 2 has been focused on the retelling of my life since the end of season 1. Looking to the future, I hope to combine the poetry aspect of Season 1 and the journaling aspect of Season 2. I'd like to write more poetry while keeping up to date with current events in my life and maintain the spirit of creativity by recording any observations, anecdotes, or fanciful contrivances that come to mind in my day-to-day living of life.<br />
<br />
Be sure to keep an eye out for occasional "interim" posts I'll use to put out a poem or two and as a way to keep you up to date on events as I finish up this busy school year and prepare for the "premier" of Season 3, which I hope will be sometime shortly after my return from Norway. But as can be imagined, most of my energies from now until then will be directed toward schoolwork, the editing of my NaNoWriMo novel, and the creation and population of a new blog devoted to my trip to Norway.<br />
<br />
I apologize for the rather spasmodic nature of this post but there was much I wanted to cover before setting down the pen, so to speak. In addition to that, writing this over the space of a week hasn't lent itself to quality or continuity. Nevertheless, I hope you've enjoyed reading it along with all the sonnets, stories, and straightout shit of seasons now past. Here's looking forward to much of that and more; see you next season. - Neal Lee Digre <br />
<br />
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Liked this post? Didn't like it?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Leave some feedback and let me know why! I'm always seeking to improve.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Thanks for reading!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Unpublished material, ©2014 Neal Digre </span>SimulatedANealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05819079706975976858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-530187666294124480.post-86068502444545402852014-01-09T21:59:00.003-08:002014-06-01T22:46:08.465-07:00A Cruise & Course of Action: The Chundering of the MindNow that classes are kicking off I actually have things to do, which, ironically enough, makes me feel both less stressed and comfortable enough to be procrastinating on homework by watching Netflix and, if I'm in the mood, blogging. Still, I'd like to keep up with my writing. At some point I'd also like to start editing my NaNoWriMo novel but at the moment that seems far more time consuming than simply jotting down whatever my brain pukes up.<br />
<br />
The writing process I go through for most of these posts isn't simply sitting down at the computer and pounding out the entire thing. Usually I'll start out by listing the events or ideas I want to cover as soon as they come to mind -- the chundering of the mind, if you will -- which might be weeks or even months before they're in a form read to be posted. Once I have the basic skeleton, an ample amount of time, and preferable but not necessary disposition for writing, I sit down for a more traditional extended period of time to get as much written as I possibly can. Often it takes many of these sessions to get something I feel resembles a complete post. Sometimes during this process I add a paragraph -- like this one -- just for the
heck of it even though it wasn't part of my original idea. This way the post maintains an organic style that reflects what I want this blog as a whole to reflect: my unfiltered thoughts. Usually I'd take a few days to edit until I'm satisfied with what I've written but because I've been trying to post most every day this week, there has been minimal revision.<br />
<br />
I now return you to this week's regularly scheduled chunder.<br />
<br />
To refresh your memory of where I left off in the chronology of my life, I had just finished my summer courses: Sociolinguistics, Morphology, Tolkien's Imaginary Languages, and Beginning Windsurfing. A week after my last final I embarked on a cruise to Alaska, courtesy of my grandmother. As impressive as my family was with its matching bright red t-shirts -- complete with our names printed on the back (Yes, we're <i>that</i> family) -- lined up like bloody ducks in a row, we paled in comparison to the mind-numbing enormity of the ship: A seemingly immovable hulk of elegant exorbitance; but as with anything in this world, money somehow manages to transport tons of hollow luxury through the rough, briny waters of pecuniary straits, crowded by small, barnacle-covered fishing boats struggling to remain afloat in the wake of the ship. <br />
<br />
The ship did have some redeeming qualities: 765 of them. I had much respect for the enthusiasm, hard work, and talent of the 765 crew members employed on the ship. With a smile on their face, they served, entertained, and waited hand-and-foot upon 2,435 pretentious passengers, even when their guests were less than polite. One morning at breakfast I saw a voluptuous woman yelling at her
waiter because he had tried to take what must have been her third plate of food before
she'd finished the last bite of seared ahi tuna. Of course, that isn't an accurate representation of all the passengers; many of them -- my family included -- were appreciative and respectful. It may even be that most passengers possessed a temperament similar to that of my family but a "free" all-you-can-eat buffet and 24-hour service can do unspeakable things to a person.<br />
<br />
My general distaste for the pompous had very little affect on my overall enjoyment of the cruise; when forced to be aboard the ship I avoided or ignored them, spending my time reading for hours in the warm comfort of the solarium. Over the course of the seven day cruise, I think I made it through the first two and a half books of "A Song of Ice and Fire" by George R.R. Martin.<br />
<br />
Relaxing as this was when the seas weren't rough, the shore excursions were the core of the cruise; and you can bet your bottom dollar that as soon as we were allowed to disembark I was off that floating pile of asphyxiating extravagance. From bear watching to whale watching, zip-lining to fish-taco-line-ing; from Craigdarroch Castle to Butchart Gardens; from Scenic Railways to phonemic word-plays; I did, I saw, I rode, I cleverly expressed. All for the pure and simple beauty of it.<br />
<br />
Yet the most beautiful and awe inspiring sight of the entire cruise was the Dawes Glacier in the Endicott Arm Fjord with the Mendenhall Glacier coming in at a close second. To see a wall of ice the height of your 11 deck cruise ship shimmering in the early morning sun, flashing it's brilliant blue smile that can only hope to be replicated in the ungraspable depth of a fair blue sky, is a sight that I will never forget. The experience was made even more meaningful by the Geology course I took last fall. Something my professor said -- getting choked up before he dismissed the class -- moved me deeply: Unless my generation does something about CO2 emissions and Global warming and finds some way to fix the shit sandwich we've been handed, his children and my children and my children's children will never have the opportunity that I had -- to gaze upon the historical layers, wonder, and beauty of a glacier with their own eyes. The hard truth, though, is that even if we immediately reduce or eliminate anthropogenic causes of climate change, by the time it has an effect the world's glaciers will already be irrevocably diminished. <br />
<br />
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br />
<br />
This post got a little depressing towards the end but I hope that anyone reading this takes it to heart and does something, <i>anything </i>to slow the undeniable climate change that is going on right now and ruining the beautiful planet we live on! If we don't, who will? -NLD<br />
<br />
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Liked this post? Didn't like it?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Leave some feedback and let me know why! I'm always seeking to improve.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Thanks for reading!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Unpublished material, ©2014 Neal Digre </span>SimulatedANealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05819079706975976858noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-530187666294124480.post-30915817289777793192014-01-07T21:04:00.002-08:002014-06-01T22:46:30.503-07:00Debugging a Case of the Post-Break BlahsAs its title suggest, this post is an expansion on my last post. In addition to discussing the symptoms of the post-break blahs, I take the liberty to type at you about stress in my life, in general. It is something that I have worked very hard to manage over the past year and while this may not be a complete summary of the stressors in my life, I try to cover both the primary and most amusing ones.<br />
<br />
Because of my inactivity over winter break I now find myself incessantly stressing over a multitude of things, some of them directly caused by said indolence while others are merely exacerbated by it but ever present. This is what I like to call "a case of the post-break blahs." Two weeks, three weeks, perhaps a month spent doing not much more than that which is absolutely necessary to continue living; such is the life of a college student on break. For most college students this is enough -- to be relaxed, to be content doing nothing. For someone like me that bases his worth as a human being on how much he accomplishes -- whether that be the goals he set for himself or projects completed on a whim -- doing nothing for the entire break is gratifying at the time but every goal not achieved by the end of the break is a cinder block on his mind. That isn't to say I can't ever allow myself to relax; like I said in my previous post, winding down every now and then for a period of time long enough to relieve stress but short enough so that it doesn't become a habit is a good thing. It is when I do absolutely nothing for weeks or even days on end that it becomes a problem and leads to the post-break blahs. And with each passing week of inactivity the "blah"
gains momentum.<br />
<br />
The blah-momentum gained over an entire break of lethargic wanderings from meal to meal smashes me into the next quarter like a fly that hasn't annoyed anyone into the windshield of an Infiniti EX37 traveling at top speed. (For a more impressive statement, I was going to say a Bugatti Veyron instead of the Infiniti but my tuition isn't quite so high as that. It only would have convoluted the simile even further). I guess what I mean to say is this: the fact that I have to be a functioning, productive human being again after weeks of sloth-ing about is a bit of a rough transition. I beat myself up for all the things I didn't get done in addition to now stressing over things that I <i>need </i>to do for school.<br />
<br />
I'm sure I'm being too hard on myself and should instead focus on
the things that make me happy in the moment and not care so much about
keeping to such strict time limits on achieving my goals. As nice as that
sounds to me, it's not how I'm programmed. Sure, I can go in and change
some code here or there now and then to increase my overall happiness
or what have you, but trying to make any really significant changes to
the code will only result in some bug that creates more problems than
what I had to begin with. #CSmajorProbs<br />
<br />
Anywho, back to the blah. When I get back to school the first thing I do is stress over getting everything unpacked and organized. Usually organizing things is very relaxing but, for some unknown reason, following a break I go bonkers until everything is where I think it should be -- clothes are hanging up or folded neatly, food is arranged in the drawer corresponding to its proper meal, my backpack is filled with any binders, pencils, or notebooks I'll need for the upcoming quarter. Once that's done I'm left free to worry about the first day of classes. I don't think this has so much to do with the blah as it does with me always being slightly anxious for the first day of <i>anything</i> new to me.<br />
<br />
A relatively recent development is that along with the stress -- or any thought that worries me, particularly those concerning the future -- my neck and jaw tense up. This may be where my body has always stored my stress and I just didn't notice it until I started college but now whenever I'm feeling overwhelmed my neck and jaw get very tight, as if I'm cold; which, as a matter of fact, is how I started to notice this as a side affect of being stressed. When I'm walking around campus with nothing particular on my mind and it's cold enough that my neck and jaw automatically tense up, I automatically start to think about something that stresses me out. I don't know if this is because my body now associates stress with tension in the neck and jaw but it always seems worse at the start of a new quarter, especially winter quarter. As the chill passes, so too does feeling stressed.<br />
<br />
That's really all I can do: Wait until the stress passes while doing my best to not let it get the best of me; at the same time facing the stress, analyzing it, so I can type out a new snippet of code that covers the base case and recursively reduces the amount of stress associated with a certain stressor. <br />
<br />
Now on to the fun part where I reveal the silly things that stress me out. A brand new stressor from this quarter was the amount of food in my dorm room. Looking at it now I don't think it's a particularly large amount (maybe because I've already eaten quite a bit of it) but when I first moved back in and got my homemade soup, lefse, butter, brownies, orange juice, milk, and various other perishables all organized I was honestly stressed about how I was going to eat it all before it went bad and, if I did manage such a feat, how fat I'd be as a result. These are, of course, irrational things to be stressed over but at the time they were serious enough to warrant a tweet.<br />
<br />
Just as silly though slightly more serious -- getting to bed by a certain time stresses me out. I've always been fairly diligent about getting the recommended 7-9 hours of sleep (National Sleep Foundation) and if it seems like I'll need to stay up late enough that I won't get that amount I get stressed out. Silly, I know, but true. Instead of working on the paper or program that's keeping me from bed in the first place I'll sit at my desk all tight-jawed, not getting any work done, glancing at the clock every few seconds, calculating how many hours of sleep I'd get if I went to bed right that second; and that's if I fell asleep the moment my head hit the pillow -- a rare occurrence as my mind is usually too busy thinking about the contents of this post.<br />
<br />
I've worked very hard this past year to not worry so much about the time I get to bed or any other stressor in my life; I simply focus on what I absolutely need to get done that day and after that do whatever will be relaxing and make me happiest -- such as staying up until 1:30 in the morning blogging -- even if it prevents me from getting as much sleep as I'd like.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br />
<br />
That's all for today. I hope it's been as entertaining for you as it's been therapeutic for me. To give you an idea of what my next few posts will be about, I'd like to resume where I left off (duh) in the story of "The Past One and a Half Years of My Average Life." If you've forgotten where exactly in the story that is -- don't worry you weren't the only one -- you can go back to <a href="http://concerningsonnets.blogspot.com/2013/11/a-lahar-of-tea-and-fruit-snacks.html">A Lahar of Tea and Fruit Snacks</a> to refresh your memory. I hope that by the end of the week I get caught up to the present day so that when I resume my normal posting schedule of once a week I'm free to blog about whatever catches my fancy. Who knows, I might even get into the habit of blogging more and continue to post more often than just once a week. We'll see. For sure, though, I'd like to get back to writing sonnets because it's been too long. I don't even have a terrible pun to leave you with today. Oh well. Thanks for reading! -NLD<br />
<br />
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Liked this post? Didn't like it?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Leave some feedback and let me know why! I'm always seeking to improve.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Thanks for reading!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Unpublished material, ©2014 Neal Digre </span></div>
SimulatedANealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05819079706975976858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-530187666294124480.post-31439274714586585402014-01-06T16:31:00.000-08:002014-06-01T22:47:03.693-07:00Absolutely Nothing and Virtually EverythingWell, this is embarrassing. It's been almost a full month since I last posted and for this I apologize profusely; Not to you, of course -- I can guarantee the world kept on spinning despite my lack of babbling nonsense to clog the internet -- I'm apologizing to myself. Before winter break began I told myself I was going to get a lot of stuff done: keep up with my Japanese, blog more often than once every week, start editing my NaNo novel, teach myself old Norse. (That last one is only half a joke.) I didn't do any of those things. Granted, I did read three sizable books but it still feels like I let myself down because I didn't accomplish the goals I had set for during my time off. If this blog post can't eliminate sloth and make the world a perfect place, it'll at least -- I hope -- put everything in my own mind to peace.<br />
<br />
Once finals were over and winter break began I had much to do but did absolutely nothing and virtually everything. By this I mean my days were spent racing cars and crashing into fences in the virtual world of Asphalt 8: Airborne. At least I was able to multitask and watch Netflix, too. Instead of working on the things I told myself I would work on over break, I sat around in my pajamas all day either playing Asphalt 8 on my iPhone, watching Netflix until I felt hungry enough to get off my butt to get a piece fruit because it involved less work than making myself a peanut butter sandwich, or reading a book that I couldn't put down. I'd like to think that the book being so captivating is what kept me from working on other projects -- specifically, the editing of my own novel -- but when I wasn't reading there seemed to be plenty of time to play Asphalt 8. If I can't balance turning pages with tearing them apart word by word, I'll never be the level of writer that, in turn, can keep a reader glued to their seat and prevent them from getting other, more important tasks done.<br />
<br />
As pleased as I am with how much I read over the break, it did not occupy the majority of my time spent. As aforementioned, most of my time was spent playing games on my iPhone or watching Netflix. No. That isn't right. A significant majority of the day was actually spent reading but I'm so distraught with myself over how much time I "wasted" playing games -- as little time as that may have been -- it seems far more important than the positive things I did over break. Such is the way of my mind: A small negative devours larger positives until only wrongs in my mind remain.<br />
<br />
During break, I would have said that it has been excellent. I was able to spend time with family, see a myriad of movies, watch U.S. Olympic Trials, and, in general, engage in activities that were very relaxing. I felt that it was a much deserved hiatus. Even sitting around doing nothing can be beneficial. However, I now find myself with a case of the post-break blahs. A little break is good but taking a break to the point
where I panic when I have to be a responsible human being again is definitely not. I do nothing for so long that I forget what it's like to have structure in my day, to have things I need to get done. This is a mental state I go through during and after every break but more so after winter break because it is so long (nearly an entire month). All I can do is stay busy, take a day at a time and wait until the stormy sea of my thoughts calms down.<br />
<br />
To anyone else this may seem like absolutely nothing more than the idle ramblings of an anxious college student but to me it's virtually everything.<br />
<br />
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br />
<br />
Forgive the stream of consciousness writing, unless you dig that sort of thing; I'm a little out of practice. To make up for everything I didn't write over break I'm going to try and post every day or at the very least every other day until I think I've caught up to where I want to be. I hope that I'll finish a sonnet or two along the way but I can't make any promises. This week, instead of a sonnet I'll leave you with a poor excuse for a pun. Have a good one! - NLD <br />
<br />
Not with Asphalt 8 but sitting on my ass, fault lies in my mind.<br />
<br />
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Liked this post? Didn't like it?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Leave some feedback and let me know why! I'm always seeking to improve.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Thanks for reading!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Unpublished material, ©2014 Neal Digre </span>SimulatedANealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05819079706975976858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-530187666294124480.post-59767868495163906292013-12-11T21:12:00.003-08:002013-12-11T21:12:38.694-08:00NaNo NarcosisThis post is going out a little later than usual, I know, but it's not like anyone cares enough to look at my blog before I post "New blog post!" on Facebook and Twitter, anyway. Between finishing projects, studying for finals, watching Netflix, and staring at the ceiling as my roommate played Assassin's Creed until 4:00 in the morning, I literally had no time to write so I apologize for my excuses. I also apologize for the shortness of this post but after the verbosity of some of my earlier posts I don't think you'll mind too terribly much. It's just that writing an entire novella in one month can make a person feel like they need respite from writing.<br />
<br />
I won NaNoWriMo with a grand total of 50,068 words! In more comprehensible terms, that's just over 90 pages in Microsoft Word, Times New Roman, 12-point font, one-inch margins, single spaced; or 175 pages double spaced -- the equivalent of 35, five-page papers. Of course, when the only objective is writing as many words as possible, quality tends to be slightly less than that of a paper written entirely the night before it's due. Still, it's 50,068 words I didn't have at the beginning of the November. Not only did I meet my goal of surpassing last year's word count that plateaued at 40,000 words, but I actually like my story! This surprised me more than anything. I'm the type of person that once I set my mind to accomplishing a task or goal there are very few things that can prevent me from doing so, so I knew I could win; it was just a matter of how much I wanted to kill myself by the end of the month. Come November 30, I didn't want to kill myself. Some of my characters may or may not have been so lucky.<br />
<br />
Now that November's over, what's next? Well, once I've had sufficient time to forget about my story, I'll let loose my inner editor and keel over backwards, stunned by the atrocious writing. But that is what I've been looking forward to most since October 31. I want to transform the raw, unfiltered ideas into a coherent story. Who knows? Maybe one day I'll even get it published. But I won't get ahead of myself; all I can do is edit, revise, and become a better writer.<br />
<br />
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br />
<br />
No sonnet this week, I'm afraid.<br />
To all my fellow college students, good luck on finals! <br />
To everyone else, have a great week! -NLD<br />
<br />
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Liked this post? Didn't like it?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Leave some feedback and let me know why! I'm always seeking to improve.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Thanks for reading!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Unpublished material, ©2013 Neal Digre </span>SimulatedANealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05819079706975976858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-530187666294124480.post-62432036183866262752013-12-04T13:35:00.001-08:002013-12-04T13:43:28.067-08:00A Manner of SpeakingI have been super swamped with final projects and studying for finals so I haven't had the time or brain capacity to write a full blog post. Excuses, excuses, I know, but I feel like a geology lab final mapping project, a computer science planetary gravitation animator program, a Japanese vocabulary quiz, and a Japanese final exam are valid excuses when condensed into a three day period. It's been a while since I last posted a sonnet, though, so I'll tag in a sonnet I wrote earlier this year. I'll get my NaNoWriMo debrief out once I'm not up to my ears in schoolwork.<br />
<br />
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br />
<br />
I started writing this sonnet over a year ago but only finished it a couple months ago. That is mainly because of the long periods during which I didn't work on it but also because it just took me that long to get it right. The original idea I started with over a year ago was to write a sonnet using only idioms. So here it is:<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
A Manner of Speaking<br />
<br />
Though silver streaks this cloud contains, please hold<br />
Your horses -- specially Charley. Someone beat<br />
Him for a bucket kicked in moment's heat<br />
And kept his eye for on the rest. All told,<br />
Should canny cat possess my tongue then cold<br />
My blood will run till thoughts I think on feet.<br />
So hungry for coherent words I'd eat<br />
Your horse and pay with arms and legs I sold<br />
For less than heads and tails. But Charley brings<br />
A gift of verse; don't look him in the mouth.<br />
Yet still I'm on a limb, no room to swing<br />
The canny cat against the clock. Should things<br />
From wrong directions rubbed on you go South<br />
I'm leaving you with this: a piece of cake.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
How many idioms did you count? Leave a comment with your answer. The first one to get it right gets a virtual high five! Woo! Once finals are over I'll do my best to get the backlog of posts I say I'm going to post posted. That's all for now. Have a great week! -NLD<br />
<br />
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Liked this post? Didn't like it?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Leave some feedback and let me know why! I'm always seeking to improve.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Thanks for reading!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Unpublished material, ©2013 Neal Digre </span>SimulatedANealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05819079706975976858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-530187666294124480.post-31787295175714369302013-11-26T15:11:00.003-08:002013-11-26T15:27:51.843-08:00Homeward Bound! But Where's Shadow?I'm posting a day early because today is the day I'm actually going home for Thanksgiving Break; I thought it would be more appropriate, considering the title and content of this post. This post is mainly my unfiltered thoughts from when I wrote it at 1:30 in the morning so if they seem a little abrasive, that's probably why.<br />
<br />
If you're reading this on the day of its posting, good for you; but for me there are only four and a half days left of NaNoWriMo! If you're not reading this on the day it was posted, I assume you had a hideous eye-infection that prevented you from doing so. Just as it doesn't really matter when you're actually reading this, the last four and a half days of NaNoWriMo don't really matter because I've already achieved my goal of writing more words than I did last year. Scratch that. IT MATTERS! I've come way too far not to finish now. Once November's over I'll finally be able to unleash the natural editor inside me that I've kept chained and padlocked in a dark and lonely cell with walls three feet thick and only one key -- "The End."<br />
<br />
NaNoWriMo has been a bit of a wild ride for me. There was a week at the very beginning where I liked my secondary characters more than my main character but since then I've suffered from a severe case of the neglected subplot. I'm okay with this, though, because I can always go back and flesh out my subplots during edits but I have to resolve my main conflict one way or the other by the end of the month. Next week I'll probably do a brief debrief before continuing on with the story of my summer.<br />
<br />
Right now, however, I'd like to write about something that's been bothering me this past week. Over the past few months I've felt the best I've felt about myself in a long time. I can wake up in the morning, look in the mirror (after I've showered, of course) and say to myself, "What a good looking, smart young man you are!" I've managed to do well in all of my classes -- even the one with a difficult professor. Heck! I'm writing a freaking novel! How cool is that? In addition to all that, I have a great group of friends that I have dinner with more often than not, even though I live halfway across campus. The best analogy I could come up with for how I feel/felt is Sassy the cat from "Homeward Bound." If you haven't seen "Homeward Bound" you must not have had a childhood. Anywho, Sassy nearly drowned after plummeting down a waterfall -- my grandfathers' deaths -- but was nursed back to health and is now back stronger and sassier than ever. (Believe me; I have my sassy days.) I'm homeward bound -- in the home stretch -- both for NaNoWriMo and this quarter. Soon I'll be home enjoying the comforts of family and real food. But something's missing. Where's Shadow the golden retriever?<br />
<br />
This past week I've felt as if something is missing from my life. I noticed that I've been listening to songs that have a powerful cathartic effect on me -- "Into the West" from "The Return of the King" soundtrack and "Fire with Fire" by the Scissor Sisters, to name a couple. I even dug out the slideshow I made for my high school graduation. It could be that I'm just anxious to get home and see my family but if my subconscious is honest with me, I don't think that's it.<br />
<br />
A few nights ago I had a dream with a meaning as clear as lake water. A certain well-known YouTube violinist/dancer came to my school to perform. After her performance she decided to hang around the dorms for a few days to get to know people. For some reason, she took particular interest in me. We became friends and would sit around eating apples as we chatted. Things never progressed beyond that. Even though she's quite a bit older than me I still find her to be a very attractive young woman so I was confused as to why my subconscious wouldn't capitalize on such a fortuitous situation. As a boy I woke up disappointed; as a friend, happy; as an individual, restless.<br />
<br />
I may just be shoving words into the porcupine's mouth, but I definitely feel like that dream means something. Even if it has no meaning, it made me analyze my friendships and think about what it is I want from them. I feel like an ass typing this, but most -- if not all -- of the friendships I've formed since coming to college are supplementary to my studies, meaning, I use my friends and the adventures we have as a method to blow off steam built up in the pressure chamber that is my Computer Science class. That isn't to say I don't genuinely care about my friends because I do; it's just that if it comes down to a choice between spending an entire Saturday working on things I want to get done or going to Vancouver with my friends, I'll choose to lock myself in my room with a bag of potato chips until I've finished whatever it is that I wanted to get done. I'll dispense with the hypothetical pretenses and just say that this is exactly what happened last Saturday (11/23). But apparently, working nonstop on Japanese homework, Computer Science homework, a study abroad application, and 2,117 words for NaNoWriMo from 11:30am to midnight wasn't enough, because I stayed up until 1:30am writing this blog post.<br />
<br />
As much as I ended up getting done, it wasn't without much deliberation that I declined the invitation to Vancouver. The reason, I think, goes back to that dream I had a few nights ago; what do I want out of my friendships? Could it be possible that I'd like something more than just eating apples and chatting? It's possible but my conscious mind tells me that's not it. I think what had a larger impact is this: "I have trust issues."<br />
<br />
I keep my own <i>true</i> feelings well guarded not because I'm afraid somebody might hurt me but because I fear that my feelings will hurt someone else. It makes absolutely no sense, I know, but because of this I find it very hard to trust anyone but my family and a few of my closest friends from high school. Yes, I will tell someone -- you, the reader of this blog, for instance -- personal details about myself but it is very likely I'm only doing so because it's something I've already incorporated into who I am as a person and don't think should really matter to anyone else. Sometimes it does. It's not anything I wouldn't tell <i>any</i> of my friends, it's just a matter of who wants to know about it. You're still reading this blog so I would hope that you give a ripe banana about what I'm writing. If not, eh, that's your choice.<br />
<br />
Another of my trust issues -- and perhaps one of the more irrationally understandable ones -- is that if someone gives me any reason whatsoever not to trust them, I will tend not to, especially in situations where serious injury is possible, such as being a passenger in a car. If I know the driver has a history of less-than-intelligent decisions, I will automatically feel uncomfortable no matter how safe of a driver they actually are. I don't quite know how I developed these trust issues but they're there. Maybe it has something to do with the Minnesota Vikings.<br />
<br />
So what am I missing? I have no idea. Maybe it's my family. Maybe it's friends that I don't spend enough time with. Maybe it's a trustworthy companion like Shadow I can share more than just smalltalk with. Maybe it's that character in my story I just killed. Maybe it's something completely different. All I know is that if I'm going to sit around waiting for some famous, attractive girl to walk up to me and hand me an apple it's going to be a long wait. The sad thing is, though, that might be what I'm waiting for.<br />
<br />
Current NaNoWriMo Word Count: 43,047<br />
<br />
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br />
<br />
I started working on a new sonnet but because I'm posting earlier than usual it didn't get finished in time. Perhaps I'll post it later this week.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
If you're in the United States, I hope you have a wonderful Thanksgiving! Enjoy the food and the company of your family and be thankful for all the things in your life that make you who you are -- both the good and the bad, the triumphs and the failures, the known and the as of yet unknown. Happy Thanksgiving! Until next time. -NLD<br />
<br />
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Liked this post? Didn't like it?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Leave some feedback and let me know why! I'm always seeking to improve.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Thanks for reading!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Unpublished material, ©2013 Neal Digre</span></div>
SimulatedANealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05819079706975976858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-530187666294124480.post-9190090582506213572013-11-20T16:05:00.001-08:002013-11-23T13:37:17.465-08:00A Lahar of Tea and Fruit SnacksThe blog post that has been twice postponed is finally flowing into your eyes, carried from my keyboard to your screen by a lahar of tea and fruit snacks. My summer was far too busy for me to write about the entire thing in one post so I'll just cover my summer classes and save the rest for a later post.<br />
<br />
I returned from my grandmother's house -- bustling with friends and family stopping by with cards, condolences, and hot dish -- to an empty house but for the one remaining cat of the two that had made the long, hot journey out to Washington and the last and oldest of the three original cats I grew up with. It was hard those first few days being back: to still find Frisky's hair on everything; to not hear her at 6:00 in the morning, saying, "feed me." But Midnight -- my brother's cat -- was there to fill the six o'clock silence.<br />
<br />
After learning to close my door at night, I woke up around 7:00 most every day. I would feed the cat before I poured myself a bowl of Honey Bunches of Oats; most mornings I barely had time to pour the milk before Midnight had inhaled her canned food. After showering, I would do a few chores around the house: watering the flowers, picking lettuce for my lunch or sweeping the kitchen floor. At 8:41 I would load up my backpack and head out the door to drive the 28.4 miles to school for my 10:00 class. Why leave over an hour early to get someplace that takes 40 minutes,max to get to? because I'm the type of person that expects to be delayed by traffic driving through one of the least densely populated areas west of the Cascades and east of Puget Sound; I'm the type of person that thinks it'll take twenty minutes to walk from the parking lot to my classroom; I'm the type of person that has to be 20 minutes early anyway. Somehow I managed to make it to class on time. When my classes were done for the day I'd drive the 28.4 miles back home, do my homework, fry myself an egg or make half a box of Kraft Mac 'N' Cheese, proceed to eat it all in one sitting and then sit in a fake-cheese induced stupor watching television or YouTube until I went to bed around 11:00.<br />
<br />
I found that having an entire house to myself suited me. Apart from the freedom it imparted, it was good to know that I'm capable of taking care of myself for an extended period of time. For the first time in my life, I had to go to the grocery store and get my own groceries -- not just the snacky stuff I keep in my dorm room for when I'm too lazy to go to the dining hall -- <i>actual</i> groceries. By no means did I go crazy with the pots and pans but I experimented with a few cornerstones of cooking. For instance, I'd never cooked my own eggs -- let alone Eggs in a Basket -- but by the time my mother returned home I could fry or scramble eggs with the best of the mediocrities. It's a great feeling knowing you can go without your mother or a dining hall for a month and not DIE. In addition to providing myself with the basic necessities of life, my time alone provided an opportunity to gauge how well I manage my own time. There wasn't anyone to remind me to do my homework or take out the trash; I must be okay at the whole time management thing, though, because the pile of Snickers wrappers never got over four inches high and I didn't fail any of my classes.<br />
<br />
By far my favorite class from summer quarter was "Tolkien's Imaginary Languages." In addition to learning to read, write, and speak Elvish, the morphology of Dwarvish, and a few Black Speech words, I learned (almost) the entire history of Middle Earth. Not only was it a language, linguistics, and history class but also an art and literature appreciation class. This fusion of everything I'm interested in made it the best class I've ever taken, made better by the brilliant professor that taught it. Of course, I already knew how brilliant he is because he was my professor for "Intro to Russian Civilization" -- the prerequisite class I took in the Spring. In our stuides of Tolkien and his universe we covered everything from the origin of orcs to the unknown origin of hobbits; from Gandalf's real name to Saruman's Orcish one; from Beowulf to the Kalevala; from Tolkien's illustrations to his personal life; from the Creation of Middle Earth to the current Age of Man. It was on the Creation of Middle Earth that I did my final project. Middle Earth and the wider world of Arda were brought into existence through song; I decided to compose that song using Tolkien's "Ainulindalë" from <i>The Silmarillion</i> as a guide. I would never use GarageBand again largely because of it's uncooperativeness when it comes to details like 16th note triplets, instrumentation, or sound levels but it was nice (to begin with) for someone like me that had never composed a piece of music before because I could just mess around and listen for what sounded good. I will probably never compose another piece of music -- that's probably a good thing -- but it was a fun experience and I got an "A" for it so BAM!<br />
<br />
My professor for the Tolkien course also taught the Morphology class I took. While I think much of that class went in one ear and out the other, the material must have hung around long enough for me to do well on the tests. Irregardless (that's a Morphology joke, by the way), it was a fascinating class and I am very glad to have taken it.<br />
<br />
The other Linguistics class I took -- Sociolinguistics -- was far less interesting. Sociolinguistics is an intriguing subject but the professor failed to improve his performance from when I had him for "Intro to Linguistics" during spring quarter. He's the nicest little old man you'll ever meet but he is incapable of teaching a class. He's one of those professors where you think the class might be better if he didn't rely so heavily on videos but you're not sure so you're glad he does because you don't want to listen to any more of his mind-numbingly boring lectures. The best part about that class was his eclectic wardrobe; I never knew if he would show up to class wearing the tweed suit and clip-on bow tie he wears during the regular school year or a tie-die t-shirt, ripped khakis, one of those jackets with the leather strips hanging from the sleeves, and an old bandana to top it all off. Some days it felt like I'd missed the memo about "hippy day."<br />
<br />
As a "for fun" class I also took "Beginning Windsurfing." I may revisit windsurfing in a later post but I don't want to spend too much time on it right now because this post has gone on long enough; I'll just say this: holy crap was it a workout. <br />
<br />
Current NaNoWriMo word count: 32,010 words<br />
<br />
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br />
<br />
I know this is a poetry blog but I'm changing things up a bit; instead of a sonnet, I've posted the final project I did for my Tolkien class. After all, music is but a more pure form of poetry. Keep in mind that I used GarageBand (aka the crappiest software for composition ever), that this was my first attempt at composing ANYTHING, and that I had absolutely no idea what I was doing. You have been warned.<br />
<br />
I must also mention that some parts may sound familiar. I borrowed bits from the movie soundtracks partly because I was running out of time but mostly because I wanted a recognizable song associated with a certain character or scene to represent the creation of a particular race of beings (elves, men, hobbits, etc.). <br />
<br />
Before you follow the link to my project please PLEASE read at least the first section (up to page three, paragraph 2 in the link I've provided) of Tolkien's Ainulindalë; if you do, my composition should make a little more sense and not seem as bad as it is.<br />
<br />
READ THIS BEFORE FOLLOWING THE LINK BELOW!! ---> <a href="http://tolkienguide.narod.ru/promet/Ainulindale.pdf">Tolkien's Ainulindalë Text</a><br />
<br />
<a href="https://soundcloud.com/neal-digre/ainulindale/s-3xu8i">Sound Cloud: Tolkien Final Project -- Ainulindalë</a><br />
<br />
I hope you enjoyed this week's post. I'll be back next week with -- I hope -- the rest of my summer and maybe even a brand new sonnet. Until then, have a great week! -NLD<br />
<br />
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Liked this post? Didn't like it?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Leave some feedback and let me know why! I'm always seeking to improve.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Thanks for reading!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Unpublished material, ©2013 Neal Digre</span>SimulatedANealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05819079706975976858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-530187666294124480.post-2724093085003470642013-11-13T14:56:00.001-08:002014-08-02T14:40:33.966-07:00A Sudden Storm of NaNoWriMo<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">I would have liked to get caught up to at least the beginning of the current quarter but when I think about how busy my summer was, that's not going to happen. As busy as it was, my summer didn't involve powerful emotions like those associated with the loss of a cat or grandparent. Without those emotions to fuel the wood stove of creativity I find it more difficult to write about my own life. In addition, NaNoWriMo has been sucking a lot of my time, energy, and words. I still want to do justice to a recapitulation of my summer, though, so I'm going to postpone that tale until next week... or whenever I get around to writing it. Instead I'll just give an update on NaNoWriMo, post a sonnet and call it good for the week.</span></span><br />
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">Here I am, in the middle of the second full week of 1667 words per day and I'm barely hanging on to the bullet train that is NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month). This is my second year doing NaNoWriMo and my second year deciding on a story at 11:30 pm on October 31st. It was a bit of a slow start but now that my plot has clicked in my mind things are moving along. But I don't want them to. Coming up with plot has never been a problem for me; where I struggle is in description and character development. But trying to work on what I suck at can be problematic when NaNoWriMo's only purpose is to get words on the page -- a lot of them. Whether they're total crap or not makes a rat's fart of difference but I as sure as taxes better make my word count for the day or things of a terrifying and inexplicable nature will happen. So when it comes to deciding between sitting here for an hour struggling with a paragraph of description or blazing ahead and leaving the essence my story far behind, I choose the latter. I have to remind myself that NaNoWriMo isn't just about writing a lot of words, it's fighting through a paragraph of description here and there; it's closing all seventeen of those YouTube tabs and opening up a blank document; it's, for one month, devoting yourself entirely to something most people would have to be crazy to do (oh wait... never mind) while at the same time not forgetting to eat, do homework, go to your job, talk to family, acknowledge friends, etc.; it's getting better at the process of writing -- if not writing 50,000 words then maybe 35,000 or 3,000. As long as new words are being created and a story is being told, I've succeeded.</span></span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">Current Word Count: 20,394 </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Apart from spending time with family and friends, one of the things I miss most about Minnesota is a good ol' Midwest thunderstorm. Living in the Seattle area ensures plenty of rain but very little thunder and lightning to accompany it. Even though my first trip (of two) back to Minnesota this past summer was only for a few days, the storm gods answered my prayers.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The wall of wind hits first, shaking the trees to within an inch of their life. Some can't handle it and soon many small branches and a few larger ones litter the ground. Inside the house, looking at the chaos through a pane of glass, it's nearly silent; only the muffled rustle of one hundred thousand leaves brushing against one another as they whip back and forth and a faint whistle coming through the crack under the back door can be heard. Then there's an intense flash of light immediately followed by a sonorous boom and the soft tinkle of dishes in the cupboard. When I step outside the wind whips at my t-shirt, trying to whisk me away along with thousands of leaves that were too weak to hold on. I stand firm, exhilarated by the darkening sky pierced by bent batons of light conducting the cacophonous roars of one hundred angry giants. The wind soon dies down but is succeeded by a deluge of rain. I stand under the overhang watching the rain fall in heavy sheets. Before heading back inside I step out from beneath the overhang long enough to get my hair just wet enough so that droplets of water can caress their way down the side of my face and the back of my neck. Once inside, I sit at the kitchen table sipping a hot cup of tea and listening to the placid pitter-patter of heavy raindrops overhead and the rumble of distant thunder.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Summer Thunderstorm</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Divine one blissful thunderclap so few</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Allow to crash upon in silent waves:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Omnipotent applause. As here with you</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I lie not even clouds obstruct my gaze.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Auroral lightning flash afore our m<a href="http://aroundthesun-travel.blogspot.no/p/blog-page.html" style="color: #cccccc; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">i</a>nds</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Moreover blinds excessive sense absolved </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">By ribbons of torrential rain and winds</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Around us gust the only ones involved.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Immersed in tides far more than falling tears,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Now drowned beneath euphoric hearts entwined</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Beyond tornados twirling fate in peaceful years;</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Eternal dark dispelled by flames mankind.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Within this flood forever snug and warm</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I watch this passing Summer Thunderstorm.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I can't promise anything but I'll do my best to get, at the very least, a recapitulation of my summer classes written for next week's post. Until then, I'm logging off. There's a story to be written. Have a great rest of your week! - NLD</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Liked this post? Didn't like it?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Leave some feedback and let me know why! I'm always seeking to improve.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Thanks for reading!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Unpublished material, ©2013 Neal Digre </span></div>
</div>
SimulatedANealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05819079706975976858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-530187666294124480.post-88101830518085007652013-11-06T14:29:00.002-08:002013-11-06T14:29:32.310-08:00The Truth: A Change of PlansOkay, time to try this for the third time. I started out writing
this post about how I thought that in my two previous
posts I favored one grandfather over the other. I intended to use that as a springboard to write about truth but less than two
paragraphs in, I couldn't think of anything else to write. I realized
that I couldn't think of anything else to write because the truth was illuminated in a light shade of blue and a single
keystroke; I deleted most of what I'd already written and started
afresh with a new angle and an anecdote to prove my point. I got three and a half paragraphs in
before Blogger decided it hates me. I mean seriously, how does hitting the undo button delete everything I'd written in a <i>previously</i> saved draft of the blog? Thank God I'm not doing something stupid like going to school for Computer Science in order to get a job intimately working with computers for the rest of my life. Oh, wait... that's exactly what I'm doing. So here I am writing this post for the third time after four episodes of Archer, a thousand more words in my NaNo Novel, a peanut butter sandwich and a few shots of tequila (just kidding, Mom).<br />
<br />
And if you're worried I've forgotten, I'll conclude the epic saga, "The Past One and a Half Years of My Average Life," next week but I just had to change my plans a little bit to work this out with myself. Once I'm done with my introspective/philosophical blogna and if you didn't stop reading after that terrible pun, there's a sonnet waiting for you. Okay, now I'll get to what I actually want to write.<br />
<br />
While it is
true that as a child I was always more excited to see my paternal
grandparents because they lived so much
further away and, hence, I didn't get to see them as often, that doesn't mean I cared about one grandfather more than
another. But it was on this uncertainty, in addition to the fact that I didn't have the same reaction when my maternal grandfather died as when my paternal grandfather died and a few sentences that didn't make it into the final drafts of my previous posts, that I tried to base my argument. Even though I edited out those sentences for a reason, they lingered in my mind and festered. I asked myself, "Could it really be true that I cared about one grandfather more than the other." So with this post I set out to seek the truth. Like I said, my failed attempts at writing about it was enough evidence for me but I'll break the rest of it down for you.<br />
<br />
My primary internal conflict came from the fact that I didn't (and still haven't) really cried for my maternal grandfather. But there are many variables -- variables that have nothing to do with the amount of love I had for each grandfather -- that go into my tear ducts. When my paternal grandfather passed away I was also dealing with the struggles of my first quarter of college: making new friends, papers, exams, projects, upcoming finals. In comparison, I wasn't in school at the time of my maternal grandfather's death so the absence of that stressor made things much more emotionally manageable. But because the only other major loss in my life was accompanied by a total mental breakdown I thought that because I didn't experience one when my maternal grandfather passed away meant I somehow cared about him less. I now realize that the mourning process doesn't work like that. It's different for each person; for each loss. Another variable is that I was unable to attend my maternal grandfather's funeral but was able to be there for my paternal grandfather's. Being surrounded by hundreds of other people mourning the loss of the same person makes the tears flow a little easier, I think. Not only that, but my dad and the rest of his family have always been very emotionally strong people. They were there to be strong for me, allowing me to lean on them and cry if I needed to. When my mom's father passed away, she was stretched emotionally thin as it was having just celebrated her eldest son graduating from college and moving out into the real world; I had to be one of the ones she could lean on. Similarly, when I went to spend a few days with my grandmother before going back to school for summer classes, I felt that I needed to be strong for her.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
There may come a time when I subconsciously decide I no longer need to be strong and will allow myself to cry -- to mourn -- for my grandfather, but that aspect of the mourning process just hasn't come for me yet.<br />
<br />
Both of my grandfathers were very, very special people. Certainly, they each had their own areas of grandparenting at which they excelled and personalities that made them very different people but I loved them both the same and couldn't imagine what my life would be today if I hadn't had the privilege of knowing them both for the extraordinary men they were.<br />
<br />
<div>
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br />
<br />
I was also going to write something philosophical on the subject of truth but I decided these last few posts have been long enough already. In place of eight extra inches through which you'd have to scroll, I wrote a sonnet: <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Traveling East <br />
<br />
The sun traverses cobalt skies but in<br />
Its rightful place is standing still, while ants<br />
Below the earth are swept away by wind;<br />
Among them spiders try to hide but can't,<br />
By ninth commandments they abide; a bright-<br />
Eyed youth perceives it all through outcurved lense;<br />
The contradicting paths of those upon<br />
An anthill layered deep with sands of sense,<br />
That coalesce to form one paragon --<br />
Unknown except to those of passage earned; <br />
Now traveling west to where we'll never come;<br />
It seems so far away yet if he turned<br />
Around, it's little more than twelve steps swum.<br />
Though multitudes of things the bright-eyed youth<br />
May never know, he only writes the truth.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
If you only want to read this blog for the poetry (I'll completely understand if you do), from now on just skip down to the second section. I sincerely hope, though, that you'll start/continue to read the journal section of my blog.<br />
<br />
That's all for now, so have a great rest of your week and if you're doing NaNoWriMo, don't give up!<br />
- NLD<br />
<br />-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br />
<br />
Today would have been my Grandpa Benson's 87th birthday.<br />
Happy Birthday, Grandpa. You are profoundly missed more than I can express.<br />
<br />
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br />
<br />
Liked my writing or blogging skills? Didn't like them? <br />
Leave some feedback and let me know why! I'm always seeking to improve.<br />
Thanks for reading!<br />
<br />
Unpublished material, ©2013 Neal Digre </div>
</div>
SimulatedANealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05819079706975976858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-530187666294124480.post-26462327118770254982013-10-30T14:02:00.000-07:002013-11-03T10:44:11.390-08:00A Plate Full of FoodWhen I left off in the last post I was a glowing ball of optimism having made it through my first year of college. Fall quarter tore me down faster than my cat could finish a plate of canned cat food but I built myself back up into more of the person I want to be. I know I will never live up to my own standards, though, so the best I can do is be the best me I can be. I'll start by trying to edit out these tacky sentences... maybe not.<br />
<br />
To rewind the tape a little bit, Spring quarter went as well as any 18 credit quarter can. Serendipity got me into two of the classes and helped me decide what I (maybe) want to do with my life. When I registered for spring quarter I was already looking ahead to summer quarter, specifically, a class on J.R.R. Tolkien's imaginary languages. Not wanting to miss an opportunity to geek out and get three credits for doing so, I based my spring schedule around fulfilling the unnecessary prerequisites for the Tolkien class. I say unnecessary because I could have just asked for an instructor override, but taking the prereq class sounded like a good idea, you know, just to make sure. Poor research on my part led me to believe that the Tolkien class was a linguistics class with a linguistics class prereq. I later learned -- thankfully before registration -- that it was being offered through the Eurasian Studies department and therefore had one of two Eurasian Studies classes as a prereq. So, naturally, as any person wanting to take a class on Tolkien's imaginary languages should, I signed up for "Intro to Russian Civilization." The linguistics class I originally thought was the prereq still fit into my schedule, though, so I signed up for that as well. Then I got to thinking... Linguistics is cool. Majoring just in Computer Science doesn't sound stressful enough. What if I double majored? That's not enough, though! Oh no! I've always wanted to take some formal classes on Creative Writing so I'm not just some blubbering idiot talking to himself on the internet! Triple major? Heck yeah! Computer Science, Linguistics, and Creative Writing! It'll be great! I can be the modern Tolkien! ...<br />
<br />
No.<br />
<br />
I've contented myself with a double major in Computer Science and Linguistics. The linguistics and computer science classes I took were full of interesting material but the professors' inability to teach made things slightly less interesting -- unless you count that one time my linguistics prof left his lecture-microphone on when he went to the bathroom. Glorious moments of awkward hilarity aside, the Russian Civ class and my honors class -- a study of the Dominican Republic -- were the highlights of spring quarter. It was nice for a change not to be studying the Greeks or the Romans and actually learn something about a culture that I haven't known since the fifth grade. <br />
<div>
<br />
As great as spring quarter was, it ended with a plate full of food and a piteous moan. The week before finals I got a text from home letting me know my cat wasn't eating or drinking. <i>It's just a little blockage in her system. It'll pass through by the time finals are over.</i> At least that's what I kept telling myself so I could make it through my finals without rushing home once a day to make sure nothing had happened. After finals were over, after staring in amazement at all the crap that had accumulated in my 183 square foot dorm room, after hauling it all down six flights of stairs and after somehow managing to make it all fit in the same car that brought a considerably less amount of crap nine and a half months ago, I sat anxiously in the passenger seat of the car not knowing what to expect when I got home. <br />
<br />
I still hadn't gotten over the pangs of sudden emptiness that hit me every time I thought about my grandfather no longer being alive. I didn't want to lose the cat that had been such a large -- and I mean morbidly obese, large -- part my life for the past fourteen years; the cat whose every purr sounded like the soft hum of a motor boat on the other side of the lake, rushing to shore before the rain started to come down; the cat that in those early years (before she became old and cranky) would lick my ear -- inside and out -- until I squirmed away from her; the cat that I named "Frisky" but turned out to be not so frisky unless it was to make her escape and thunder her way back to one of her favorite hiding spots; the cat that had been with me through sickness and health, three moves and a divorce, the good days and the bad. And now -- at the end of a long school year -- I was faced with the prospect of losing her.<br />
<br />
When I got home she was definitely thinner but beyond that she seemed almost herself, that is, arthritic and reclusive. Between unpacking and organizing my crap then repacking some of it for a trip to Seattle for my brother's college graduation I had very little time to find out what was actually going on with Frisky. I went to bed each night not knowing. In the morning, even before I cleared the sleep from my eyes, I'd go into the next room and check under the bed where she liked to lie. She drank very little and ate even less but hung in there, leaving me with a choice. Though choices are never as simple as we make them out to be, my choice boiled down to either believing she was in enough discomfort to justify putting her to sleep or leaving her with a bowl of water and a bowl of food and hope that when I got home in two days the house didn't smell bad. I chose the latter, clinging to the hope that she'd get better.<br />
<br />
I left not knowing if when I got back my cat would still be alive. She was; my grandfather wasn't. My Grandpa Benson had been unwell for many months and his condition had worsened in the weeks leading up to my brother's graduation so we knew it was only a matter of time before the long, hard-fought battle with cancer and Alzheimer's ended. Perhaps it was because we knew it was close to the end or perhaps because I lost my other grandfather not seven months prior, but in that crowded, noisy restaurant where it's hard for my mom to hear her cell phone go off, I knew from the moment I saw my sister's eyes -- unblinking, fixed -- on our mother, that something had happened. My sister's white-knuckled index finger bending upward two times, beckoning towards fresh air, was merely confirmation.<br />
<br />
I don't know if it was because I had already been through it once and became a stronger person or because I didn't have the stress of school looming over me or a combination of both and then some, but I never once cried for my maternal grandfather the way I cried for my paternal grandfather; I tell myself it wasn't for lack of love -- I loved them both equally as much -- but it certainly wasn't for lack of tears. After getting home and finding Frisky still alive but the bowl of food as full as when I left, I was yet again faced with a decision. I'd be leaving again in two days, this time for a five day trip to Minnesota so that I could spend time with my grandmother before I had to be back at school for summer classes. Still clinging to the hope that Frisky could get better, I took her to the vet. She hated car rides, trips to the vet, and anywhere unfamiliar to her, yet I wanted to put her through all three for a hope as thin as she'd become.<br />
<br />
The vet said he couldn't be absolutely sure of anything without a $100 x-ray but said there was likely a blockage -- possibly a tumor -- that had obstructed Frisky's digestive system. Not wanting to spend $100 to know for sure, $150 on an operation if it was just a blockage and my last hope if it was a tumor, I left the veterinary clinic with a terrified cat and a nagging conscience. So later that same day I put Frisky through two more car rides to get her a $73 shot of steroids they said might clear the blockage.<br />
<br />
That night, she drank quite a bit and even ate a little food. As I sat on the bed petting her, listening to her purr as loudly as she ever had, I was hopeful she would make a full recovery. <br />
<br />
The next morning -- the morning of the day before I left for Minnesota -- I didn't go in and check on her first thing, as I'd done all the previous week. Instead, I ate a bowl of Honey Bunches of Oats and even brushed my teeth afterwards. When I finally went to check on her I found her lying crumpled up on her side, out from under the bed -- away from her favorite spot. She was still breathing but nothing in all the world could have prepared me for what happened next...<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
By 1:20 that afternoon, she was gone.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
A lot happened between when I found her and 1:20. After a great deal of muffled sobs so my suite mate wouldn't hear, I finally got it all typed out but then transferred it to a separate Word document. I may share the details one day, but not today. It still hurts too much. </div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
After wrapping her diminished, limp form in a fresh towel, it was time to take her for one last car ride to the Veterinary Clinic I know she would have hated.<br />
<br />
Was it the multiple stressful car rides to the Veterinary clinic? Was it the shot of steroids? Could it have been prevented if I hadn't done what I did? These are the questions that filled my mind on the car ride home and several hours afterward. The only answer that'll keep me sane is, "things happened the way they were supposed to happen." All her adult life I jokingly complained about how it sounded like a herd of elephants every time she galloped down the hallway. Well, she finally went on that diet I'd been talking about for the last ten years and I think it was all that reserve fat that kept her alive as long as she was. Had she been any thinner to start with, she very well could have passed away while I was still at school or while I was away for my brother's graduation. She didn't. Whether it was what I did in an attempt to save her that killed her, I don't know for sure, but what would I have done if she hadn't died? Could I have left her alone for five days while I was away in Minnesota? No. And I don't know if I would have felt better or worse if I had taken her to the vet to be put to sleep but it doesn't really matter because everything happened the way it was supposed to happen.<br />
<br />
The only guilt I feel is that I cried so much (and still do, apparently) for Frisky -- a cat -- when I haven't shed much more than a few tears for my grandfather -- the man that taught me to hunt and where to find the best fishing, the host of the best Fourth of July weekend I've ever had and probably will ever have, the farmer that taught me there's so much more to life than a lucrative harvest and new toys or clothes. Life is playing with the old, faded toys your mom played with when she was a kid; it's hard work and dirt on your torn jeans; it's doing what you love with a dog (or cat) at your side; it's making popcorn balls on New Year's Eve; it's a plate full of homegrown corn on the cob and tomatoes sprinkled with sugar; it's family; it's flying the airplane you built through silver, opaque, occasionally turbulent clouds until you could touch the sun but then coming back down for a landing because that's where all the memories are.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgghQ2dab75iZ5svCxJX2Dm7NDAIdQpvzHNiH2Dn8eQ70Ej-HxrhYLS9G1FU9o0O8EMnyDzcekwB4swwj94k7Xl_oQVi1eQxf2YBpFgJQs2gwDf0UZOKsENBNRIanqeVRthgcp22cJHh9JG/s1600/IMG_1104.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAta70D8ws4Ef3tWXOdNZMTYzB6m9NVGIQPiSP6aNZxbFHqMTxr_orUWRTwFlELVIL41TjPCtLiDmhTOH9-XeYJMkdcmw3yUkV6yPW_CNxB6XT2CRJLXCtmPjW4TPmzwsx0kk4RyRzBOub/s1600/IMG_0010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAta70D8ws4Ef3tWXOdNZMTYzB6m9NVGIQPiSP6aNZxbFHqMTxr_orUWRTwFlELVIL41TjPCtLiDmhTOH9-XeYJMkdcmw3yUkV6yPW_CNxB6XT2CRJLXCtmPjW4TPmzwsx0kk4RyRzBOub/s320/IMG_0010.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<img border="0" height="236" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgghQ2dab75iZ5svCxJX2Dm7NDAIdQpvzHNiH2Dn8eQ70Ej-HxrhYLS9G1FU9o0O8EMnyDzcekwB4swwj94k7Xl_oQVi1eQxf2YBpFgJQs2gwDf0UZOKsENBNRIanqeVRthgcp22cJHh9JG/s320/IMG_1104.JPG" width="320" /></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicGhcCKTnSERzZKvHOmvug2DNRzzqf1exRyRbddAG-5u1DkKHWnIpxLwii0mVpLsClXBmz0qeCLU6OodZnT-XNUqZ79GuwBfXPkpnbrqiWB4GV4KCcjNeIs5DOsvR0sb4_X1MOfv08FvXU/s1600/IMG_1698.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicGhcCKTnSERzZKvHOmvug2DNRzzqf1exRyRbddAG-5u1DkKHWnIpxLwii0mVpLsClXBmz0qeCLU6OodZnT-XNUqZ79GuwBfXPkpnbrqiWB4GV4KCcjNeIs5DOsvR0sb4_X1MOfv08FvXU/s320/IMG_1698.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- <br />
<br />
Once again, I wrote far more than I thought I would. I promise next week's post will be happier. I just have to slog through some of this emotion-y stuff before I can start writing about topics that are a bit more fun. Unfortunately I don't have a sonnet for this post but expect one with next week's blog, in which I (hope to) finally catch up to the present goings on in my life.<br />
<br />
As always, thanks for reading! And have a safe and happy Halloween!<br />
-NLD<br />
<br />
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br />
<br />
Liked my writing or blogging skills? Didn't like them? <br />
Leave some feedback and let me know why! I'm always seeking to improve.<br />
Thanks for reading!<br />
<br />
Unpublished material, ©2013 Neal Digre<br />
<br /></div>
</div>
SimulatedANealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05819079706975976858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-530187666294124480.post-25221216599572906712013-10-23T17:30:00.002-07:002013-11-05T22:45:45.114-08:00A Long Time ComingThis post has been a long time coming. Though I have posted here and there it never amounted to more than a few sentences. I wanted my first post in a long while to be a good and proper post and not some feeble, four-lined "I promise to post something soon," devised in the company of a lazy 18-year-old's excuses. I'm 19 now - almost 20. And I'd like to think these past one and a half years have made all the difference in the world.<br />
<br />
One and a half years ago -- when I was too busy studying for tests to write (ha) -- I told myself that once AP tests were over I'd get back to writing. My AP tests came and went, yet I did not resume my writing. My high school graduation fell upon me but I didn't capitalize on any of that stuff called emotions and write a single line of poetry; I didn't write during the brief respite before I started packing my life into boxes for the move out to Washington -- even when long forgotten memories made an appearance in the form of ties I wore to dances or doodles drawn in the corner of my biology notes. Not long after, most everything I'd known in the first 18 years of my life became nothing more than a fading horizon in my rear view mirror.<br />
<br />
I, oh yes, I was a soon-to-be college freshman and nothing in the world could scare me... Until the night before move-in happened. To my utter and complete amazement, life, the real world, and my own inhibitions hit me like a sack of alarm clocks fired from a high powered water cannon. Drenched in my own excitement, anxiety, optimism and misgivings I somehow made it through my first few weeks of college as most college students somehow do: hyped up on caffeine while drowning themselves in new people, new clubs, new classes, Halo 4, Angry-German music, and exploring the new freedoms of living away from their parents -- all just to keep their mind off how someone as stupid as them could possibly think they belong in this academic world of people far more intelligent than them.<br />
<br />
As time went on I found a group of friends and started to fall into a comfortable routine of class, schoolwork, YouTube, Doctor Who, sleep, repeat and, on rare occasions, venturing beyond the confines of my dorm room to try those crepes or Russian dumplings I'd heard so much about. Classes too became easier and less stressful with each passing week.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
While many of my fellow freshman found enjoyment in getting drunk in a crowded apartment where nobody knows you and no one would remember you anyway, I became a moderately content, introverted student, finding happiness in reading, YouTube, and even a little writing. Still, at the back of my mind discomfort lingered; I somehow thought I was incompetent and too stupid for college. I pushed it down, though, and simply set to work on my next six hour Calculus assignment or five page paper.<br />
<br />
I attempted NaNoWriMo and managed to balance 39,204 words with classes and homework before I was dealt one of the shittiest hands in the history of a college freshman. I was feeling confident I'd win NaNoWriMo, having just broken 39,000 words the weekend of Thanksgiving. The day I got back to school, though, I got a call from my dad saying my grandfather had just passed away. Being so far away it didn't seem real at first. I felt sad, yes, but the grief didn't really hit me. All my other insecurities did: the pent up feelings of incompetence, a three hour Calculus exam, finals in two weeks. All this in addition to the first major loss in my life made that week after Thanksgiving a struggle. I coped, though. I made plans to get back to Minnesota for the funeral, I studied the best I could for my Calculus exam and tried to focus on one thing I needed to get done at a time. Very slowly, though, it sunk in that I just lost my grandfather -- a grandfather who always found his greatest joy and pride in his grandchildren and made us his highest priority at the many Christmas and Easter gatherings, school concerts and plays, weekend visits and family reunions, never forgetting to bring his many quirks I found so endearing and an endless stream of stories. I began to feel down but it wasn't anything I couldn't handle. That is, until the five page honors paper I hadn't started yet was due in 24 hours. At ten o'clock the night before it was due I began to experience minor panic attacks and by midnight I couldn't even look at the Word document let alone think about writing three more pages without shaking uncontrollably and feeling like my head and throat were collapsing in on themselves like some old building that had just been dynamited. I called home and between many tears my mother helped me calm down and decide that the best thing to do was try to forget about school for the moment, email my honors professor and ask for an extension on the paper. Even so, I didn't get much sleep that night. But I lived through it.<br />
<br />
With many tears, hugs, stories, and laughs I made it through my grandfather's funeral and -- with more tears, an emergency nine o'clock pm ride to Mom's house, a lot of encouragement, hot chocolate and hard work -- made it through my finals, specifically, the two three-page papers for my honors class.<br />
<br />
Though Winter Break provided respite from my worries, it did not dissipate all the apprehensions left over from Fall quarter. In the days leading up to re-move-in, I again suffered from small panic attacks and couldn't stop worrying about homework I didn't even have yet, in particular, the first paper I'd have to write for my next honors class. The first few days were hard -- much harder than the first few days of Fall quarter. But through the process of finding ways to cope with the stress I found a new group of friends -- a group of people that accepted me into their friend circle and made me feel like I fit in when most everyone else had already found their niche by the fourth week of the previous quarter. While a friend group I felt comfortable with was helpful, it wasn't enough; I decided to get some counseling. I came out of my first session with the desire to not only control the stress in my life to prevent another breakdown but to <i>understand</i> the stress that inevitably will invade my mind and body no matter how much I prepare for it. The only way to do that was to understand myself.<br />
<br />
The honors class that at first was so stressful soon became an aid to philosophical thought, introspective thinking and my favorite class of Winter quarter. In addition to trying to understand my mind I took up climbing and swimming laps in an attempt to understand my body. With the development of good habits and a fresh view of the world, school, and myself I made Winter and Spring quarters some of the most fun and rewarding moments of my school career thus far. It wasn't always easy but I worked hard and took life one thing at a time, all the while developing an appreciation of self. I do what brings me happiness, and if that includes other people so much the better, but if what I want to do on a Friday night is plop my butt down with a good book and cup of tea, well, by golly that's what I'll do. Even those activities that are frustrating and taxing -- like de-bugging a program or rock climbing -- provide their own brand of happiness; the euphoria when I finally get a program to work or finally ascended that route I'd been working on for a week is worth it. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I've learned to not be afraid of what lies a mile ahead of me and instead focus on what is at my feet; it is only by one step at a time that we as human beings may traverse great distances.<br />
<br />
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br />
<br />
When I started writing this post I intended to cover everything from the end of my senior year of high school to the present. As I kept writing and writing and writing, though, I realized it was becoming far too long for a single post -- and I haven't even gotten to the sonnet! -- so I decided to break it up into two posts.<br />
<br />
This is obviously a transition post for me. I'd like to transition from this being just a blog of poetry and more a blog of my life, thoughts, and experiences, which is more of what I intended when I originally created the blog but I fell into focusing just on the poetry. My journals will probably not be this extensive in the future but I'm definitely going to try to do more of it than I previously did, even if I don't have a sonnet to accompany it. It is my hope that by doing so I will get into the habit of writing a little bit each day. <br />
<br />
I appreciate you having read this far and I only ask that you bear with me a little while longer so as to allow me to introduce the sonnet. It is the sonnet I wrote in the first few weeks of my freshman year -- the first sonnet I'd finished since before graduation. As a part of the "getting to know your floor mates" process, we were all asked to put something up on the bulletin board that describes who we are using the acronym SIVS (no it's not a disease). It stands for Skills, Interests, Values, Strengths and this is what I wrote:<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
SIVS<br />
<br />
Like pleasant murmurs heard from humblest rill,<br />
Regard such discourse that which I observe;<br />
Peripheral voice in silence speaking still<br />
With skill and care, for that what's said preserve.<br />
Expanding knowledge -- this is my pursuit;<br />
Of land, of lore and more, of me, of thee,<br />
I'll learn such forms from those far more astute.<br />
Reveal perspectives few would deign to see.<br />
Conflagrant suns emit creative light<br />
Upheld by values deep engrained. Should dark<br />
Pernicious clouds obscure this inward sight<br />
A runnel new shall wash away the blight. Hark!<br />
Amidst all these, a multitude of strengths --<br />
Conviction. Aye, for this I'd go great lengths.<br />
<br />
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br />
<br />
Liked my writing or blogging skills? Didn't like them? <br />
Leave some feedback and let me know why! I'm always seeking to improve.<br />
Thanks for reading!<br />
<br />
Unpublished material, ©2013 Neal Digre </div>
SimulatedANealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05819079706975976858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-530187666294124480.post-69659882678037070302012-04-11T18:15:00.000-07:002013-11-05T22:45:20.654-08:00The Happy HareI hope everyone had a great Easter! I know it's a bit later than when I usually post but that's just because I had to finish writing this one today. Due to the rather rushed circumstances this may not be my best work so it should provide ample opportunity for any constructive criticism you care to offer. As far is my Easter weekend goes, it was permeated with food, family, more food, sleeping, procrastination on my homework, and my inability to concentrate long enough to write something so I'd say it was a semi-successful weekend. I hope I'll be able to regain some semblance of a normal writing schedule this week so I won't have to do this whole last-minute business again next week. However, the ever approaching AP tests may put a damper on my desire to write so heads up I might have to put a hold on the sonnet writing for a few weeks. Even so, I plan to post at least a little bit about my week and perhaps some of my non-sonnet previous work. Until then, I"ll just focus on writing as much as I can before my brain becomes more fried than a cheese stick at the Minnesota State Fair. I hope you enjoy this week's sonnet. I spent a whole three hours on it!<br />
<br />
I'm not quite sure how I wrote what I did... I guess I was sort of looking to write a spin-off of my sonnet from a couple weeks ago but it kind of turned into its own entity. Enjoy!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
The Happy Hare</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Abiding laws intrinsic compass ere</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Ne'er bear the faultless fleshy hare amiss.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Resilient dances round all thicket snare</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Beholden hare in certain snug abyss.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Moreover dare should happy hare collide</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
With hapless stray. Now seeking sustenance</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Whereto both boxing kindred feud aside</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This teeming fount of wholesome corpulence.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Survive? the two beseech aforesaid such</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Existence cheap, albeit one, indeed!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Far more than any other. Winner clutch</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Subsistence such yet not in that of greed.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If hitherto I writ effect dismay</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In you, let pass, tis naught but Nature's way.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Completion date: 4/11/2012</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Unpublished material, ©2012 Neal Digre</div>
SimulatedANealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05819079706975976858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-530187666294124480.post-78859273547376179392012-04-04T14:48:00.001-07:002013-11-05T22:44:42.780-08:00If Thou Art Perfect<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
It's that time of week again! I know I shouldn't make excuses for not writing much this week, but... I have been rather busy "preparing" for a large Calculus test. I had one section today, I have another section tomorrow and then two more sections next week; so I might be rather busy... watching videos of Hitler freaking out when he gets his AP Calculus test results. But I actually have to do some writing this week because I'm to the point where I'm writing week to week and don't have any sonnets stockpiled. Ooo the pressures on! ...not really. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
One thing I would like to mention, though, is please, please, please leave a comment or constructive criticism for me either on this blog, the Facebook page, or you could even tweet it @nealdigre. My main intention in creating this blog was to get a little feedback so I can get better at this whole sonnet writing thing, so any comments you have would be greatly appreciated!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I guess I don't have much to say about this sonnet other than you may have to brush up on your Greek mythology in order to catch all the allusions. I hope you enjoy it!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If Thou Art Perfect</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If thou art perfect as yon Daffodil</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Affixed aside the glossy crystal pool;</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If thou art perfect as set sails instill</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Triumphant monarch's incidental rule;</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If thou art perfect as created wings</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Of Crete produced for man where gods have flown;</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If thou art perfect as a thousand kings</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Aligned, exalted mortals each their own; </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If thou art perfect as Discordant's pet</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Crown prince of Troy: the apple arbiter</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Of greatest due; if thou art perfect</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As gods; invoke thy thunderous harbinger.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Mere mortal art thou full of vanity?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
By God! Imperfect thou wert meant to be.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Completion date: 3/28/2012</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Unpublished material, ©2012 Neal Digre </div>
SimulatedANealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05819079706975976858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-530187666294124480.post-81836745516472633952012-03-28T14:05:00.000-07:002013-11-05T22:45:30.894-08:00A StrayI'm sooo ready to be done with high school! These past few weeks have gone by extremely slowly and I"m just ready to move onto the next stage of life. I realize my blogging skills about my life are rather dry so I'm going to try and work on my life-blogging skillery. The main focus of this blog, though, will always be the sonnets, so if you'd rather not even bother reading what I have to stay about my weekly doings you can just skip over this first paragraph. I wouldn't be offended in the slightest. Now, on to the sonnet.<br />
<br />
This sonnet is rather self explanatory as to how I came to write it. Enjoy! <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
A Stray<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
A suckling cat appeared upon my porch.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A stray. I ran for fear it was aggrieved.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Her only ailment, though, now I've perceived</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That trembling ember in the fading torch</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Of those exhausted yellow eyes that scorch</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My soul with warmth, a mother's heart bereaved...</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Forgotten. Paw for pittance not received,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And she moves on – the Nature of my porch.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
With utter ease my hand did slam that door</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Because I did not want that cat to stay.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Oh God! Oh please! Protect her I implore!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I watched her haggard form just slip away</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Beyond all sight, beyond all time. No more.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Still I leave scraps of food for Her – a stray.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Completion date: 3/17/2012</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Unpublished material, ©2012 Neal Digre </div>
SimulatedANealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05819079706975976858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-530187666294124480.post-22319783708546725302012-03-21T14:50:00.000-07:002013-11-05T22:44:02.941-08:00Compendium<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
It's been a busy week for me so far. I had a research paper due on Monday and that was a bit of a time vacuum so I didn't have too much time to write sonnets. Even so, I got one written so I'm pleased about that! Other than that this week has been pretty normal for me so far. Oh! Yesterday I read a fantastic book that I highly recommend: <i>Marco and the Red Granny</i> by Mur Lafferty. She is also the host of a podcast I listen to - "I Should be Writing" - so it was fun to support her by buying her book. She mainly discusses writing fiction (something I would like to get into a bit more). I would like to start work on a short story some time in the near future, but for the present I'll just keep on with my sonnets.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
I wrote this sonnet as a bit of a description for this blog... maybe? I don't know, I just wrote the dang thing. I hope you enjoy it!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
Compendium</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
To find the place concerning sonnets look</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
Inside thy soul, thy heart, thy astral mind.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
Therein confined discernment freed which shook</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
Apart somatic chains your self aligned.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
This modest quest commenced by those who dare</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
Disgorge the thoughts concealed and locked away;</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
Assemble purpose mid these lines to share</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
And ne'er apply the black and white to gray.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
Although innate prismatic turns inflame</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
The misty path, the trail thus chosen, scribes</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
Alike know not from whence Ideas came -</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
The spring that spouts elixir you imbibe.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
Unearth this place; so write of gods, of queens, </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
Of slugs, of man, and all that's in between.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
Completion date: 3/4/2012</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
Unpublished material, ©2012 Neal Digre </div>
<br />SimulatedANealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05819079706975976858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-530187666294124480.post-74956557408625641712012-03-14T11:28:00.002-07:002013-11-05T22:43:33.816-08:00Broken Backspace Key<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; tab-stops: 45.8pt 91.6pt 137.4pt 183.2pt 229.0pt 274.8pt 320.6pt 366.4pt 412.2pt 458.0pt 503.8pt 549.6pt 595.4pt 641.2pt 687.0pt 732.8pt;">
<span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">It's Wednesday and I had a short day of school! What could be better? Well, maybe better if I had actually written a little bit this week, but due to the substantial amount of homework I had... that didn't happen. I've also just had the general feeling of laziness which isn't conducive to writing sonnets, either. Thankfully I have a few more sonnets in reserve.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
A couple weeks ago my backspace key broke. It pissed me off so much I had to write about it. Enjoy!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
Broken Backspace Key</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
O backspace key, convenient there you rest<br />
Within my reach - one move abrupt - my hand<br />
Then hammers down; deletion I demand.<br />
The tainted words to which we all attest,<br />
O blesséd backspace key you did arrest;<br />
And all derision else-ways they'd withstand<br />
Is nothing more than thought in our command.<br />
O backspace key, too much we did request.<br />
O broken backspace key - abused, devoured,<br />
Engulfed in humankind's calamity -<br />
Expose the caustic core. Your wreckage scours<br />
Acidic sludge; reveals our basest plea<br />
Afflicted neath impressions thus gone sour,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
Compressed upon you broken backspace key.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
Completion date: 2/29/2012</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
Unpublished material, ©2012 Neal Digre </div>
<br />SimulatedANealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05819079706975976858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-530187666294124480.post-78359781907299746932012-03-07T13:34:00.000-08:002013-11-05T22:43:08.105-08:00One-hundred WordsI'll just get right to the sonnet this week.<br />
When I finished the two sonnets before this one I noticed that the word count was hovering around one-hundred, so I decided I wanted to try and write something with exactly one-hundred words. This is the result:<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 0in;">
One-hundred words</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 0in;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
One-hundred pleasant words in silence spoke</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
Among dear treasured friends. One-hundred truths</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
That faintly yell of chords they may invoke;</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
No ballad soft e'er dim the eyes of youth.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
One-hundred discordant reflections: each invent</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
Their own. The mirrored souls of all compose</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
This garden God has sown; discern the scent</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
Of florid blossoms wan in their repose.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
One-hundred senses Earthly bound nest high</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
Above all time and space. Amid this place</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
Still buried deep, so deep beneath the sky,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
Unearthing injured figures – your embrace.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
My love for thee as free as soaring birds,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
I dare not limit these one-hundred words.</div>
<br />
<br />
Completion date: 2/25/2012<br />
Unpublished material, ©2012 Neal DigreSimulatedANealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05819079706975976858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-530187666294124480.post-25889391322455079372012-02-29T06:57:00.000-08:002013-11-05T22:42:44.148-08:00Concerning Sonnets, Et ceteraTwo posts in one week? Whoa! Well, I thought it would be a good idea to kick off my first week of blogging with a bang! Also, I'm posting again today because I want to dwindle down my stockpile of sonnets. I've decided I'd like to keep my posts a little more recent so there's not an entire month between when I finish a sonnet and when I post it, so this should help with that.<br />
<br />
This sonnet is one that I wrote in response to finishing my first sonnet. I don't really want to give too much of my intended meaning away because I feel that takes away from allowing you to interpret it in the way you choose; but I must mention that with this sonnet I wanted to capture the process of writing a sonnet (at least for me). You probably already noticed this but I based the name of my blog on this sonnet. Enjoy!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 0in;">
Concerning Sonnets, Et cetera</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
I chose persistent battle locked amidst</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
Fermented words. Dismember judgement; hack</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
And mangle every prized appendage. Black</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
Repugnant blotches splattered outward didst</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
Obscure the pure quixotic view betwixt</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
The portal's lustrous pulse. Oh flee this fact:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
Without a key my way shall ever lack</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
Admittance through this passage ere affixed.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
Ye evil tendril wrapped around my quill,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
I have no fear if thou lead me askew.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
For solely through the writhing wretched will</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
The gleaming gate be opened up anew.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
To pass, to see, to be; in me instil</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
A fervour felt by only those who flew.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
Completion date: 2/22/2012</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
Unpublished Material, ©2012 Neal Digre </div>
SimulatedANealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05819079706975976858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-530187666294124480.post-68799132331231709052012-02-28T14:18:00.001-08:002013-11-05T22:42:20.541-08:00As this august gem strikes the briny seaThe first post! Most importantly, thank you for reading this! This is something I've had a lot of fun with so far and I hope you get as much enjoyment from reading my poems as I get from writing them. Secondly, I want to use this first post to outline what each blog will contain. I will always try and start out like this - just talking about my week, the poem, the inspiration that went into the poem, and anything else I feel like talking about. Then, of course, will be the sonnet. Following each sonnet I will put the date I completed it. I'm planning on writing each sonnet three or four weeks ahead of when I post it, so I think posting the completion date will be helpful. I was a bit anxious to get this first post out there so I'm posting it today, but in the future I will try and post every Wednesday. If you have any questions, suggestions, or just want to let me know if you enjoyed the week's sonnet PLEASE feel free to leave a comment. I've rambled on about this long enough. Now to my description of this week's sonnet.<br />
<br />
The week before Valentine's Day in my AP Lit class we studied the love sonnets of Elizabeth Barrett Browning. As something fun, I wanted to write my own love sonnet to share with the class. What started out as just something fun to do for a few extra points has turned into so much more than that. And now, without further delay, I present to you my first sonnet of many.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
As this august gem strikes the briny sea<br />
<br />
As this august gem strikes the briny sea,<br />
Enveloped, constant churning, frantic! - lost;<br />
As loathsome, trifling, freakish blights accost<br />
Almighty men encouraged well to flee.<br />
As frightened children conquer vile debris;<br />
As crimson sunrise reaches out to most<br />
Who feel the lurid, icy sting of frost;<br />
As those amended shed light unto me.<br />
As fallible as I may be - oh Stay! <br />
A many mortal thing amid us may ensue<br />
Yet salty tears we spill are washed away.<br />
No woe nor rime shall ever more subdue<br />
This feeling causing two in one to say,<br />
With all my being, always, I love you.<br />
<br />
<br />
Completion date: 2/12/2012<br />
Unpublished Material, ©2012 Neal DigreSimulatedANealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05819079706975976858noreply@blogger.com0