Summer Time...And the Writing's Easy

11 p.m., buzz buzz, says my phone, Writing Time! 

Hello blogosphere. I know that through many broken promises and nights when I have chosen video games over writing I have broken the hearts of whatever readers I once had. Forgive me, oh jilted readers, accept my humble apologies and read my ramblings again! For real this time, I'm back


I have several reasons for being back this time. The first reason is that I was encouraged by Professor Huth, veteran of five classes with me, to blog. Earlier today Professor Huth wrote to me to give me my grade on my final project for my Extended Narrative class (I got an A!) and said, "Have you considered starting a blog?  The kind of writing you’re doing might lend itself toward that, as well as force you to keep writing regularly and give you a readership." Why yes, Professor Huth, I have considered starting a blog. What I have not considered is writing consistently since 2008...but no more! Ever since coming going to college I have tried to expand my writing horizons by focusing on fiction and poetry so as to shore up my weak points. I recently changed all that in my Extended Narrative class where I went back to my native form: Autobiography, Memoir, or as some call it, Blogging! After the positive response I have received from friends, class, professor and, most difficult to please, myself, I have decided that it is time to get back into blogging.


The second reason is that "Write everyday!" is the #1 piece of advice given to writers everywhere (next to "show don't tell" of course). "If you make time for your muse it will come to you!" Well, time to put that to the test. 11 p.m. every day this summer I would probably be doing one of several things:

1. Playing a video game
2. Watching a movie
3. Lurking on social networks
4. Stumbling on StumbleUpon...and stumbling...and stumbling...and...
5. Picking my nose
6. Having an existential crisis
7. Having an identity crisis (Am I a writer, psychologist or missionary? Why am I even in college? Who am I?)
8. Staring at the ceiling
9. Becoming preoccupied with wishing I were more productive
10. Doing anything but writing

Change of plans. This summer I will be doing none of those things at 11 p.m. This summer my phone will vibrate and making annoying noises and display the words Writing Time! in accusatory letters until I begin to write. Hopefully I will actually keep up with this and not break any hearts, yours or mine, ever again.


Reason three: FaceBook! I love the fact that my blog gets imported to FaceBook and I hope that this will cause more comments and readership than regular blogging could give me. Also, maybe some people who don't know me quite so well will get to know me really well and suddenly decide to become my best friend. You never know what great things blogging could do through the power of social networking.


The fourth of the reasons is that this summer I have an internship at the Acadia Hospital (http://acadiahospital.org/) this summer and I need to journal about that experience after each day of field experience. Not only will the internship be awesome for me but I think that some other people might like to hear about it as well. It is likely that I can't share everything on my blog, but what I can share I will. Sharing my experiences with all of you, my beloved readers (I still believe you exist, just like Slenderman), will make it more interesting to write about and will keep me faithful to journaling about it.


The fifth and final reason why I will write this summer is simple. I like myself. A lot. A chance for me to just write about myself and be as cocky and arrogant or self-conscious and self-deprecating as I want is just plain fun. It has been years since I blogged consistently, but this summer I hope to revive that tradition.


Again, I know that you, like me, are skeptical that I will keep my promise this time. It is true that I may not blog every day but I am committed to writing every night. I may spend the time working on other projects such as journaling for my internship or some fun writing that I may come up with, but if I really am writing every night I will end up blogging at least somewhat consistency.


Anyway, I hope you're as excited as I am for this, and I hope that more than three people read this. To obscurity and inconsistency! Huzzah!

Life Update and Other Fun Junk

So, I just realized that this blog has 9 followers. As epic as that is I won’t be satisfied until I have…OVER 9000! But all memes aside, I’m not sure who at least 4 of you followers are, and for that reason I must update you on who I am. Or more ominous and cool sounding, who I have become…

Most of you know that I am a junior writing major at Houghton College and also that I am engaged. You not all know that when not at school I now “live” in Bangor, Maine and that I am also now a double major in psychology. And with that brief summary I will jump to the present and where I currently am. Right now I am on break from Houghton and am in Bangor. The biggest thing on my radar this break is that Jenny (a.k.a my fiancé, a.k.a. long list of loving terms and compliments that will make you puke and hate me as you are reminded of just how alone you really are) will be returning from two months in India on Wednesday. Doesn’t she look awesome in her sari, henna, and surrounded by little India children? Dang, I love that chick.

It may make me pathetic, but two months without her has been really difficult. We had spent the last two summers apart, but that was before we were engaged. Now that we’re engaged I just feel that much more whiny at the thought of being separated. The good news is that she’s coming back on Wednesday and I didn’t start blogging until now so you won’t have to hear too much whining.

But as to my return to blogging. This feels good. This feels like going to the gym and working out or something. I kind of have to force it a little, but it feels great when I’m doing it, and even better when I’m done. Also, I’ve had a revelation. You how video killed the radio star? Well, Facebook statuses killed the blog star. That is to say, I lost my blogging mojo because of Facebook. Once upon a time I lived in an Eastern European country and was filled with angst and frustrations that I could only get out through writing on my blog. Now I live in Western New York and I am filled with angst, the difference is that now I get it out through posting cryptic Facebook statuses.

But what is more valuable, Facebook statuses or blog posts? I’m going to have to argue for blog posts here. Not only does blogging exercise my writing muscles and make a log of my life, it is also just more thoughtful and interesting than most Facebook statuses.

With that being said I think I’m done for the night. I’ve done my nightly writing workout and now I’m not sure what to write about. I mean, yeah I’ve been doing stuff, I just don’t feel like writing about it right now. As always comment if you’d like. I love human interaction. In fact, it makes living inside your computer feel less claustrophobic.

Until I write again,
Chris

Hey there, I’ve missed you

Hello blogosphere, hello blog, hello world, goodnight moon. It has been a long time since I last blogged. In fact, it’s 2011 and I have yet to write a single thing on here. I know, I know, the pain is unbearable. Forgive me. Pardon my rudeness, but I’m sure you’ll get over it.

But why, you ask, am I back? What could you, oh great blogosphere, have to offer me? I’m not entirely sure. I think that’s something I need to figure out. The other day I was looking through my old blog posts and I had a realization—This is me. My old blog posts are primitive, edgy, raw, original Chris Clark.

This semester I have been taking an extended narrative writing class and have been writing a memoir. At the moment my working title is “My Badass Memoir: Reflections on How I Got This Cool” because I think that’s what it may ultimately be. Or maybe it will just be all about sex and rock and roll and my obsession with the female race. I don’t know, I haven’t decided yet.

Anyway, I’ve been struggling quite a bit with going back to my native form after 2.5 years of experimenting with essays, fiction, flash fiction, nonfiction shorts, and even, ick, poetry. When I first started as a writing major I decided that nonfiction prose was something that I had already mastered through my blog and that I should spend some time broadening my horizons by learning to write some different forms and genres, and this commitment has served me well. I am now semi-capable of writing coherent fiction, and slightly more proficient at flash fiction. I even churned out a poem or two, though my class didn’t understand that in one poem I meant “fuck” as a verb and not an expletive and I’m not sure if I can get away with the fact that I referenced Flight of the Conchords in another, especially because it was about breasts.

But back to my main point. I have now come back to this autobiographical memoir-esque prose, the form that birthed me and, as a dear writer friend of mine might refer to it as, “the language I cry in.” Now that I have come full circle and am again exploring that subject most fascinating to me, myself, I find that I’m not sure I know how to do it anymore. Perhaps I never did. Yet here I am again. 410 words just poured out of my soul in an uncensored stream of natural writing. This is the fountain of youth which I seek. Yet I cannot capture this in my memoir work for my class. Perhaps I am too afraid. Perhaps there are too many distractions. Perhaps I simply do not know.

My memoir work for class continually seems to come out of me forced and pedantically dogmatic, almost as if I am trying to prove to the world that my account of my life is the only correct way to view it. As if in 10 pages I can attempt to sum up my existence, print it out, and hand it in for a grade. I think I am afraid. I know I am afraid. I’m afraid to admit that I am afraid.

Back in the golden age of this blog I would write posts that would reveal everything about me. I would hide nothing. But now each and every blog post I write gets imported to Facebook and, because of the nature of our ridiculous culture, I am friends on Facebook with people that I simply would not consider friends in real life. In fact, I am Facebook friends with people that, behind the iron curtain of my mind, I could only think of as bitchy or dickish. By the way, if the increased profanity of my blog surprises you remember that I have aged several years since I last wrote consistently and that now, more than ever, I am aiming for genuineness in my writing. Again to my main point. One good way to illustrate which friends I’m talking about would be to watch the comments at the bottom of this post. Those currently considering commenting on how I am terrible for saying both “fuck” and “bitchy” in the same post are exactly the type of people who I would classify as bitchy and politely ask to fuck off so I can continue my writing.

Due to the quality of these Facebook friends I have for a very long time felt that I may not be willing to blog anymore because I don’t want to be that vulnerable with people like that. It’s true that I could disable the import of blog posts to Facebook or that I could simply tone down my writing, but if I do that why am I even writing anymore? Why write only to hide it? Why write only to water it down?

But now I have decided that once again I must return to the Blogosphere in order to find myself. I must once again write whatever I feel like, comments enabled, and just live it. I need to write without thinking about a grade or a critique group. I just need to freaking write! I need to return here, to my roots, and become a writer once again.

What does it mean to become a writer once again? I think it means several things, but the first and most important I must write here. I have already written and deleted this paragraph 3 times because I can rationalize it away. “This post is too long.” “You don’t have to do that.” And worst “If you write that here you might actually live it.” That last thought is horrifying. What I am speaking about is cutting out distractions. This summer I was uncomfortable confronted with the realization that if I want to take my writing seriously I need to live a writer’s life. Right now I’m more of a gamer. But what do I want to be, a writer or a gamer?

The first way my mind wants to frame this question is to say “Do I want to do something that is just fun and games or do I want to do something that is hard, heart wrenching, and often unrewarding.” Yet then there is that little jerk in the back of my mind that whispers, “Do you want to be a consumer or a creator? Do you want to rule a fantasy world or be a truer lens to the real one?” Out of a burst of conviction I have just uninstalled all the games I had on my computer, (Assassin’s Creed, Combat Arms, and Vindictus. Quite a party to say the least) a gesture I can only hope will last.

So maybe this is my way of triumphantly announcing my return to the blogosphere. Maybe you are as skeptical as I am that I am actually returning. I mean, it would certainly fit my pattern to write a few mediocre posts and then drop back into obscurity and meaninglessness. But all I can say is that this time I hope for more than that.

Until then I encourage your comments, bitchy or otherwise (I promise not to tell you to fuck off), and I hope that you enjoyed, or were at least as enthralled by, this post as much as I.

Eternally your starving artist, struggling memoirist, writer wannabe,
Chris

In Praise of Combat Arms, or How I Spent My Summer Vacation

Hey there, my loyal few who still read my blog, and those hello to you, that random person who is reading this (probably from googling something about Combat Arms). I know I haven't blogged in a while but, well, I just don't think my life is quite as interesting as it used to be. I'd like to blog more often though, so let me tell you about my favorite new pastime. In February I was hanging out with some of the guys and my friend Bryce was on his laptop. Sounds of ricocheting bullets and exploding frag grenades floated to my ears. "This is awesome!" he told us, "It's a free-to-play multiplayer online first person shooter!" Because of his enthusiasm and because when watching over his shoulder I saw that this actually looked like a pretty high quality game I decided I would try it out in my free time. About a week later I downloaded it and fell in love.

As this picture will tell you, it's epic. I mean, everyone knows that cool guys don't look at explosions (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sqz5dbs5zmo), but not just anyone can walk away from an explosion while ridiculously armed to the teeth! So basically I love this game. You have over a hundred weapons to choose from, as well as a very customizable character. And you could play this game for years without spending a single cent, and even the people who do pay to play don't get such an unfair bonus as to make it no fun for the rest of us.

One of the other things that I really like about this game is the community. As the United States government knows far too well (Yay conspiracy theorists!) the best unifier is a common enemy, and the Combat Arms community has that. Combat Arms has a slight problem with hackers. Now, I'm not tech savvy so I don't really understand how they do it, but there are always hackers in Combat Arms doing all sorts of unfair and terrible things. This has led to all sorts of groups and movements within the Combat Arms community, the largest and most respected being the CBL, or Community Ban List. This group takes reports and evidence regarding players who had been accused of hacking and then mark players as either clean or dirty. I recently joined the CBL and am really enjoying talking on the forums in my free time.

Well, anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading about why I love Combat Arms so much. You probably didn't, but oh well, I can't think of much else exciting to write about. I think I'm going to start trying to write a blog post at least once a week from now on though, and not always about video games. Anyway, I must be off.

P.S. I'm not completely without ulterior motive in writing this post. Thought Combat Arms sounded awesome? Interested in trying it out? Well, Combat Arms is currently holding an event rewarding players who recruit other players, and also the players who are recruited (Info here: http://combatarms.nexon.net/News/View.aspx?boardNo=101&contentNo=008GJ). If you join Combat Arms be sure to mention that I, KuriJaVaba, recruited you. Add me as a friend in game and I'd love to play together.

I Defy the Power of Boob!

I must begin this post as I have many times before, with an apology. I realize that many of you may be offended by my use of the term "boob" in reference to breasts. In fact, some of you might even be offended by the fact that I would even write about breasts in the first place, but bear with me. The use of the term boob is mostly for laughs and I do actually have a serious point in here somewhere so keep reading and hopefully you'll laugh and think.

So, I defy the power of boob! What does that mean? Well, let me tell you of my last great skirmishes with the kingdom of breast. I am a guy, and as everyone knows guys generally feel pretty drawn to breasts. This is why as a Christian guy who thinks that he should keep his eyes from staring at any breasts but his wife's I say things like defiance and skirmishes and fun terminology like that.

Once upon a time last week I went to a renaissance fair in Colorado, and as anyone who has been to a renaissance fair has probably noticed they are pretty kinky places. Something about reenacting a time before the age of political correctness seems to make everyone's minds turn to sex. So that means most of the women are "wenches" and wear these tight bodices that cause their breasts to mount an escape attempt over the top. Besides the fact that this looks terribly uncomfortable for the boobs in question it is also somewhat uncomfortable for me. So surrounded by this sea of breasts I made a decision-I shall defy the power of boob!

In our society the power of boobs are abused in many ways. The power of of boob sells beer, Axe shampoo, shoes, and anything else even slightly aimed toward men. Even Victoria's Secret, which I would think is primarily advertising to women, seems to utilize the power of boob to a great extent. So I decided that it might be a good idea to defy this power. If this is one of the most potent powers used in against my sex than it is my duty to defy them!

This is not to say that I am on a misogynistic rant and think that boobs are inherently evil. No, quite the contrary. I actually think that the power of boob, like all abused powers, has potential to be used for good. In fact someday I plan to completely give myself over to the power of boob as wielded by my wonderful wife. But until then I think this is a terribly abused power, more dangerous than nuclear weapons of mass destruction. Don't believe me? How many men throughout history have been effected by weapons of mass destruction? A couple million? A few billion? Not sure. How many men have been effected by the power of boob? Let's turn that question around, how many men have NOT been effect by the power of boob? Ummm, pretty much none. Not to be prejudiced, but I'm only talking straight guys here because I'm straight so I think we get each other.

So there it is. I think it is time that I began to defy the power of boob. In fact, I think maybe now would be a good time for you to join me in this little act of defiance. Let's all defy the power of boob! Let's not let it influence our purchasing choices, let's not let it be a factor in the women we go after. What if we were to forget about boobs and only focus on actual quality of product and women? Whoa, I think my mind just exploded. That would be a totally different world. Let's do it!

I hope you enjoyed my thoughts about boobs. I enjoyed typing the word "boob" sixteen times (yeah, I counted) because I'm still just that immature. If you thought this was awesome then please comment and let me know. If you thought this was terribly offensive and plan to hunt me down and cut off my sinful fingers so I can never type the word "boobs" again then I must also ask that you would comment and let me know. A little heads up would be nice.

Anyway, I must be off. I have to be up at 4 A.M. tomorrow morning to fly back to Bangor! Yay! Goodnight everyone!

My 100 Things Manifesto!

Hey everyone! There is nothing cooler for a college student to do then write a manifesto. This would be a lot cooler if I hadn't stolen the idea from some other people, but still, I'll feel cool. I have decided that officially starting at the end of Mayterm, but partly starting now, I will spend one year with only 100 possessions to my name. I originally saw an article about this in The War Cry or YS or something and thought it was so cool that I googled it, at which point I found out that it actually originated with another blogger, David Michael Bruno, who wanted to cut some of the excess out of his life too. (http://www.guynameddave.com/100-thing-challenge.html)

Now some of you may be wondering why I would do something like this. I am an infamous packrat with a love of buying trinkets and oddities only to throw them away or put them in a draw for 6 months, how is it even possible to limit to 100? Well, that's why I've decided to do this. When I cam to America for college I had 2 large suitcases, 1 small suitcase, and a backpack. I now can't fit even half my stuff in those original containers. I have more than doubled my stuff in two years! At this rate by the time I graduate I might need to have a whole second room just for my stuff. It's stupid, and it's oppressive, and it needs to stop! So I'm going to put an end to it. Starting (hopefully) today I will limit myself to no more than 100 things. Everything else will be dealt with somehow, thrown out, donated, given away, something. But I just need to to something.

So that is my challenge for today. I am sorting my things and keeping only 100. Now, before you think I'm truly insane allow me a caveat or two. I have a few things that I'm not counting.

1. The essentials:
Tooth Brush
Shampoo
Etc,

2. Books:
I will confine myself to only what can fit on my three shelf bookshelf (which counts as one of my 100), but whatever fits doesn't count. I just can't get rid of all my books, I need them for schoolwork and also just because I love books. Also, textbooks don't count to that limit or to the 100 item limit, I need textbooks even if I don't want them.

3. CDs
Similar to what I am doing with my books I will confine myself to what can fit into my CD Case (meant to hold 80) because if I get rid of all my CDs then I'll just download all my music and that leads to all sorts of ethical arguments and...I'm keeping my CDs.

Other than that everything, my bags, my nerf guns, my electronics, it's all counting towards my 100 things. This should be interesting...Wish me luck. I'll update my blog with my list once I've got it all sorted out, but until then,

Your inconsistent blogger,
Chris