July 28, 1998
Cool Work Day
Gradually, I realize that all people who are good at something, at one time, just wanted to be good at it. That all true killerbes were once wannabes, and that without that stage of reality, things don't get to be. Kinda coming to grips with the fact that I thought I did badly on the mountain bike path, but that I actually probably did okay and that I learned a lot. That's not a bad thing.
What really amuses me is that, for the same reason as a year ago I've, yet again, managed to forgo all contact with Clarion West. Yesterday was the last reading by authors that are teaching at the boot camp. Still scared of being seen as a wannabe, I guess, in my own head. It's hard to get rid of all of the fear.
Work was most of the day today. A sprint to catch up and do the things that have to be done, the design things that have to be done in order to do the writing. I have an addition to a set of classes that I'd whiteboarded the other day and with this other push, the additions are haunting me because they're not going to get done any time soon unless I get a breather between documentation sprints.
A sure sign that I'm typing too much, but sometimes it's hard to close the door and wrestle with the word recognition system. Harder than just typing it all in, as the thoughts come flowing quietly from my depths they just are, when it's my fingertips guiding them in. When I try to speak them, the shape of the spoken word is always so different to my mind. I don't know why.
We had a breather for lunch. Went to a tiny Chinese restaurant with real Chinese food, and it was filled with Chinese off for lunch. They had the strip noodles chow fun, they call it, they're plump and wide and chewy, better than normal noodles for frying with stuff and getting the taste. So we had that with shrimp and pork and a chicken satay on the side. Excellent, simple, quick, and nourishing. Dessert was Taiwanese shaved ice, with sweet red and green beans with passion fruit syrup over it all. Cool and clean and satisfying. The restaurant itself was hot because it had no air conditioning, just a big fan that got air flow through the place. The guys in the kitchen had to be dying from the heat.
Yeah. Seattlites wilt in the heat much faster than most. It's in the high 80's today, and we hid in the office until about 7 p.m. just to stay in the coolness of the air conditioning until dusk brought a little relief.
We were cowards. We also had a lot to do, so I did and did until I burnt out around 6 p.m. and then I hung around on-line with a bunch of folks until John was done with what he had to do. We then went home, reacclimated to the heat, and finally grilled hamburgers outside where it had gotten significantly cooler. As we ate 'em we watched the Iron Chef and a contest over crabs again, some kind of local crab with really long legs. Between the two chefs, they had a million yen's worth of crab for them to use. And the things that they made were just astonishing, like a crab gratin with fugu roe in the gratin. Astonishing stuff.
John then went to empty the trailer of bark, and then he and Fezzik went for a walk. I read David Gremmell's Legend. Or at least started it and enjoyed the characterizations therein quite a lot. Good guys that are human, bad guys that are noble. It's interesting to see as a mix. It seems very much a modern SF novel.
Sleep was very slow in coming, as the night was so hot. So the little red lights showed well after midnight when I last looked at 'em.
My dreams were of a woman who masqueraded as a man in a troop of forest bandits that lived and died by the bow. She was cool and cruel and completely ruthless in the aim to survive. She is an excellent shot and very savvy about her strengths and weaknesses. A woman good at long-range weaponry is always just a bit better off than the lasses that try the hand-to-hand. She and her gang were also recruited by a desperate general in need of bowmen to help in a siege against him.
If you've read the book, you might see the elements from it.
But as part of the defense, she seduces a prince of the city, who is also a captain in the army, and through a bit of nasty trickery gets him locked outside the Walls one night. He gets killed, and then it is found that he was a traitor to the City. And that she was crying as she saw his body displayed by those that both used him and despised him.
The City did not fall, and she survived the war with a pardon from her service.