insert lame/wannabe/clever title here

There are things one should not do if they aspire to be a writer. The best advice I can give you is that you should never tell anyone you want to be a writer.

Beyond that, it will certainly never impress the in-laws. Unless you have a cash advance for your next soon to be #1 New York Times best-selling novel in your hand they aren’t going to be too impressed.

The worst is the amount of advice you get about writing - “you should write at least 20 minutes every day. Even if its just crap. That’s what they say you should do.” They also tell people to tell writers to “write what you know.” What I like most about the kind of people that tell me these things is the massive assumption that I have never heard this pearl of wisdom until they were kind enough to grant it to me. THANK GOD! It’s a good thing you told me, cause up until now I've been wasting my time. HELLO! I fucking took 8^th grade English! I’ve heard it all before.

I should probably not get too upset about it though... That input would actually be quite handy if I'd decided to become a writer the day before I got that information.

The best responses come from people who also want to be writers. Just the other day I mentioned this to someone in a casual conversation.

I got this reply: “Yeah, I'm a writer too. It’s important for me to write because It’s so grounded in reality.”

Naturally, I asked him what sort of stuff he wrote about.

“Oh, I only write stories about my Everquest characters.”

And I’m not hating on geeks. I have plenty of geek in me. I could go on for hours about how NCAA Football 2005 is better than Madden 2005 (blasphemy!) or I could tell you that I beat Chrono Cross TWICE and was halfway through a third time before my disk was destroyed in a child related incident. I compose electronic music for gods sake!

I certainly provide more than enough fodder for someone else’s blog. Just pray I don't find you as I will kick your ass using classified ninja moves I learned from playing Chrono Cross and Roller Coaster Tycoon.

things that make me say argh! (vol. 1)

There are a lot of things that bug me, but there are some that make me so mad that my madness drives me to the point of screaming.

Internet fan sites that haven’t been updated in more than a year. Yeah, you’re a big fan.

People who refers anyone else as the “next Michael Jordan.”

When you explain something to someone that they didn’t understand, and then they lecture the next person they see about the same thing as if they were an expert on the subject.

Shoes (or any type of clothing for that matter) that need to be “treated” before they can be worn anywhere. It’s like buying an umbrella that requires the purchase of additional materials before you it will actually repel rain.

Shoes purchased at “Payless” that need to be treated before they can e worn anywhere. If its really that big a problem, I’ll just buy an extra 12 dollar pair of shoes.

Restaurant restrooms with signs reminding employees to wash their hands in sinks that are even more disgusting than the toilets.

People who say “billions and billions” in everyday conversation who don’t know who Carl Sagan was and why it makes me chortle.

People who use the word “chortle.”

People who use the word fancy as a verb.

Three letters: MTV. This whole network sucks. Every time I flip past it they are either playing a show involving one of the Simpson sisters. Or “Battle of the Sexes.” Note to MTV: Those letters stand for Music Television! None of those shows has anything remotely related to music. And screw you guys for thinking anybody wants to watch that shit. And an even bigger SCREW YOU if you watch those shows… unless you happen to be someone I like and then I’ll have to let that slide… then again, if you are someone I like and you spend any amount of time watching shows about Jessica or Ashlee Simpson then I can’t—by principle—like you anymore. I guess what I really need is a station that plays “Pimp My Ride” 24 hours a day. I can’t get enough of Mad Mike and all the other crazy cats over at West Coast Customs.

Individuals who have the nerve to say out loud that people who listen to NPR are actually better than people who don’t. As true as that may be, I think it behooves us to keep our smugness to ourselves.

People who use the phrase “Peace Out.”

Peace Out,

- N Blunderson

A few brief notes – I left out an important part of my anniversary story, only because it didn’t really fit with the tone of the piece that ended up on line. There was a draft that included what my best friend, with whom I work at Target, asked me what he should tell our co-workers regarding my absence. I told him to tell people I was having emergency penis reduction surgery on the basis that the truth was just too embarrassing.

worst year ever

February 13th marked an anniversary that I celebrate simply by being here. It was a year ago on that date that I was discharged from the psych ward, stepped out of the hospital, and felt the sun on my face for the first time in a week.

I had reached a point where everything was too much. Getting out of bed and facing the world was an unbelievable challenge. Depression and agoraphobia (to name just a few of my problems) had for several years been grinding away on any reason I might have to go on. My experiences in therapy were horrible, and medication was something I'd given up on several months before I realized that the only way out was to end it all.

I can't really explain why I didn't do it. It’s not something I can completely understand. There are people who know without a shadow of a doubt the reason I checked myself into the hospital as opposed to the alternative... but they are wrong. People try to say things like "I know how you feel," or even "you have so much to live for." Those are the two worst things you can say to a person like me.

In the hospital I became very close to the other people on my ward, each suicidal. Even though we could probably relate to each other better than our families and friends--no matter how well meaning--could ever dream of, none of us ever uttered the words "I know how you feel" to another. Because we don't and the sad truth is you can't unless you actually could become that person. All the empathy in the world still comes up short.

Telling someone "you have so much to live for" demonstrates a fundamental ignorance of the hell that is severe depression. Again I can't do it justice even if you've walked a mile in my shoes, but it is the sort of thing, hearing and thinking, that can cause one to deeply resent the "reasons" for living.

I know it sounds horrible. It’s a horrible disease.

Those first few weeks of freedom after being in treatment and under strict supervision are the worst. In a way its like being thrown back to the sharks. My own experience was completely miserable. The side effects from the meds were the worst. It takes a while to find the balance that is the best treatment, and until my doctors found that balance with me I had all sorts of problems. I shook horribly (My hands shake a little anyway... benign tremor) and when I closed my eyes to go to sleep I would have nightmarish visions that would cause me to cry out.

Not to mention the difficulty that is re-entering the family life. In those days, my wife was Atlas. I can't imagine the love and courage it took to get through those weeks that then dragged onto months and then even longer as my life took even stranger turns later in the year. I know that to this day she worries about my happiness, and goes out of her way to find and do things that she thinks or hopes will make me happy. Truth is, she is really all I will ever need. The fact that there is a person like her living and breathing on the face of this earth makes me happier than any directors cut of "The Evil Dead," polish sausage, or Madden 2005 ever will. That I am married to her is even better.

Going back to work was... at the time I was a level three at work, running a small team responsible for re-merchandising the store. That time of year is insane because every department is getting a post-Christmas reset. Things are changing around the store all the time, but this time of year they tend to be fairly dramatic and hectic. I had only been at work a few hours before I found myself locked in a bathroom stall, slicing my wrist with a box-cutter.

This was not a suicide attempt, nor was it a cry for help... I was in pain yet it was intangible. I needed something to hurt and feel the pain. Only, my blade was dull. So I went to the front desk, asked my boss who was there at the time for a replacement blade and went back to the bathroom.

The next day I showed my therapist my cut, and explained what was going on. He told me that the first few weeks really are the most difficult. More people than you would want to believe kill themselves in those first few weeks after their hospital stay. That I was making tiny little cuts on my wrist relieved him if anything. The fact that I was able to discuss it with him was a good thing.

My boggle partner on the inside had a hard time getting out of the hospital. Two weeks after we were set free I happened upon her obituary.

I offered to take a demotion at work and then spent the next few months in a strange limbo between sick leave and steady employment. Every time I thought I was ready to get back on the horse I'd suffer a set back. When I finally got back to it with all this baggage behind me I had a heart attack and nearly died at work. But that is a story I'll save for another time.

As I reflect upon this chapter in my life it would be an understatement to say I have mixed feelings. For better or worse I am here, one breath at a time. Life is still a struggle. I have my hard days and weeks. I am very lucky to be surrounded by the best people on the planet. My siblings and Parents really are the coolest people in the world. I love them tons. Pat has been an unwavering friend through everything. Keri. My wife, my love... And you wonder why I don't mind sitting through all 12 billion hours of "Pride and Prejudice" with you...

One year down. I wish I could say I was cured. Am I better than I was? Perhaps there are still wounds to heal, gaps to close, ground to cover and several more clichés of that nature. Personally I am a little exhausted from this past year. Although this was obviously the worst thing that happened, there was plenty other crap that followed. The good news is that even if this is a total shit year it will still be an improvement.

Happy Anniversary to me.

the news makes me so mad!

I am sooooo frustrated!

I should never ever read the news. Every time I do I get so mad I can't even get past the headlines. If I did I'd probably get even madder… perhaps to the point of violence, who knows? A perfect example was a headline I saw as I logged on to the Internet just moments ago. The AOL (yes I serve the beast) welcome screen read "no charges for Cosby."

That REALLY pisses me off. Why should rich and famous people not get charged for anything? The man already has money so why can't he pay for some things? It’s not fair. Or does he simply expect to get free stuff since he's so important? No charges. That sucks.

Another welcome screen headline I read had something to do with the US military developing robots for use in combat. I can barely type right now, that is how furious I am. They really will stop at nothing to keep gays out of the military.

Another “webline” (ooh that's clever) had something to do with "Passion" Vs "Harry Potter." This just bugs me. I’m tired of all this cross over bullshit to make a few bucks. Wasn't Aliens Vs Predator bad enough? ARGH! Although... I might pay to see a Passion vs. Aliens movie... Yes, I would. The theological implications alone are staggering. In fact, I going to put eight bucks aside right now just in case.

From CNN.com we get - "Luxury hotel to open on site of Hitler's Alpine retreat." Insert your own German/Nazi/Hasselhoff joke here.

From the Salt Lake Tribune - "U researcher helps determine age of oldest humans." I did that too once. It's in the book of world records, dumbass.

I tried to get a quote from the local rag (aka the Springville Herald) but all they have on-line is contact information. So I settled for a headline from the Daily Herald which is from the next town up the road. Their web address--I kid you not--is Harktheherald.com. Anyway, their headline read - "0218 coming Sunday promo." I have no idea what the hell that means. It was the top story, no less.

As a person who would like to be a responsible American I would like to stay informed. My only wish is that it wasn't so infuriating.

yet another joker named noodles

Up until a little while ago I actually believed I was the only person named Noodles. Even I can surprise myself with how pathetically naive I can be. Of course, I only go as Noodles online.

In real life I have a painfully normal, regular name. It’s Jeffrey, but I go by Jef. People ask me if that's really how I spell my name and I tell them "why the hell do you care?" or "Yeah, I don't need a lot and I want that F to go to someone who REALLY might need it." Of course the only people who ask me that question are people I work with at S-Mart (the soulless retailer that employs my sorry ass), not exactly a bunch of people waiting for the local MENSA meeting to start… Seriously, these are the same people who forced me to stop wearing t-shirts with funny jokes on the front because I grew tired of waiting for them to read them, moving their lips and sounding out all the words.

Not like I'm some super genius. I can't even spell, and I even went to a private school.

Noodles Blunderson has been my online persona and alter-ego for nearly five years now. I'd been saving up the name for a few years prior to that. I thought I might use it for a character in a short story I have yet to write. Then I found this place called the internet where I could skewer people anonymously, so I put that unused moniker to good use.

There was this restaurant I used to frequent where they always asked if a person wanted noodles or rice (as a side dish, for you MENSA folks). One day I was being asked that question when one particular employee who wasn't helping me at the time recognized me and interrupted saying, "with this guy its ALWAYS noodles." Several weeks later while strolling around town, I bumped into the same guy. He introduced me to his lady friend as if we went way back. "Baby," he said, "this is Noodles."

So at least I have managed to avoid the trapping of giving myself a nick-name because someone actually called me this once. I am pathetic because I flog it like a dead horse. Then again, flogging a dead horse is the second bullet on my resume under "special interests" right after long walks on the beach and right before talking about my feelings. On the other hand, there are only a few people who know me as both Noodles and Jef, and they can all be eliminated with a single phone call.

It is kind of sad when people give themselves their own nick-name. I work with a guy named Mike but he told me to call him Rooster. When I asked him how he got the name he said he gave it to himself. I don't talk to that guy anymore. But I did see him at a reception for the local MENSA chapter. I was standing outside looking in, of course...

I did meet a guy named NOODLE about a year ago who was a friend of a friend. He was a strange cat but he was entertaining as hell when he was drunk—as long as you don’t mind hearing the same stories over and over and over again.

Searching online I haven't found a lot of Noodles, certainly fewer Noodles Blundersons. But to find, one does actually have to look which is not something I've done a lot of. It’s time consuming and not as fun as so many other things on the net. I do know that I once forgot to renew my hotmail account for that name, only to discover a few months later that someone was using it. I should e-mail them someday and say hey. We obviously have one thing in common.

Right after I secured this blog account, I did a Google search for blogs by jokers named Noodles. I found there were already blogs by people named Noodles. I only checked two. One was really lame and one was really boring. I suppose I can't really talk since they had received comments for their blogs and I haven't even gotten a page hit from anyone but myself.

At least I can say that I have the very worst blog by a guy who calls himself Noodles (but only on-line). And being the worst is something I excel at.

adventures of a wanna-be techno-dude... guy... person

What is the strangest thing you have done while waiting for your utilities to be hooked up? Can't be stranger than what I did. When my wife and I bought our house, we made the mistake of having the cable hooked up last. Next time I'll hook up everything in this order - Power, CABLE, gas, phone. Since I had not yet been granted this insight, I was forced to find creative ways to entertain myself.

Power was on and that was it. Since my wife works days and I don't, it was up to me to wait around for the deadbeats who "work" for various companies to show up and hook up. At least they were all coming on the same day. I arrived early with my computer and hooked it up near a window in the front room so I could watch for the jokers that would be showing up as the hours passed.

The only software I had loaded at the time was a program for creating electronic music. So... that is exactly what I did all day. I busted out three complete tracks and started several others. I had no idea what kind of music I was writing, only that I found the experience more than mildly amusing.

That night, my best friend came to pick me up for work. I played him some of the tracks. He laughed in all the right places (I should) mention that I groove to an old school synthesized sound) but when all was said and done he told me that as far as house music goes, this was pretty good. Cool… but what the fuck is “House music?”

He later put some of my songs on a website that features independent artists of all musical genres. One of my songs actually reached #31 on their charts. That’s 31 in downloads and plays... 31 out of several thousand songs in the "House" sub genre. I was 465 out of more than 86,000 electronic songs at one point. The whole thing had me feeling pretty good.

Has this changed my life? Have I signed a phat record contract yet? Have I ever had a chance to do the interviews I've practiced so many times as I was falling asleep? HELL NO.

The only recognition I have really gotten over there (or anywhere except from my best friend) include some shout-outs on my message board from artists who are really only plugging their own… bastards! One is even from one of those geniuses that can’t seem type in anything but all caps. He dude: FUCK OFF WITH THAT SHIT!

I just uploaded the first single from my second album. Three days on the charts and I'm at 204… so far so good. But perhaps I should drop this silly hobby and focus on something worth while, something that will actually make the world a better place and me a better person to inhabit it...

You know, like blogging.