Some Thoughts On Varying Topics

It's June at last! Huzzah!

My birthday is in two-and-a-half weeks, and school lets out in three. All wholly good, commendable, honest reasons to venerate June as the best month of the year. (It really is, you know -- perfect weather, the promise of vacation and rest, and school letting out.)

And with the induction of June, I start to wonder about what the summer will have. Homework, of course, and summer assignments, for the advanced classes I'm taking next year. Maybe a vacation up North to San Francisco. (Personally I'd like to go to New Orleans, for beignets, and to see where the Anne Rice books took place.)

The Anne Rice books are really great. I've read the first 3, and part of Merrick. I recommend them for anyone who enjoys history (sort of), action, Gothic horror, and traces of erotic romance. (But nowhere near the level of that immoral Fifty Shades book series. Immoral, I say!) But I digress, back to summer.

The best summer I've had, up to date, was two years ago, in 2011. My godfather came to visit, as did my grandmother (even though she visited this past winter, it wasn't fun, and it was the first time I went to Hawai'i. Oahu.) Oh, and there was all this other cool stuff that I look back fondly upon, such as spending nights creating games, chatting with friends, listening to epic music, and much much more.) It was also when I was obsessed with anime for a while (a very short while, thank goodness. What happened to me then?)

I kid, of course. Anime is wholly commendable, and comically exaggerated. But I'm not an expert on it, for that I direct you to my brother and 95% of my friends/acquaintances at school and on the interweb. But I digress again.

Oh, and I got my second Moleskine. I finished the first last week, and I was so proud. I ended up keeping that promise that I made Christmas, sort of. I need to post pictures.

I've also been having an irrational obsession with musicals. Last year for my birthday I saw the Addams Family Musical, a brilliant one, and Mary Poppins, when I went to Washington. I'd love to see Sweeney Todd ("My right arm is complete AGAIN!") and perhaps Phantom of the Opera. Not to mention Anything Goes, and many more.

I have a love-hate relationship with musicals. They're hard to catch and understand (partly because I'm so used to subtitles on everything I view), and they're so SPONTANEOUS. Singing happens at the most inopportune and randomest of moments. Yet they're the American version of opera, of commedia, and everything else, and they can't be unnoticed/irrationally disparaged. So that's my take on musicals. (Plus, Moulin Rouge, one of the best movies out there, was a jukebox musical, and it was really well done. But that's just my Romantic Bohemianism going through.)

That's my random thoughts for today.
-Rob Miranda

A Conversation Between Two Brits at Dinner

I mean no offense to any Brits when doing this, I just jotted this down in my Moleskine in a moment of boredom. Consider this a small view inside the gears and cogs of my mind. If you're especially British-literate, you might recognise some of the things Richard and Charles say. Some are quotes pulled from books.  

Richard: Oh, hello Charlie, pleasure seeing you again, I dare say.
Charles: I've told you not to call me that.
Richard: I'm sorry, Charlie, I can't hear what you're saying. Blasted hearing aid, I dare say.
Charles: Oh, Richard...eating as usual, I see.
Richard: It's a rather cheap dinner, but I must be fed if I do.
Charles: How's your son? I heard he's in deep for that murder.
Richard: I'm quite proud. You know he burned him alive after he stabbed 'im?
Charles: A chip off the old block.
Richard: Indeed, Charlie. But I learned it at Eton, I dare say. Heaven knows where he got it.
Charles: Indeed, indeed. Mind passing me the port?
Richard: You know, I'm starting to wonder something. Mind helping me take my mind off it?
Charles: Of course. What's it?
Richard: I don't remember inviting you to dinner. What are you doing here?
Charles: No idea. I just remember walking in. Good port, this.
Richard: Yes, indeed. I got it from a chap down Tot'ham Court Road. Shilling and sixpence.
Charles: So what was your problem?
Richard: Oh, that was it. Unless you'd hear about the wolves. Dreadful thieves. I've a poison over there, to go and kill them. I'll go out this evening.
Charles: How brave of you.
Richard: Indeed, I thought so too. My servants are excellent at this sort of thing.
Charles: It's rather drafty. Mind if I close the windows?
Richard: No, I'm afraid it's part of our fire-prevention system.
Charles: Oh, genius! How do you come up with these ideas?
Richard: Here, take this candle.
Charles: Won't the draft blow through and set fire?
Richard: Heaven only knows. But that architect chap -- now, what was his name? You know him.
Charles: I do?
Richard: Yes, the chap from Norfolk...you must remember him...He said he went to Mare with you...
Charles: Oh, Jackson! Yes, I remember Jackson. He was always rather bright.
Richard: He is. He has this sensitivity to overhead lights. Shines right up. Pass the port, Charlie.
Charles: He's a perfect Christmas tree, that one. So, what'll happen to your son?
Richard: The usual, I suppose. Sent'ncing, he escapes, he shows up for my money...
Charles: Well, you must pay him, I suppose.
Richard: No, but I send him a Christmas card every year. Pass the port, I said, please Charlie.
Charles: Sorry, Ricky, but this port, it's quite excellent.
Richard: Ricky. That has a nice ring to it.
Charles: Oh, Richard... *sighs*

(the candle tips over and sets the table aflame.)
Charles: Oh dear! Oh, my goodness Richard, no! We need to --
Richard: That's fine. I knew it would happen eventually. Nothing to be done.
Charles: What do you mean? Of course, we --
Richard: I'll go get another table. The castle may take some time.
Charles: You must have a cab! We must leave this place or risk getting burned.
Richard: You go, I'll stay behind. There's this wonderful painting in the gallery down the hall...
Charles: Oh, is there?
Richard: Yes, will you follow me?
Charles: Shame about the port. Good port, that - hic! - was.
Richard: Hello, what's this! (picks up bottle in the corner) AUTHENTIC PORT. Oh dear.
Charles: What's the matter?
Richard: I put the wolves' poison as a doorstop and the port on the table. Oh dear. I thought I did.
Charles: Well, I must say there is something to be said for poison. What type?
Richard: Hemlock.
Charles: Oh, like that brilliant philosopher. Oh, well done, Ricky.
Richard: Indeed.
(The two leave.)

Copyright Robert Miranda, 2013

A Writing Activity For the Ages

I've decided my New Year's Resolutions some days ahead of time. One involves my wonderful Moleskine!

For 2013, I will be keeping a fictional journal that I will write in every couple of days or so. The idea is to take a general character and setting and over the months and weeks, develop that character into something great and literary by this time next year.

I can also add problems and conflicts or resolve them. Since it's a record of a life, the trouble is keeping it too mundane. The first month or so will involve mainly exposition and then conflict, et cetera.

I'm not sure what premise to use. I have 3 really good ones at the moment.

I. A Victorian doctor discovers how to raise the dead -- but one wonders if it may be tied into his dark past as a doctor in a lunatic hospital? This story leaves plenty of room for suspense and dark comedy. I started writing something similar to this last year, but never finished. I had about 20 entries in that one.

II. A Bohemian writer in the early 1900s, in Paris, suffering from a broken heart, among other things. He finds a special message in the unlikeliest of places. I particularly like this one because it leaves room for exposition and the writer's thought process. Somewhat based off Moulin Rouge?

III. Detective in New Orleans. I haven't developed this one at all but that's the only idea, pretty much. Based off the song "Ravella" and the epic Anne Rice books.


Let's hope I can keep true to this resolution and come January 1st, begin to write this illustrious tale and make it something I'm proud of.

To the next!
-R

My Mindful Moleskine (Or, What This Blog is Really For)

Joyeux Noel!

I've gotten several of my Christmas wish list items, including that pocket watch. Tick, tick, tick.

I got a Moleskine pocket notebook. I've been looking forward to one lately, because I love collecting journals-notebooks-stationery to write on. Problem -- I never know what to write. I am worried I will destroy the page, or worse, the book.

So, that begs the question, what to do? Write stories? Not bloody likely. I edit too much and my stories have more strikethrough lines than words. A journal...I hate my own thoughts.

Then I thought, that's what I do on here anyway. Dictating posts to myself. What started as a friends project where I could communicate to people from life, since I am vehemently against Facebook -- has turned into a silent springboard for ideas. My friends took a look and went back to their blue screens with blinding white text and grey lines. Forever alone...

Now, I don't mean I'm a misanthropic emo who hates the world. I love the world. Most aspects of it. Well, half the aspects. 25.4% the aspects..? Well, the point is, I am just a reserved individual. Which is why I'm keeping this as my journal until when I see fit to close it.

In the occasion someone from the real world adventurously stumbles upon this barren wasteland of text, poetry, ideas, jumbled mishmash of thought -- Bonjour. Now please be silent while I sing "The Transformation Into Marlene Dietrich" in my head.


There.

And that is why this blog is so awesome.

-R