PRS (Paranormal State) is a Sham

I was a member of the Paranormal Research Society (PRS, State College) until yesterday when I was told that my services with the organization were no longer needed. They say it was because of work performance, but what it really was is that I went up against the almighty Ryan Buell. Now, PRS seems to be refusing to pay me for my return trip from Gettysburg. Yes, it was under $100, but it's the principle (and I'm poor). My suggestion to anyone involved or interested the Paranormal Research Society is to run before they screw you over, too.

Sparring

I haven't done karate sparring in about 5 years. Today, I sparred with about 6 different people of different ranks, including four black belts. I learned a lot from this experience. First off, I'm older and my back has lost all shock-absorbing properties. Therefore, while before I could absorb kicks into my ribcage, I now feel like I was in a minor car accident. (It's "good" pain, though, not injury pain). Also, I'm short (5'4"), so a lot of opponents can range me. I also discovered that I have a bad habit of blocking a kick with both hands, which leaves me open to head shots.

Things I need to improve include being more offensive, mixing in more kicks, and not letting my opponent lead me. I noticed I used mainly straight-line linear attacks and footwork. I need to work more combinations and circle/change direction.

Overall, I'm happy with my first sparring class in half a decade.

The Grey Months

I find the hardest month to get through for me is February. It has the fewest days, but seems to go on forever. I find myself trying to find ways to push through it, only to find that March isn't much better. I think this might be one of reasons I didn't fare that well in Seattle. While those years were the best for me financially, I was also at my most depressed. I know eventually the sun will shine again, and green will return, but I find it most difficult to remain optimistic during these times. Many other times, I've gotten lost in a fog. Finding it difficult to do the things that I love best like reading, writing, hiking, and even karate. I know from past experience I can make it through these months, but it seems to get harder with every year. This year, I vow to use these grey months for creative purposes. I know I can write better than a lot of published authors. I just have to push my self through the submission stages and not fear rejection.

Karate Lovefest

It's hard to explain my love/hate affair with karate (I love it, my body hates it). I've been interested in it since I was a kid, learning techniques from friends. I had about 4 friends teaching me different styles when I was in my early twenties. I didn't have a specific dojo to call home until 2001. Since then I've had several starts and stops due to a bad back, but somehow have kept on going.

My longest hiatus was 2-1/2 years, when I was in Seattle. I guess I just never felt comfortable away from my dojo. I still practiced kata and techniques, but never enrolled in another school. When I returned to Ohio this last November, one of the first places I went was back to my dojo. It felt like I had truly returned home when I took my first class. It doesn't matter to me if I can never get my black belt due to physical difficulties (having about 1-1/2 feet of metal surrounding my spine has led to it losing all natural shock absorbing curves and severe arthritis), I just want to keep on practicing as long as I can.

At What Price

Today, I am going to a viewing of a former grade school classmate. It is believed that his death was a suicide. What's ironic is I had been thinking about him just last week, possibly even on the day he died. I remember how he was such a nice, quiet boy. He really helped me out of a depression I had in junior high, when I was trying to decide how important one life is when viewed from the universe inward. I only wish that I would have kept contact with him outside of grade school/high school. If he had someone to talk to when he was feeling hopeless, maybe things would have been different. I really would have liked to have known the man he had become.

Why I Love Horror

When I read my first H. P. Lovecraft book, I was 9 or 10 years old. My brother lent it to me, saying it was best read in the basement. I remember the feeling of dread that came over me as I read about the denizens of Innsmouth for the first time. I began to feel as if there were eyes watching me from the shadows, something just out of the range of sight. Even Lovecraft's words had a special sound to them: phantasmagorical (still my favorite), lugubrious, and others. Suddenly, I knew that this would always be my favorite genre, because horror has it all. Mysteries, fantasy, ghost stories, action. Nothing can beat the racing heart, chills along the back of one's neck, fingers gripping the page tighter and tighter as the suspense builds. I believe the finest horror writing encompasses all of these sensations.

Intro

I'm a little behind on the blogging fad. I'm starting this mainly because I have some ideas I want to express that don't really fit the constraints of Facebook. As for myself, I am currently a librarian without a home. I'll mainly be using this blog as a stream-of-consciousness journal with a few reviews thrown into the mix.