Okay, I get it. Readers don't wants witty quips, heartfelt stories and clever jokes. That's what I was going for but it fell flat. They want a to know what a blogger is doing minute by minute, keystroke by keystroke. I shouldn't think, I should just write and the story will come later. No pretensions, no spell check, all words. All words and no point.
However, this does sounds pretentious, "All I know how to do is write!" But that's the truth. There is one thing I know - I was born to be a writer. If you have a/passion, you know what I mean. Whether you're an artist, electrician, athlete or nurse, you know what you are meant to do.
And each time you put your fingers to the keyboard, brush or circuit to that board, push the limits of stamina, you're fulfilling your obligation.
Such as now, my heart is beating in the top of throat and my fingers shake as they try to keep up with my thoughts. It sucks not knowing how to type. In high school I probably attended typing class a total of 10 or 11 times. During my senior year, it was the easiest class to cut and I lived a mere four blocks form school. I really regret it now. The luxury of watching Jerry Springer at 1 o'clock just doesn't seem worth it now. Particularly because the (in)ability to type is what's stopping me from applying for this "thing".
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Monday, May 17, 2010
Blind item - Guess Who?
As eventually happens to most of us, people I never thought ever thought of me after all these years found me on Facebook. Well, they didn't search me out so much as added friends on the backs of existing friends like I do. A lot of these are old school chums (Sherwood Forrest Primary), one of whom was once my bully.
In our G.A.T.E. (gifted and talented education classes a.k.a. where schools place marginally-smart kids to get some of that sweet State money) English class we were required to author and illustrate a short story then bind it together with a plastic spiral "spine" in the school secretary's office.But back to the book itself, our "advanced" class went to the school library to work on our books - alone or in groups. Starting the dreaded illustration part of my book (which in itself was a thinly-veiled retelling of one of my favorite book series, The Stupids), I heard the unmistakable sound of stifled, pre-teen laughter. Turning around I saw one of my closest friends, whom we'll call @#!%?$, sitting at a four-person table with a trio of boys - a brunette, a blond and a redhead - The Three Bullies (TTB).
"What's are you guys reading?" I said more to @#!%?$ than TTB. "Nothing," she said, hand covering her laughing mouth, giving conspiratorial glances to the boys she viewed as potential boyfriends.Squinting at what it was she giggled over and TTB were so obviously proud of (I had bad eye-sight even back then), I made out a rough drawing of a bespectacled bloated blond girl holding what appeared to be a pastry and ready to burst at the seams - a pale Violet Beauregarde. Below the crude drawing was the book's title - "The Ho-Ho Girl".
As the image began to process, I couldn't understand how @#!%?$ could actually be reading, laughing no less, at the f'ed up parody of a person she shared a "Best Friends Forever" two-halved necklace with. @#!%?$ knew exactly who "Ho-Ho Girl" was supposed to be. She was there at the beginning.@#!%?$ and the rest of the usual "us" were having lunch at our usual spot when, from nowhere, my archenemies, The Three Bullies, began pelting me with our school snack bar's most popular item, Hostess' Ho-Hos. @#!%?$ sat at that metal table and watched as I awkwardly chased after them, hands clenched and flailing in front of me, yearning to hit something, anything.
"Look! She's trying to grab it!" the redhead bastard of the three shrieked, waving the circular cake in my face. "Ho-Ho Girl!"
If a frenemy is a friend turned enemy then wouldn't an enemy turned friend be an enemend?The point of all this?
My enemend surfaced in the form of the brunette of TTB requesting Ho-Ho Girl's, I mean my, "friendship" on Facebook. He probably added me after a common friend had and followed suit.
Whether he or not he remembers his part in the creation of Ho-Ho Girl, it's now 20 years later and we're "friends" on Facebook. That is unless he starts posting Hostess-related recipes on my wall. Then this girl will wreak some Ho-Ho havoc on your a...
Sunday, May 16, 2010
College Grad Gift Idea
The Che Store featuring Guevara gear "for all your revolutionary needs!"
Che-emblazoned t-shirts are for weekend rioters and pussy protestors; if you're serious about your revolución check out the Che chain wallet, The Original Che Beret and, of course, men's club wear.
Seven Typos That Changed the World!
Writers can feel a little bit better about misplaced punctuation after reading at cracked "7 Most Disastrous Typos Of All Time" such as The Spinach Conspiracy & The $80 million Hyphen.
Don't let yesterday use up too much of today. - Cherokee Proverb
I am a wussy writer. Two days spent trying to come up with a title for this blog, settle on my gut instinct/existing idea, now I'm exhausted to the point actual writing needs to wrap up. But the nagging question remains; "What should this blog be about?"
"How about worth reading! Oh!"
That's the great thing about the internet; anyone who writes can call themselves a writer. That's the worst thing about the internet; anyone who writes can call themselves a writer.
"How about worth reading! Oh!"
That's the great thing about the internet; anyone who writes can call themselves a writer. That's the worst thing about the internet; anyone who writes can call themselves a writer.
Saturday, May 15, 2010
"I'm not the biggest rocket surgeon..."
I'm watching Paris Hilton's My New BFF (Best Friends Forever) not to be confused with Paris Hilton's British Best Friend (BBF) although it would certainly be easy as they both run in marathon blocks on the often overlooked T.V. Guide channel.
Both feature contestants vying to fill the hole in Paris (ahem) left by "fake people"pretending to be real friends, "fakes", "fakers" and "fakey fakerstons" [maybe not the last one].
The contestants can be summarized by the title of this entry, an actual quote from one girl while being interviewed by Paris' enemend, Perez Hilton.
When P. Hitty decides which one of the girls cannot be her BFF, she says goodbye as only Paris can,"TTYN (Talk to you never)."
When it comes down to the last four contestants, Ms. Hilton is a bit nicer.
"I feel like God sent you to me here as an Angel. I'm not saying 'TTYN' to you...'TTYS'...Talk to you soon."
And after each elimination she swears that that was "the hardest thing I've ever had to do in my life!"
Obvious character flaws aside, Ms. Hilton appears much less brain-dead when she drops the little girl affect and uses her real voice.
The girl considers herself a brand therefore I guess it would make sense to have her own lingo/language. She made the word "hot" a catchphrase! The word that usually appears in conjunction with "cold". She took a simple adjective and made it her own. Now she has moved on to "huge", as her Twitter bio would suggest. Taking one of language's base words and turning it into your catchphrase is no small feat.
Although I shake my head in disbelief at the artificiality of her/brand, I admire her business acumen.
Both feature contestants vying to fill the hole in Paris (ahem) left by "fake people"pretending to be real friends, "fakes", "fakers" and "fakey fakerstons" [maybe not the last one].
The contestants can be summarized by the title of this entry, an actual quote from one girl while being interviewed by Paris' enemend, Perez Hilton.
When P. Hitty decides which one of the girls cannot be her BFF, she says goodbye as only Paris can,"TTYN (Talk to you never)."
When it comes down to the last four contestants, Ms. Hilton is a bit nicer.
"I feel like God sent you to me here as an Angel. I'm not saying 'TTYN' to you...'TTYS'...Talk to you soon."
And after each elimination she swears that that was "the hardest thing I've ever had to do in my life!"
Obvious character flaws aside, Ms. Hilton appears much less brain-dead when she drops the little girl affect and uses her real voice.
The girl considers herself a brand therefore I guess it would make sense to have her own lingo/language. She made the word "hot" a catchphrase! The word that usually appears in conjunction with "cold". She took a simple adjective and made it her own. Now she has moved on to "huge", as her Twitter bio would suggest. Taking one of language's base words and turning it into your catchphrase is no small feat.
Although I shake my head in disbelief at the artificiality of her/brand, I admire her business acumen.
Brain that launched a thousand quips
On the 15th day in the month of May, year Two Thousand and Ten, one writer decided she could either put finger to keyboard and give her thoughts to the greater consciousness or continue indulging in the soul-erasing habit of devouring bad television and making snarky comments to herself and the dog (yes, audibly conferring with a german shepherd named Baxter. The cat, Tigger, prefers to read). At six minutes passed the 22nd hour, the writer decided on a title for her tale, put her rusty fingers to the familiar keys and began.
This is that story.
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Sunday, May 30, 2010
All thought and no write...
Okay, I get it. Readers don't wants witty quips, heartfelt stories and clever jokes. That's what I was going for but it fell flat. They want a to know what a blogger is doing minute by minute, keystroke by keystroke. I shouldn't think, I should just write and the story will come later. No pretensions, no spell check, all words. All words and no point.
However, this does sounds pretentious, "All I know how to do is write!" But that's the truth. There is one thing I know - I was born to be a writer. If you have a/passion, you know what I mean. Whether you're an artist, electrician, athlete or nurse, you know what you are meant to do.
And each time you put your fingers to the keyboard, brush or circuit to that board, push the limits of stamina, you're fulfilling your obligation.
Such as now, my heart is beating in the top of throat and my fingers shake as they try to keep up with my thoughts. It sucks not knowing how to type. In high school I probably attended typing class a total of 10 or 11 times. During my senior year, it was the easiest class to cut and I lived a mere four blocks form school. I really regret it now. The luxury of watching Jerry Springer at 1 o'clock just doesn't seem worth it now. Particularly because the (in)ability to type is what's stopping me from applying for this "thing".
However, this does sounds pretentious, "All I know how to do is write!" But that's the truth. There is one thing I know - I was born to be a writer. If you have a/passion, you know what I mean. Whether you're an artist, electrician, athlete or nurse, you know what you are meant to do.
And each time you put your fingers to the keyboard, brush or circuit to that board, push the limits of stamina, you're fulfilling your obligation.
Such as now, my heart is beating in the top of throat and my fingers shake as they try to keep up with my thoughts. It sucks not knowing how to type. In high school I probably attended typing class a total of 10 or 11 times. During my senior year, it was the easiest class to cut and I lived a mere four blocks form school. I really regret it now. The luxury of watching Jerry Springer at 1 o'clock just doesn't seem worth it now. Particularly because the (in)ability to type is what's stopping me from applying for this "thing".
Monday, May 17, 2010
Blind item - Guess Who?
As eventually happens to most of us, people I never thought ever thought of me after all these years found me on Facebook. Well, they didn't search me out so much as added friends on the backs of existing friends like I do. A lot of these are old school chums (Sherwood Forrest Primary), one of whom was once my bully.
In our G.A.T.E. (gifted and talented education classes a.k.a. where schools place marginally-smart kids to get some of that sweet State money) English class we were required to author and illustrate a short story then bind it together with a plastic spiral "spine" in the school secretary's office.But back to the book itself, our "advanced" class went to the school library to work on our books - alone or in groups. Starting the dreaded illustration part of my book (which in itself was a thinly-veiled retelling of one of my favorite book series, The Stupids), I heard the unmistakable sound of stifled, pre-teen laughter. Turning around I saw one of my closest friends, whom we'll call @#!%?$, sitting at a four-person table with a trio of boys - a brunette, a blond and a redhead - The Three Bullies (TTB).
"What's are you guys reading?" I said more to @#!%?$ than TTB. "Nothing," she said, hand covering her laughing mouth, giving conspiratorial glances to the boys she viewed as potential boyfriends.Squinting at what it was she giggled over and TTB were so obviously proud of (I had bad eye-sight even back then), I made out a rough drawing of a bespectacled bloated blond girl holding what appeared to be a pastry and ready to burst at the seams - a pale Violet Beauregarde. Below the crude drawing was the book's title - "The Ho-Ho Girl".
As the image began to process, I couldn't understand how @#!%?$ could actually be reading, laughing no less, at the f'ed up parody of a person she shared a "Best Friends Forever" two-halved necklace with. @#!%?$ knew exactly who "Ho-Ho Girl" was supposed to be. She was there at the beginning.@#!%?$ and the rest of the usual "us" were having lunch at our usual spot when, from nowhere, my archenemies, The Three Bullies, began pelting me with our school snack bar's most popular item, Hostess' Ho-Hos. @#!%?$ sat at that metal table and watched as I awkwardly chased after them, hands clenched and flailing in front of me, yearning to hit something, anything.
"Look! She's trying to grab it!" the redhead bastard of the three shrieked, waving the circular cake in my face. "Ho-Ho Girl!"
If a frenemy is a friend turned enemy then wouldn't an enemy turned friend be an enemend?The point of all this?
My enemend surfaced in the form of the brunette of TTB requesting Ho-Ho Girl's, I mean my, "friendship" on Facebook. He probably added me after a common friend had and followed suit.
Whether he or not he remembers his part in the creation of Ho-Ho Girl, it's now 20 years later and we're "friends" on Facebook. That is unless he starts posting Hostess-related recipes on my wall. Then this girl will wreak some Ho-Ho havoc on your a...
Sunday, May 16, 2010
College Grad Gift Idea
The Che Store featuring Guevara gear "for all your revolutionary needs!"
Che-emblazoned t-shirts are for weekend rioters and pussy protestors; if you're serious about your revolución check out the Che chain wallet, The Original Che Beret and, of course, men's club wear.
Seven Typos That Changed the World!
Writers can feel a little bit better about misplaced punctuation after reading at cracked "7 Most Disastrous Typos Of All Time" such as The Spinach Conspiracy & The $80 million Hyphen.
Don't let yesterday use up too much of today. - Cherokee Proverb
I am a wussy writer. Two days spent trying to come up with a title for this blog, settle on my gut instinct/existing idea, now I'm exhausted to the point actual writing needs to wrap up. But the nagging question remains; "What should this blog be about?"
"How about worth reading! Oh!"
That's the great thing about the internet; anyone who writes can call themselves a writer. That's the worst thing about the internet; anyone who writes can call themselves a writer.
"How about worth reading! Oh!"
That's the great thing about the internet; anyone who writes can call themselves a writer. That's the worst thing about the internet; anyone who writes can call themselves a writer.
Saturday, May 15, 2010
"I'm not the biggest rocket surgeon..."
I'm watching Paris Hilton's My New BFF (Best Friends Forever) not to be confused with Paris Hilton's British Best Friend (BBF) although it would certainly be easy as they both run in marathon blocks on the often overlooked T.V. Guide channel.
Both feature contestants vying to fill the hole in Paris (ahem) left by "fake people"pretending to be real friends, "fakes", "fakers" and "fakey fakerstons" [maybe not the last one].
The contestants can be summarized by the title of this entry, an actual quote from one girl while being interviewed by Paris' enemend, Perez Hilton.
When P. Hitty decides which one of the girls cannot be her BFF, she says goodbye as only Paris can,"TTYN (Talk to you never)."
When it comes down to the last four contestants, Ms. Hilton is a bit nicer.
"I feel like God sent you to me here as an Angel. I'm not saying 'TTYN' to you...'TTYS'...Talk to you soon."
And after each elimination she swears that that was "the hardest thing I've ever had to do in my life!"
Obvious character flaws aside, Ms. Hilton appears much less brain-dead when she drops the little girl affect and uses her real voice.
The girl considers herself a brand therefore I guess it would make sense to have her own lingo/language. She made the word "hot" a catchphrase! The word that usually appears in conjunction with "cold". She took a simple adjective and made it her own. Now she has moved on to "huge", as her Twitter bio would suggest. Taking one of language's base words and turning it into your catchphrase is no small feat.
Although I shake my head in disbelief at the artificiality of her/brand, I admire her business acumen.
Both feature contestants vying to fill the hole in Paris (ahem) left by "fake people"pretending to be real friends, "fakes", "fakers" and "fakey fakerstons" [maybe not the last one].
The contestants can be summarized by the title of this entry, an actual quote from one girl while being interviewed by Paris' enemend, Perez Hilton.
When P. Hitty decides which one of the girls cannot be her BFF, she says goodbye as only Paris can,"TTYN (Talk to you never)."
When it comes down to the last four contestants, Ms. Hilton is a bit nicer.
"I feel like God sent you to me here as an Angel. I'm not saying 'TTYN' to you...'TTYS'...Talk to you soon."
And after each elimination she swears that that was "the hardest thing I've ever had to do in my life!"
Obvious character flaws aside, Ms. Hilton appears much less brain-dead when she drops the little girl affect and uses her real voice.
The girl considers herself a brand therefore I guess it would make sense to have her own lingo/language. She made the word "hot" a catchphrase! The word that usually appears in conjunction with "cold". She took a simple adjective and made it her own. Now she has moved on to "huge", as her Twitter bio would suggest. Taking one of language's base words and turning it into your catchphrase is no small feat.
Although I shake my head in disbelief at the artificiality of her/brand, I admire her business acumen.
Brain that launched a thousand quips
On the 15th day in the month of May, year Two Thousand and Ten, one writer decided she could either put finger to keyboard and give her thoughts to the greater consciousness or continue indulging in the soul-erasing habit of devouring bad television and making snarky comments to herself and the dog (yes, audibly conferring with a german shepherd named Baxter. The cat, Tigger, prefers to read). At six minutes passed the 22nd hour, the writer decided on a title for her tale, put her rusty fingers to the familiar keys and began.
This is that story.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
