Category Archives: blogging

Yes, Another Damn Headache

Dear Reader,

Please excuse Mohawk Valley Girl from making a blog post today. She has a very bad headache.

Sincerely,
Mohawk Valley Girl

OK, that was really lame, and it is not Lame Post Friday yet. I would like to spout out some half-baked philosophy regarding the contention that a foolish blog post is better than no blog post at all. But, again, half-baked philosophy is for Lame Post Friday. What I am really hoping for, however, is I Don’t Have a Headache Friday.

Interesting phenomenon: I dragged myself from my sickbed to write just a couple of lines so that I’ve posted something, and I can’t seem to stop typing.

OK, now I can.

What a Wuss

It’s Wuss-Out Wednesday and I’ll just have to feel bad about that, if I’m inclined to. I’m not, really. It’s been a bad week so far. Bad for novels, bad for blogs, bad for running and bad for cute little doggies.

Tabby had to go to the vet for some dental work today. She had to be sedated, and Steven had to leave her there for a few hours. I don’t know who was more upset about it, him or her. I heard about it via cell phone at work, and I wasn’t exactly cheerful about it myself.

I would like to give a shout-out to Mohawk Valley Veterinary Clinic, where we bring her. They are very nice there and very professional. I’d like to give a real plug to them, sharing some pertinent information, but right now I’m busy wussing out. Oh dear.

Tabby is fine now. They called Steven and told him he could pick her up between 4:30 and 5, which information he duly relayed to me. I thought Tabby would like it best if we both came to pick her up. So, naturally, I could not go running. At least, if I had been in better shape, I suppose I could have run to the clinic and met Steven there. Um, I did mention this is Wuss-Out Wednesday, didn’t I? Well, I wouldn’t like to run without Tabby anyways, because she always walks my cool-down with me.

So this is me, wussing out on a Wednesday. No Mohawk Valley adventures are in the offing, so the rest of the week may seem wussy as well. What can I say? I live to write another day.

Wrist Firmly on Forehead

Well, it is Wrist to Forehead Sunday after all.

I went wine tasting in the Finger Lakes yesterday with certain female members of my family. I’m a little tired today. Oh, stop looking so smug and self-righteous; I didn’t taste all that many wines. I was no more obnoxious than I am in the usual course of things (I know, some feel that is plenty obnoxious enough). However, it was a long day, and I am not a young woman.

Steven and I went for a walk with Tabby just now, thinking a pedestrian post would be acceptable on a Sunday. Hmmm… not much of a walk. No interesting anecdotes resulted. No striking observations or even silly jokes.

I put some chicken in the oven, so I suppose I could make something of a cooking post. Hmmm… that would take far more words than I am at present inclined to type (I did mention that it was Wrist to Forehead Sunday, didn’t I?).

I looked at the draft I am STILL working on about The Tingler, only to discover that there is at least a page and a half still in my notebook I haven’t even typed in yet. And I believe there is still more to write (it is going to be SUCH an anticlimax when I finally publish that damn Tingler post; it’ll never live up to expectations now).

So, I guess this is my Sunday post. A few lame excuses and a half-hearted preview of coming attractions. I wish I could muster the exuberance of last Sunday’s declared day off. Oh well, we all do what we can. I hope to see you on Monday.

Kind of a Time Warp

I had intended to have all posts about Halloween movies till Halloween night. I have plenty of material to work with, thanks to TCM and the miracle of DVR. Well, I was working on it, and let me tell you, my post on The Tingler is getting scary and not in a good way.

On the brighter side, I noticed yesterday on my computer that WordPress seems to be twelve hours ahead of me. Thus yesterday, when I wrote about Cat People, was Halloween. Today I can go on to November, or as the retail world seems to think, Christmas. I was thinking I could post this silliness tomorrow on Lame Post Friday, when I realized, according to WordPress, THAT’S TODAY!

However, as I wrote the preceding earlier, before beginning my shift at work, it was (and still is as I type this) Thursday. Non-Sequitur Thursday, in fact (if you saw me trying to rearrange the paragraphs of my Tingler post using asterisks, you would agree that it is). I was and still am having an indecisive day. I had to flip a coin to decide whether to drink coffee or water as I was writing before work (drinking both was ineligible for reasons I will not go into here).

I wrote more while at work, but it was fairly tiresome. There was one parenthetical comment I rather liked, but I can’t figure out how to fit it in now. At any rate, I am over 200 words. I deem that respectable. I will continue to work on my post about The Tingler and eventually publish it, regardless of the day WordPress or the calendar say it is.

I Declare a Day Off

So I was all apologetic about, what was is? five foolish posts last week. And here I am NOT writing a real post today. And I don’t care!

It is not Wrist to Forehead Sunday. I am actually having a pretty good day. I went running this morning and took Tabby for a walk (in addition to our usual cool-down)(yes, both potentially bloggable activities). I did the dishes (not so bloggable, but in a pinch…). I am cooking potato soup (definitely bloggable; I invented the recipe). Oh, and I watched not one but two cheesy movies yesterday. My possibilities are endless!

And I say to hell with it! I’m taking another day off! Just because I want to! And I’ll use just as many exclamation points as I feel like!

So go ahead, shake your finger at me or point and laugh, according to your inclination. I’m going back to stirring my soup and enjoying my day. I hope you are enjoying yours as well.

Does This Ever Happen to You?

Sometimes I don’t know why I (a) write this blog, (b) tell people that I write it and especially (c) share the link on Facebook, practically begging people to read it. What the hell’s wrong with me?

A calmer voice in my head reminds me that art and especially writing is all about communication. If I’m going to create something, this line of reasoning goes, why not put it out there?

A mean, nasty voice in my head sneers, “Art? What do you mean art? Do you think what you do is art?”

And then I start to wonder if I really ought to be sharing information about hearing voices in my head.

What prompts this… soul searching? hair tearing? wrist to foreheading?… is a post I am trying to write about the Mohawk Valley Center for the Arts. I mentioned on their Facebook page that I am writing one. Now all I can think is that it’s going to sound stupid and should I mention this or that and OH MY GOD, I have to write it now, somebody might be waiting to read it!

Or do I flatter myself?

I don’t know if this happens to other people, but sometimes I start to write about something and realize I am telling everything and it may not be all that interesting to everybody else. And sometimes as I write it becomes a good deal less interesting to me. Or I experience other resistance, usually along the lines of, “You can’t say THAT!” or “I just don’t feel like writing about this,” neither of which ought to be given the weight they seem to demand.

I first tried to write the piece in my usual personal fashion, sharing all my dithery gyrations in getting there (my computer is telling me “dithery” is not a word, but it is exactly what I mean). I was afraid it would go too long and really be too much about me, so I tried editing as I went with no great success. Next I tried a straightforward news release style. After all, I worked in the newspaper business. I understand the inverted pyramid. Moreover, I read newspapers regularly. I ought to have internalized the structure by now. I got two paragraphs written, and they were no great shakes.

In desperation, I went to another page of my notebook and wrote, um, what you just read (oh dear, I HOPE somebody is still reading). It will have to stand as a Monday Middle-aged Musing. I will somehow get the Arts Center post done. Stay tuned.

Did I Mention I Have a Headache?

I started to write a post about a wonderful Mohawk Valley adventure Steven and I had last night. I was writing it at the laundromat, not exactly an adventure, but in the Mohawk Valley so I technically could have written about that. The writing was not going well, because I have one of those debilitating headaches I get sometimes.

I thought no problem, I have all day. A nap will probably fix me right up. It did not. Steven came home from work at 2:30. A cup of coffee would no doubt help. It did not. We went to the Ilion Farmer’s Market anyways, yes, something else I could write a post about. But I still have a headache.

We came home. I fixed supper, which I suppose I could write about, but it was a mere recombination of leftovers in a not especially innovative way. Still, when has that stopped me? Unfortunately, you see, there’s this headache.

So I guess it’s a blogger’s sick day, because I’m not even up to writing about how I can’t seem to write, another subject I have often gotten a post out of.

Many years ago I wrote a paper for a Shakespeare class in which I kept saying things I could have gotten into, but the paper was not long enough. The professor wrote a note that he found it frustrating that all I kept talking about what I wasn’t going to talk about. He still gave me an A on the paper, so you see, I have a long history of being rewarded for folly. I hope to see you again on Wrist to Forehead Sunday.

Heard It Through The Grapevine

There are days I don’t suffer from Writer’s Block, I suffer from Show It To Anybody Block. This sometimes takes the form of Write It And Cross It Out, but other times the words sit in my notebook, staring at me accusingly. “How could you write such a thing?” or “You’re not going to SHOW this to anybody are you?” or, more often, “What kind of a chicken-shit are you that you can write a thing and never let it see the light of day?”

I must be a writer. Even my words have words!

So you may have guessed, it is Non-Sequitur Thursday, better known as another excuse to write a post about Why I Can’t Write a Post Today. The thing is: I WROTE today! I started three different blog posts! I just can’t seem to finish any of them.

One of many memorable lines is the movie The Big Chill is, “I’m not hung up on completion.” It is said rather defensively, and in general I agree. It is usually a good idea to finish what we start. In my case that would include blog posts, novels and cleaning my closet. I probably could come up with some good half-baked philosophy about why it’s good to finish things or even why it is SOMETIMES a good thing not to. However, half-baked philosophy is for Lame Post Friday.

So, at the risk of being sequential on Non-Sequitur Thursday, I offer another apology for a foolish post. Still, I may have entertained. I may have offered an excuse for somebody to feel some superiority. Remember, no life is wasted. You can always stand as a bad example.

Hope to see you on Lame Post Friday.

Is It Really the Size of Manhattan?

You knew I was going to have another Wrist to Forehead Sunday.

At least, perhaps not every reader thought that. Perhaps some expected better of me. Perhaps some merely hoped. And perhaps it is the height of egotism to believe that anybody thinks about me at all. Well, I often say, there are worse things than having an ego the size of Manhattan.

Where was I?

I had a weekend away. I believe I mentioned it. I may have mentioned that I cleverly wrote blog posts in advance and used that handy function the nice WordPress people provide to set them to be published with no further effort on my part (cue unkind remarks on how little effort I seemed to have put into the posts up to that point). I have spent the last few hours asking myself why, or why, did I not write, type in and schedule to be published one more itty bitty post?

The answer is not far to seek. Posts are not that easy to come by, even some of the ridiculous crap I write. Some mental effort is needed, even for today’s self-indulgent folly. And you know what, a cup of coffee is not always the miracle cure I’m hoping for.

So, preview of coming attractions: I went to Vermont. I hit a couple of attractions. I went running a couple of times. I made a few observations on two three-hour long car rides. The material is there somewhere.

In the meantime, I just thought I’d make one more silly post about Why I Can’t Write a Post. As always, I crave your indulgence.

Wrist to Forehead to Movies

Welcome to Wrist to Forehead Sunday. I’m your host, Mohawk Valley Girl.

I think I ended yesterday’s post with a promise to talk more about the Superhero Sprint. In fact, I started to write that post yesterday. Today I pulled it out and wrote a little more on it. And then… Can’t call it Writer’s Blank, because I could think of a few more things to say. Can’t call it Writer’s Block, because, well, it didn’t feel blocked exactly. It was more along the lines of… Writer’s Petering Out.

Oh, it is SO much easier to write a post about Why I Can’t Write a Post!

I tell myself that I have all day to get the post written and typed in. However, I want to get it out of the way so I can get on to the movie watching portion of my Sunday. Perhaps I could say a few words about Movie Watching in October.

It’s no secret that I love Halloween movies all year long. My blog posts on cheesy horror movies prove that. It works, because, unlike Christmas movies, Halloween movies are not always about the holiday for which they are named (I said “not always.” Anybody taking a deep breath to holler at me about the Halloween series, just don’t bother). However, watching scary movies in the autumn has a particular feeling of being the Right Thing To Do.

I say “autumn” instead of “October,” because Steven and I start Halloween season after Labor Day.

We began our 2013 Halloween Movie Watching a few weeks ago with The Blair Witch Project, preceded by Curse of the Blair Witch. It is a perennial favorite of mine. I especially enjoy the alternate narrative technique. And I think it’s a terrific story about how the filmmakers used the Internet to make people believe, for a short time anyways, that the shit really happened.

Last Sunday we satisfied my yen for a monster movie with Tremors. The original, good movie. I never saw any of the sequels, which I heard were quite pathetic, and I never checked out the TV series either.

I had thought to do a full write up on those movies. For one reason, I think about doing a full write up on just about everything I do and see (hey, come on, give me a break, I like to post every day!). I may yet do it.

However, today is Wrist to Forehead Sunday and my brain is just not where I want it to be. Still, I’m over 400 words. How did that happen?