Category Archives: Lame Post Friday

Questioning Lame Post Friday

Points to ponder on Lame Post Friday:  Why are pickled cucumbers called pickles, but pickled everything else is called pickled whatever it is?

No, don’t answer.  It is a point to PONDER, not a topic for discussion.  Here’s another:  which kind of person is more annoying: the kind who ask questions they do not want answered or the kind who invariably answer a question with another question?  You can answer that one, as long as you do not answer it with another question.

Oh all right, you can answer the first question too.  You can even answer that one with another question if you’d like.

As you may guess, my fogginess of brain continues, with a little headache added to it, but you’ll have that during allergy season.  At least I’ll have that.  And complain about it, but that’s something you can find all year long from any number of people.  Another point to ponder:  Do you suppose it is true that the more you complain the longer God lets you live?  It is what my sister says. One of the things she says.  She says a lot (I come from a talkative family).

Tomorrow I have several Mohawk Valley adventures planned, which I hope to write blog posts about.  Maybe I can even have enough adventures that I will have a real post a week from today instead of another Lame Post Friday.  And this leads us to a final point to ponder:  Will my dear readers get tired of my silliness and impatient with my ridiculous posts?  You can answer that one, too.  It might be useful information for me to know.

 

 

We’ll Always Have Lame Post Friday

I really did try to write while I was at work today (YES, on a break, don’t go speed-dialing my boss!).  For one reason, I ran out of cryptogram puzzles from the newspaper and I didn’t bring a book or magazine nor yet my script to study (that last would have been a good idea; missed a bet).  Well, the brain dead thing continues, I guess. Anyways, it’s Lame Post Friday.  I can’t get too exercised on Lame Post Friday (exercise!  That would be another good idea!  Oh well).

It isn’t even a “real” Friday for me, because I work tomorrow.  Oh, don’t sneer at me, all you non-Monday-to-Friday people.  I know, you all work harder and longer than me at more challenging, important jobs.  Blah, blah, blah.  I wasn’t complaining.  Much.

My plan had been to write about LiFT’s performance of Much Ado About Nothing last night at Benton’s Landing in Little Falls.  It went very well.  Actors and audience both endured high temperatures and humidity.  We were rewarded with a live Shakespeare experience.  Oh, I do love theatre.  I love writing too; I just don’t seem to be capable of doing much of that lately.  As I often say, one must persevere.

Tomorrow afternoon we have another performance, this one on the stage where we have rehearsed the most, Sterzinar Park, Canal Place, Little Falls.  Saturday’s show is at 4 p.m., then Sunday we have one at 3.  For more information, you can visit LiFT’s Facebook page.  You can also see some fun pictures of our other performances.

And in case anybody was wondering, Sunday will conclude All Much Ado All The Time and we return to our regularly scheduled blog posts (you know, a few “real” posts surrounded by foolishness about How I Can’t Write a Post Today).  I do hope you’ll stay tuned.

 

 

 

Not Even Time to Think of a Lame Headline

For today’s Friday Lame Post, I shall share what I wrote in my spiral notebook while on lunch at work earlier this week.  I shall add comments as I feel like it.  I think I will put the comments in italics, just to be precious (whatever that means) (I may address that use of “precious” in a future post).  And I just italicized what I just typed in, to be consistent.

My plan, for last week as well as this week, was to write blog posts ahead so I would only have to hit “publish” before heading out for rehearsal or performance.  So far it has not worked out very well.  Still, it’s only Tuesday.  I have hopes for this week.  Not high hopes. As you may guess, I was correct not to harbor high hopes.

Today I am testing a long-held theory of mine.  The theory is:  you can write when you’re in pain as long as it is not a headache.  My wrist is throbbing for unknown reasons.  And here I am writing.  True, it is my left wrist and I am right handed.

Oh!  It hurts like a son of a bitch!  My theory is wrong.

Come to think of it, I knew my theory was wrong years ago.  I had strep throat when I was in college, and it made me feel dreadfully ill.  My head throbbed in a most painful fashion.  But I had exams and I took them.  Well, let me tell you I wrote some of the best essays of my life with my head throbbing.  Maybe part of the reason was that I wanted to get finished and get the hell out of there and back to bed, but I felt as if my brain focused with laser precision and cut through all the crap.

What did I learn from this?  I don’t know, but I think I won’t use this blog post, because I do not like it (oh, I do NOT remember writing that part.  Oh crap).

And I wish my wrist would stop hurting.

My wrist is feeling better, for any kind readers who were concerned.  Probably a stupid pulled muscle or something.  I feel a little silly for having made such a fuss about it, but as I wrote earlier, it did hurt like the proverbial son of a bitch.  I’m wondering if my original assessment of not liking and thus not publishing this post was not the right one.  However, for reasons I have been talking about for weeks (remember, Much Ado About Nothing?), I now only have time to hit “Publish.”  Happy Friday, everyone.

Under the heading, It Takes So Little To Please Some People, I like the way the title of the play is not italicized when it falls in a paragraph that is all italicized.

 

Left Lame for LiFT

Last night I drove to the Utica Zoo for a dress rehearsal of Much Ado About Nothing, the play I am in with LiFT Theatre Company.  We are doing a performance there Aug. 1 as part of Utica Monday Night.

I rarely drive to Utica any more and still more rarely to that section of it, but I was fairly certain I knew my way.  I got on 5S and took the Culver Street exit.  I got a definite emotional flashback as I drove over the Boilermaker 15K Road Race Start line.  I did not run the race this year but I’m thinking I will in 2017.  I was pleased to note Boilermaker landmarks (or at least things I remember noticing the times I ran) and pictured the spectators cheering as thousands of runners surged past them.  Oh, the press of humanity!  Oh, the thought of the long run ahead!  The excitement, the nerves…  I did mention I was having a flashback, didn’t I?

I also noticed Proctor Park, a place I have only driven by.  I have often thought I would like to go for a run along that path, only I’m not sure where is a good place to park. No doubt I could find that out.  That will be something to pursue when my running routine needs a shake-up.  As I drove by the National Guard Armory, I had flashbacks to my short stint in the guard after I got out of the army.  I remember a fellow who worked for the guard full time said his kids called it The Castle.

I started to get a little nervous when I got on the Parkway.  It was not that I was having more flashbacks, but I was not completely sure where to go.  I thought the zoo was a simple left hand turn and all I had to do was look for signs, but I have been known to mess up the simplest of directions.

While stopped at a stoplight I realized I ought to be in the left lane.  Glancing to my left, I thought I recognized a fellow cast member.  Perfect!  After the light changed I got in the lane behind him. Now all I had to do was follow!  Unless I was mistaken about who it was, I reflected, second-guessing myself as usual.  I watched for signs, just to hedge my bets.  The signs were readily located, and the car carrying my suspected cast-mate turned left where I saw I was supposed to.  A large arch reading “Utica Zoo” told me I was in the right spot. Yay!

Surprisingly, the parking lots were almost full.  I later found out it was a Special Night for some employer or other, so the zoo was full of patrons.  I saw a couple of spots but continued to follow my friend.  As I pulled in next to him, I hoped it was the fellow I thought it was, and not some random young man who might think I was a cougar type stalking him.  I guess I am old enough to be one of them there cougars, although I am not at all inclined to.  As regular readers know, I have a perfectly nice husband already.

But getting back to the subject of second guessing, I am now second guessing this blog post.  Who writes an entire blog post about driving from Herkimer to Utica?  What am I thinking, that every minute aspect of my life is fascinating?  I often say that there are worse things than having an ego the size of Manhattan, but surely there is a limit to all things (and I’ll call you Shirley if I want to).

On the other hand, this is Lame Post Friday.  Maybe I can make a play on words with “lame” and “lane,” since I was talking about getting into the left lane.  I have already used “Unsafe Lame Change.”  Also, I believe I changed lanes safely in this instance.  I also believe it is time to get on with enjoying my Friday and my weekend.  I have two rehearsals.  Perhaps I could write about them and not just getting to them.  Happy Friday, everyone.

LiFT will present Much Ado About Nothing at the Utica Zoo on Monday, Aug. 1 at 6 p.m.  The show is free with admission to the zoo.  For more information, visit LiFT’s Facebook page.

 

Lames Away!

I did say it was going to be Lame Post Friday, didn’t I?  And here I am, ready to lame away!  Not really.  I’m sitting at work, which is not air conditioned by the way, writing in my beat-up spiral notebook and wishing I had a cryptogram puzzle to solve instead.  Well, maybe not instead.  Maybe as a warm-up.  When I was much younger and had to tear myself away from whatever book I was reading to work on whatever novel I was writing, I used to do a puzzle to clear my mind between the two fictions (oh, I like that phrase, “between the two fictions”).

My mind could use some clearing.  I have had quite the bear of a week and it is not over yet.  The fact that most of my chores have been fun things that I chose to do does not take away from the inherent stress of having too much stuff to do.  The reflection that other people have to do way more stuff than me adds guilt and self-loathing to my troubles, as I add “Beat self up for complaining so much” to my to-do list.

Last night members of LiFT Theatre Company had a great deal of fun presenting a few scenes from Much Ado About Nothing to attendees of Little Falls’ Third Thursday.  We got some good laughs, especially when we forgot lines.

Tonight I plan to march in Ilion’s Doodah Parade with other members of Ilion Little Theatre.  That means I have to hurry home, walk my dog, take my shower, make my blog post, eat something, get into my costume and be ready by 5:15.  I’m not just planning how to get all this done, I’m scheming how to get it done early so my friend and I can sneak in a quick wine tasting at Valley Wine and Liquor before the parade.  Ah, add another thing to my list:  Check Facebook to see if Valley is having a tasting (although they almost always do on Fridays) and contact Kim to see if she’s into it.

What a long list I’m getting.  Perhaps I should not add “Beat myself up for complaining.”  Hey, I bet I’d save even more time if I actually STOPPED complaining.  As the Gene Wilder character said in Young Frankenstein: “IT!  COULD!  WORK!”

 

It’s No Puzzle Why I’m Lame

That is a lame headline even for Lame Post Friday.  If I come up with something better before I hit publish, I’ll fix it and change the lead.  Oh, editing.  If only I did more of it.  I’ve talked about edited and polished vs. pure inspiration.  Alas, I have no inspiration today.  But, as you see, I am writing anyways, so those of you who were gearing up for the superior lecture on how One Must Not Await Inspiration, stand down.

Isn’t that a lovely expression?  “Stand down.”  More military than “Sit down.”  More dignified than “Shut up.”  I think I will use it more often.

Astute readers have guessed by now that I spent my breaks at work doing cryptogram  or crossword puzzles rather than writing a blog post.  I also looked at the list I wrote on Tuesday of things to accomplish this week.  I reflected that I have many things to do between today and tomorrow. Then I went back to the puzzle at hand.  I am quite addicted to cryptogram puzzles.

Waaaait a minute.  I  wrote that list on Tuesday.  Doesn’t that mean that I have till Tuesday of next week to complete the items on the list?  I think it does.

In the meantime,  it’s Friday.  I have lines to learn for the play I’m in.  I have work to do on the play I’m writing. I have dirty laundry and a messy house.  I have a dog to walk and a husband to visit with (once he gets home from work).  Full disclosure:  I also have true crime shows to watch on cable television.  I’m only human after all.  Happy Friday, everyone.

 

Zen and the Art of Lame Post Friday

Friday just is.

And explanation of that first sentence.   I was about to write a complete sentence then thought, “Oh hell, I’ll just make my blog post later.”  I didn’t realize WordPress had saved it till I logged back in and saw I had an untitled draft.  Naturally I clicked Edit.  At first it looked as if WordPress had saved a blank screen, and I said, “How appropriate.”   Then the above sentence fragment appeared, and I kind of liked it.

The second paragraph was composed on our tablet, you know, one letter at a time with the stylus, till the word I want appears above the keyboard.

Now I’m back on the laptop.  Aaahhhh…  I still don’t have anything to say, but it sure is a lot quicker to ramble on. The first sentence was going to be a reflection that Friday is different when it is the end of a vacation week.  Then I thought, well, duh. I have spent most of today reminding myself that this is still a three day weekend for me.  If I had worked all week and was at the beginning of a three day weekend, I’d be pretty damn happy, wouldn’t I?  Well, then.

So  I am reasonably content with my lot in life tonight.  Three more days till I return to the beastly grind, which, as I may have said, is not particularly beastly nor even grind-like.  I am actually feeling kind of zen about it.  I guess somebody who knows a lot about zen would tell me I am misusing the expression quite disgracefully. I did read a book about zen once:  Zen and the Art of Archery, I think it was, no idea who wrote it.  My cello teacher recommended it to me. She was kind of a weirdo, although I remember being quite impressed with her when I was a high school student.

What I mean by “feeling kind of zen” is, the first sentence sounds oddly appropriate to me.  Then again, perhaps the blank screen would have been better.  Discuss amongst yourselves.  I must get back to enjoying my three day weekend.

 

Faux Finish Friday

This week it seems I have indulged in all my give-myself-a-break posts.  And regular readers know I almost never miss Lame Post Friday.  Additionally, I see that since Monday I have mentioned the appropriate weekday in the headline.  Can I continue the trend (I am writing the post before the headline)?  We shall see.

I spent a good deal of my time at work today wondering why I was not in a happier mood.  After all, Friday.  And I don’t have to work Saturday.  What’s not to like?  I was going home to a cute little dog, and my nice husband would be home a mere hour after me. When I got tired of wondering about that (it didn’t take long), I alternately tried to think of something silly to write about for my blog post and potential endings for my banana play.  I MUST finish that play soon!

I did not reach a satisfying destination on either of my trains of thought.  WHY are all the terrible events happening in my play?  Stephen King thinks it is scarier if you DON’T KNOW.  I see what he means, but I think it is sloppy writing.  A writer can withhold the explanation, I suppose, but personally I feel dissatisfied when I get to the end of a story and there is no reason for anything.  Oh, don’t prate to me about how “in real life we don’t know why everything happens,”  we’re talking about fiction!  But it’s neither here nor there; I don’t rule out leaving things a mystery, the more so because I don’t know why they are happening myself.

Oh dear, now you all know I am something of a sloppy writer myself (cue unkind remarks about how you knew it all along).

Speaking of sloppy writing, I am over 250 words.  I call that a respectable post. Now if only I can think of a headline that includes the word “Friday”…

 

Just Write?

Write anything, just write.  That is the advice they give us.

“Who is ‘they’?” you may ask in that superior tone that so annoys me.  I may well ask back, “Who are YOU?”  Oh yeah, the critics in my head.  Who invited them to this blog post anyways?

So now I’ve written a whole paragraph without too much pain or problem.  I could go on like that, but am I really best served by doing so?  Another bit of writerly advice I’ve heard is, “Give that inner critic a voice, maybe even a name.  Write out your arguments with him or her.”  The idea is I will see how spurious the inner critic’s criticisms are and/or I will become bored with listening to that fool and tune him or her out.  So there.

Do all writers have this inner critic and are all inner critics as snarky and annoying as mine?  I would not be a bit surprised.

Regular readers know I have had a bit of a problem lately.  The other day I made up my mind to Just Write More.  Of course this is a recipe for ensuring that the one thing I just can’t/don’t want to do is write.  I tried to circumvent the automatic reaction with the caveat that I could Just Write  ANYTHING.  I also sternly told myself to Just Write Anyways.

And I have written, at least in dribs and drabs.  A couple of paragraphs in the TV Journal.  A few more lines on the banana play.  A not too contemptible lead for an article for Mohawk Valley Living (along with a few contemptible leads I crossed out).  Part of a letter to my sister.  And of course blog posts.

As I often observe, one must persevere.  Ah, I think that can count as a random observation.  Remember, today is Lame Post Friday, my day for random observations and half-baked philosophy.  I think this whole post counts as the latter.  Happy Friday, everyone.

 

NOW I’ll Pour the Wine!

Oh, thank Heaven it’s Lame Post Friday and Wine O’clock.  If only it was also Steve-fifteen, my life would be perfect.  Full disclosure:  I have not yet poured myself a glass of wine.  That’s next.  First I need to make a blog post.

I have been experiencing great resistance to writing lately (yes, I know, some people call that laziness; they could be right but I am not up to arguing semantics today).  Twice this week I’ve brought plays to work to read, to avoid staring at a blank page in my notebook.  I really have to stop doing that.   I mean, sometimes it’s fine.  I read the play on breaks, I put the play away and work. Sometimes not so much.

When I was reading Leading Ladies I made rather a spectacle of myself by laughing out loud as I read.  That did not bother me nearly as much as when I read Wrong Turn at Lungfish and started to cry.  I sat at the break table with the tears streaming down my face.  Finally I got up and went to the usual refuge for crying, the ladies room.  I went into the back and sobbed.  That would not have been so bad, except the guy was in there cleaning at the time.  How embarrassing.

Nothing particularly embarrassing happened with the plays I read this week.  The problem was, though, they were so good I could not put them down.  Well, one must put down reading materials and return to work.  Those are the rules.  This is why I stopped bringing books to work (no, not the crying thing; I rarely cry over what I read).

I have managed to write at least a little bit on my banana play each day.  I hope to write even more this weekend, among other activities planned.  One thing I have definitely planned is to write some non-lame blog posts.  However, those plans are for the future.  For today, this is what you get.  Happy Friday, everyone.