Category Archives: Lame Post Friday

Not Feeling Friday

This post is going to be quite lame, I’m afraid, but yet will probably not attain the carefree silliness of a true Friday Lame Post.  I have gone all day not feeling as if it is Friday.  I still feel that way.

Normally I have this feeling when I have to work on Saturday.  This week I do not.  I only get to sleep in till four tomorrow morning, but that is at least later than three (I can do that much math, at least).

Oh, but that brings up a pet peeve of mine.  You do not have to say “4 a.m. in the morning”  nor yet “tomorrow morning at 4 a.m.”  It is either “Four in the morning” or “4 a.m.”  You can say, “tomorrow morning at four”  or “tomorrow at 4 a.m.”  “a.m.” and “in the morning” mean THE EXACT SAME THING!  The weather people on YNN (now known as Time Warner Cable News, but I find that awkward and not a little self-serving) say it all the time (I could say “every morning in the a.m.” but I’m not sure everyone would get the sarcasm).

This being Lame Post Friday, I ought to be able to come up with some half-baked philosophy either explaining why some people feel obligated to repeat themselves, why it bothers me so much, or perhaps some new and improved outlook I could adopt so it would bother me less.   Hmmmm….. nothing is coming.  I did say I was not feeling Friday, didn’t I?

No matter.  I am over 200 words, and by my own self-imposed rules, that is enough for a post.  I hope you will all tune in tomorrow when I hope to be feeling Saturday.

 

What’s This All About?

So, here I am, trying to make my blog post for the day. And WordPress won’t let me get to my dashboard!  It keeps saying I can’t get there from here (or words to that effect).  It won’t even let me get to any of my posts, from where I can usually get to said dashboard  (I was going to use “whence,” but you can’t say “from whence,” the expression is “whence,” and that didn’t seem right to me).  Then it lets me get to the “new and improved” posting experience, which I have hitherto avoided.

At least, I think that is where I am.  I could be typing all these words in to no effect.  Oh the pain.  Yet, how appropriate for Lame Post Friday.

It has, in fact, been more like a Saturday for me, because I am off from work.   I had some Mohawk Valley adventures.   I was all set to to a Scattered Saturday post on a Friday.  Alas, I could not.

After being unable to make my blog post, I had a rather amusing exchange on Facebook with a cousin of mine who has a blog.  Hachland is the blog.  Check it out (now he’ll KNOW I wasn’t hating on him) (oh, it’s a long story; I’ll write a blog post about it on a non-lame day perhaps).

The question is, can I link to Hachland from this posting experience?  Can I actually post this blog?  Oh, dear, I hope so. It may be lame, but at least it’s a post.

 

Lame a Little Lame with Me

Oh dear it is after 8 p.m. and I have yet to make my blog post.  I knew I would regret it when I did not type something in earlier.  Well, these things happen.  If I had made my post earlier, who is to say it would not have been even more lame than whatever I am about to come up with now?  I say it is best not to speculate upon such profitless topics.

So, yes, today is Lame Post Friday, the day when I take it easy an do not apologize for it.  I particularly like to indulge in random observations and half-baked philosophy.  Did I make any observations today? I saw a lot of weather.  First fog, then rain, then sun, then snow, then sun again, then gloom.  I am reminded of the old Popeye cartoons, when Popeye would try to make small talk.  He would say, “Large weather we’re having.”  It never worked very well as an ice breaker, but that hardly mattered.  We were all just waiting for him to eat some spinach and kick some ass.

I fear I do not have any philosophical comments to make.  Could I possibly become philosophical about not being philosophical?  I’m thinking not, but I’m wondering if any of my readers are named Phil.  Or Sophocles.  Is anybody named Sophocles anymore?  Was anybody ever named Sophocles after, you know, Sophocles?

And one final observations (not so random, but what are you going to do?):  I have a definite tendency to spell if “Sophoclese.”

 

Friday without Fish

I forgot how easily a change of scenery can get rid of Writer’s Block.  It is as if I left the block at work.  Just walked right away from it.  I must remember that trick for future use.

I am sitting at Applebee’s in Herkimer, NY writing in my battered spiral notebook.  I am meeting friends to talk about casting for Leading Ladies.  Steven will  join the discussion already in progress when he gets off work.

I should perhaps mention that today is my Friday, since I have the rest of the week off.  I had so internalized the notion earlier that I cursed myself for not bringing a tuna fish sandwich for lunch.  I remembered in time that this is no ordinary Friday.

However, I am still making a lame post.  We could call it a Wuss-out Wednesday, just to be didactic.

I had a cold walk down here.  There was wind and snow.  However, I persevered .

I made it down to Applebee’s.  I had a grand time with friends.  Now I am too tired to make a good post. Go figure.  Happy Friday (Wednesday), everyone.

 

Lame Post Before Drama

My life for the foreseeable future is going to be DRAMA!  No, I’m not going to be continually having Wrist-to-Forehead whatever day it is (although I suppose it could happen).  I mean my life is going to be theatre, Theatre, THEATRE!   (Yes, I must spell it with with “re”.)  I led with the first sentence for the sake of being, obviously, dramatic.  Who could blame me?

First, however, I shall make my weekly Friday Lame Post.

Earlier today I met with a lady from the Morningstar Methodist Church regarding a murder mystery dinner theatre fundraiser they are presenting in conjunction with Ilion Little Theatre.  Guess who’s writing and directing?  No, I’m not starring as well, although I expect I shall play a small but pivotal role.  It is very exciting for me.  I haven’t done a murder mystery in a long time, although we did them quite frequently in the North Country during the 1990s.

I shall write more blog posts on that project as I continue to work on it.

Additionally, auditions approach for Leading Ladies, Ilion Little Theatre’s spring production, which I am directing.  I must talk with the fellow who promised to build my set and with the lady who agreed to work on costumes.  I must pick out scenes for actors to read at auditions.  I must come up with a sheet for auditioners to fill out, including contact information, availability, etc etc.  And that is only a few of the things I have to think about.

Again, more blog posts will be forthcoming.

I think the first, most important thing I ought to do is to get my act together.  Yeah, I know, good luck with that.   That would be worth a blog post!  In the meantime, happy Friday, everybody.

 

Tuna Noodle Casserole

It is the first Friday of Lent.  Catholics eat fish on Fridays during Lent.  So do a lot of other people, actually, because some places serve awesome fish fry.  In fact, our original plan was to seek one out, which perhaps would have made a better blog post.

OK, I’m kind of babbling on, because it is Lame Post Friday.  Full disclosure:  before I ate my tuna noodle casserole, I had a glass of wine.  I nibbled some bread and guacamole first, so as not to have an empty stomach, but I’m afraid it kind of sort of went a little to my head.  What the hell, it’s Friday.

Steven and I are about to pop in a classic comedy, His Girl Friday, starring Rosalind Russell and Cary Grant.  There are also a few supporting players we know from other flicks.  Steven purchased our original copy from Woolworth in Massena, NY for, I think, $3, in 1990.  This was the early days of VHS.  It was before the $5 bin at Wal-Mart.  We later learned the cheap price was because the film was in public domain, and ours was a truly dreadful copy.  Still, we had it for years and watched it many times.  Now we have it on DVD, complete with special subtitles and special features, neither of which we ever take advantage of.

So this is my Friday Lame Post.  A mere slice of my life.  Dinner and a movie in the Quackenbush household.  I hope you are all having a lovely Friday yourselves.

 

Just Keep Typing?

Oh dear.  It is Lame Post Friday and I am beyond lame. So is my computer.  It is my little acer netbook (or whatever it is; my nice sister gave it to me).  The screen keeps flashing white and patterns of black and white.  Oh, wait a minute.  As soon as I started typing the sentence about what it was doing it stopped.  Could it be that easy?  No way.

Earlier today I went to two wine tastings at liquor stores in Herkimer, NY (you know, where I live), both of which had a further local connection.  Vintage Spirits had brownies by Utica Bread Company.  Valley Wine and Liquor featured wines by Villa Verona Vineyard, in nearby Verona, NY.  So I was not just sipping free wine; I was supporting local businesses who were supporting other local businesses.  By the way, I also purchased wine.  I don’t just sip for free.

When I got home, there was a message on my answering machine from my sister, Cheryl.  She has a whole day of Mohawk Valley adventures planned.  Oh boy!  I bet I’ll get a week’s worth of blog posts out of that!

Here’s an interesting thing:  when I was typing away, getting the previous two paragraphs without too much problem, my computer was behaving itself.  After “adventures planned,” I hit a dry spot.  I sat here looking at the screen thinking, “Now what?”  Soon enough the screen started its psycho shit.

Do you suppose there is a lesson here?

Sounds like some half-baked philosophy to me.  But, hey, it’s Lame Post Friday.  Half-baked philosophy is welcome!

And I’m over 200 words.  Hope to see you all on Scattered Saturday.

 

Is It a Saying or a Cliche?

Another common saying revisited:   Pull yourself up by your bootstraps.

I once heard somebody say it was a good way to land on your ass.  Ain’t that the truth!

I’m not saying you will inevitably land on your ass.  However, it seems to me you’d better have strong bootstraps, killer abs, and a completely non-stick surface.  Of course you might have these things and you may, indeed, make the bootstrap thing work.

Yes, I know it is just an expression.  It means, if I am not mistaken, that rather than wallow in your problems you can use your own power to overcome them or, to return to the metaphor, rise above them.  However (still in the metaphor), I’m thinking there are easier ways to rise.

For example, you might push yourself up, maybe even rolling over onto your front side to get more power from your arms.  Tis would work best if you are on a clean, dry surface rather than a muddy, mucky one. In other words, it depends on the problem.  Maybe sometimes it is better to not worry about presenting the tough, I-got-this-covered persona and just get up the best way you can.

You could also pull yourself up.  This, of course, requires something sturdy and firmly fastened to pull on, for example, a strong rope tied by a square knot to a solid wall.  How did the rope get there, you may ask?  Well, maybe you put it there earlier, in case of just such an emergency.  Maybe it just happened to be there.  Maybe a friend put it there.

Ah yes, my favorite aid to rising above our problems:  the hand of a friend.

Some may argue that this is not necessarily reliable, or that it is far better to depend only on one’s self, or that it is foolish to spend so much time and energy dissecting an old metaphor that few people use any more anyways.

There may be merit to these arguments.  I don’t know; I’m no genius.  I’m just a silly blogger enjoying Lame Post Friday.  Have a marvelous weekend, everyone.

 

Waiting for 19 Crimes

I thought I would take today’s Friday Lame Post to give an update on my 30 Days Without Wine.  Or you may call it 30 Days of Whine, although I must confess to doing more than my fair share of kvetching even with the wine.  Be that as it may, this is Day 27.  Yes, I’ve been counting.  How else would I know when I got to 30?

Earlier today the little devil on my shoulder (you know, like in the cartoons, when the character has a little version of himself in horns on one shoulder and one with a halo on the other?) kept saying, “27 is practically 30.  Aren’t you being a little anal retentive about this?” She went on to say, “Anyways, isn’t this no alcohol thing a bit self-aggrandizing?  Just another way of calling attention to yourself? Shouldn’t you just get over yourself and have a beer?”  I didn’t even know she knew the word “self-aggrandizing.”

The Devil Me would probably also call me out on thinking something magical might happen if I go all 30 days.  How illogical and immature, she would say.  Of course I stopped listening to that bitch when I remembered she is also the one who thinks I’m such a terrible writer.

The Angel on my other shoulder did not contribute a whole lot to the discussion.  She merely pointed out that while PROBABLY nothing magical would happen on Day 30, how would I know if I didn’t wait that long?  Anyways, there isn’t a bottle of dry red in the house, and that is what I chiefly feel like drinking.  For Day 31 I have promised myself a bottle of 19 Crimes, one of my favorites.  I think that’s worth waiting three more days for.

Right now I am reinforcing my dry behavior by watching World’s Dumbest Partiers (why is my computer underlining “partiers”?  That must be a word! What else would you call these people?).  I don’t imagine the one little glass of 19 Crimes I intend to have on Tuesday will cause me to act like one of those guys.  However, if it does, I promise to write a blog post about it.

 

Lame But Not Lush

Well, here it is Friday at the sweats on, bra off portion of the evening.  Regular readers are saying, “Didn’t she leave something out?  For example, wine drinking?”  About that…

Christmas Day I had a rather dreadful headache.  I did not think I really tied one on, but I had been indulging in the white wine Christmas Eve.  My mother suggested I go a month without drinking, to see if it had any effects on the headaches.  Naturally I do everything my mother tells me (she would probably offer a different opinion about that, but I believe she would be referring to some time in the previous century so we need not regard it).

Full disclosure:  I had a glass of wine Christmas Day and maybe a glass or two the day after. But beginning December 27 until the present day (January 8, 2016), I have been dry. No, I don’t want a medal, I’m just SAYING!

We all know I love my wine (at least anybody who has been paying the least bit of attention) (not that I flatter myself that everybody pays attention to me).  It is definitely an enjoyable part of my weekend, and sometimes a welcome treat on a week night.  But I don’t think of myself as a lush or somebody with a problem.

Then again.

The fact that I’m talking about it AT ALL makes me paranoid.  If it’s not a problem, then it shouldn’t be a problem, now, should it?  It shouldn’t even make a blog post.  Oh dear.   And in fact, it is not a problem.  I mean, I’m not sitting here WISHING I had a glass of Pinot.  I did not have to grip the steering wheel as I drove home from work to keep from pulling in at the liquor store.  I haven’t even been thinking about, for example, the cool, dry tang of an unoaked  Chardonnay…  Just kidding.  I had to sit here and compose that Chardonnay line.

But if I’m not thinking about it, that insidious inner critic asks, then why am I writing about it?

Ah, I find the answer to that quite simply:  it’s what I call the Doughnut Effect.  As soon as you decide you can’t have something, what is the first thing you want?  That’s right!  And then what you do is try not to think about it.  OK, right now, try not to think about doughnuts,because you can’t have any.

I bet some people stopped reading this blog and are halfway to Krispy Kreme as we speak.  As for me, I have successfully taken my mind off the long-stemmed glass of fermented grape.

But I may be making a trip to the in-store bakery section of Hannaford.  Happy Friday, everyone.