Category Archives: Lame Post Friday

I Daresay I Repeat Myself

I’ve got the dreaded Type It In Then Backspace Over It disease. I think I have started blog posts with that line or something similar before. However, this is the third time I’ve tried to begin this post, I have backspaced over two beginnings so far, it is almost 8 p.m. and I want to get on with my Friday.

I’ve done three things since work which have previously provided perfectly acceptable blog posts: I went running, I tasted wine at a Valley Wine and Liquors, and I got my hair cut at Hot Spot Salon and Spa. Partway through my run I realized I could not write a running commentary. All I could think about was my wet feet. Two running commentaries in one week is OK. Two running commentaries about wet feet is whiny and not very interesting.

I had a vague thought that I could do a silly post about getting dressed for my hair appointment. I’ve written about my wardrobe tribulations before with some success (or do I flatter myself?). Then I didn’t really feel like writing about me being fat and not having many clothes.

Wine tasting is often good for a post. When I remember my wine tasting notebook and take notes about the wines I taste. I actually started to write about my haircut. Couldn’t quite get the lead.

Then again it is Lame Post Friday. What could be more lame than a post about Why I Can’t Write a Post Today? Hope to see you all on Saturday.

Now We Know Why I’m Not on the Best Seller List

Lame Post Friday follows Non-Sequitur Thursday as surely as night follows day. I can’t say as surely “as spring follows winter” because many of us here in the Mohawk Valley are wondering when spring will come if ever. Oh, I know winter won’t last forever. I’m just afraid we will skip straight to summer. However, my purpose today is not to complain about the weather but to entertain with some random observations and half-baked philosophy.

And here is where I make a note to myself: when I see something worthy of being a random observation during the week I should WRITE IT DOWN. However, thinking of that makes me remember a bit of half-baked philosophy I can share. At least, I don’t know how philosophical it is. It is a hoary piece of writer advice you see everywhere, and I would like to address it.

Keep a notebook by your bed, the advice says. When you come up with a brilliant idea in the middle of the night — perhaps in a dream — you can make an immediate note of it. You will most likely not remember it in the morning. As far as that goes, it is true. I often wake up from a dream, think, “What a great novel that would make!” Then fall back asleep and forget it.

Once in a while, though, I do remember it. I’ve even been known to go so far as to write it down. Guess what? When I look at it in the morning, I find out that it ain’t so brilliant after all. When it makes sense at all. When I can read my own handwriting.

I suppose it is still good advice to write it down. After all, what if it really is brilliant? In that case I might like to remember it. So noted. In fact, I do sleep with a notebook and pen handy. Also, at least one book, a flashlight, my Bible, a handkerchief and a bottle of water (in case anybody was making comparisons with their own bedside).

However, all my life I have suffered from insomnia. The older I get, the more unhappy it makes me the next day. Therefore, I confess that I do not often waste time chasing down elusive writing ideas when to me the operative thing to do is to go back to sleep.

And now the operative thing to do is to go back to enjoying my Friday. I hope you are doing the same.

But You Should Have Read That Post in My Head

So there I was trying to write a blog post when it suddenly became clear: what I composed in my head while I was working (it’s OK, it’s the kind of job I can daydream and do properly) does not necessarily translate through my pen and onto the paper.

Oh, there are the Know-It-Alls gearing up to say, “I could have told you that would happen. You can’t THINK about things before you write them, you have to just WRITE.” Blah, blah, blah. I think I know better than to listen to those yahoos by now. Yes, sometimes it is better to sit down at the page (or screen) tabula rasa as it were and see what comes out. Sometimes it helps to think about it first. How much thinking you ought to do varies.

That last sentence is the crux of the matter. The thing is, any piece of writerly advice — even wise, insightful advice (and any advice that begins with a sniff and “I could have told you that would happen” is probably neither wise nor insightful) — is only good some of the time. Every piece of writing is different. What works for one may be a disaster for another. Likewise, one writer’s Rosetta Stone is another writer’s brick wall (ooh, isn’t that a nice metaphor?) (now I’m remembering another piece of writerly advice: if you write something particularly fine, strike it out. I forget who said it).

Another thing about advice is: most people like to give it, few people like to take it. I don’t much like to listen to advice myself, especially if I haven’t asked for it. So anybody gearing up to offer advice on this blog post, NEVER MIND! Unless you’d like to leave a comment. I like when people leave comments. But if you comment with advice, I will probably not follow it.

In case anybody hasn’t noticed, today is Lame Post Friday.

Or I Could Write a Better Blog Post

I feel less ill than I felt yesterday, yet more ill than I felt this morning. However, I am not making this post to whine about my ills (although, as I pointed out yesterday, a sorrow shared is a sorrow halved), but to tell the rest of the story I began yesterday. I think that will work for Lame Post Friday.

To re-cap for those just tuning in: I was at work. I was supposed to do laundry after work but had forgotten detergent and quarters. I called my husband Steven on my first break. I laid out what I saw as my options:

“I can go home, upset the dog, get the detergent and quarters, get a late start on the laundry. That would have the advantage that the detergent definitely would not be frozen.” With the weather we have been having lately, that is a concern. “Or, I can go to the ATM and get some money out.” After all, it was payday, there should be money in the bank. “Or, I can go to Wal-Mart, buy socks and underwear, and bag laundry till next week.”

“Do that,” Steven said. Do I have the world’s best husband or what?

I called my house a few hours later, leaving a message I hoped Steven would get on his lunch break. I told him I was going straight home and to bed after work. I would go commando and find some socks somewhere for Friday. It’s not that I need to inform my husband of my every move. Only I was sure he expected me to stop by his place of employment and say hi after I had purchased the underwear.

I hope none of my followers are hitting the “stop following” button because I’ve been talking about my underwear. This isn’t usually that sort of a blog. I’m sure I’ll feel better tomorrow and write a nice blog post. Happy Friday, everyone.

Better to Have Lame and Lost?

Lame Post Friday is meant to be lame. Don’t hate, don’t judge.

I spent my breaks at work today writing my play (the one I mentioned yesterday). I went back to work with a glowing feeling of I LOVE TO WRITE. What are those writers thinking, the ones who say, “Oh, I hate to write but I love to have written.” Yeah, yeah, to have written is nice, but I LOVE TO WRITE (sorry, must put it all in caps).

Of course some days I love it more than others. Which makes me think of running. I love to run. I love the physical act, I love looking around at the scenery while I do it, I love the way it makes me feel. Most of the time. Other times, I do not feel good when I do it AT ALL. Those are the days when at least I am glad to have run. In other words, I shall not judge the other writers (nor hate on them; see first paragraph).

It is beastly cold in the Mohawk Valley today. I think I have written other posts about my brain freezing up when it is very cold. Much like it melts in extreme heat. This Mohawk Valley Girl requires moderate temperatures in which to write, or at least in which to write anything good.

Which, I suppose, explains this blog post. All I can do is say again, don’t hate, don’t judge. Hope to see you on Scattered Saturday.

I Say: Better than Whiskey

OK, so we’re all agreed that it’s all right if I do foolish posts till the play is over on Sunday. Um, I may also need Monday to recover from the cast party. In any case, today is Lame Post Friday, so we knew I wouldn’t be sweating it too much if today is, well, lame.

I had hoped for a marginally non-lame post. I thought I might do a minor preview of coming attractions, especially since I am planning to have at least one Mohawk Valley adventure tomorrow before the play. This quickly became a source of stress to me when I realized that although I plan to have an adventure, I do not actually have an adventure planned. How about a little half-baked philosophy about that?

Sometimes the best adventures are unplanned. I can’t think of an example offhand, but I’m sure that is a well-known contention, beloved by many. Or is it just a rationalization for people who have not planned? How many times have you said, “Well, that was an adventure,” just to make yourself feel better? Oh, I suppose YOU never did (you know who you are). I’m not talking to you.

And here is another half-baked philosophical question: Why are some people so down on rationalizations when sometimes they make you feel so much better? Aren’t mental gymnastics better than drugs? Shall I rationalize that faux pas or just have a shot of whiskey? MMmmm… whiskey. Better not have any of that before tonight’s performance.

For local readers I will just repeat: it’s Busybody at Ilion Little Theatre, Ilion, NY. Click on the link for more information (I was so proud of myself when I learned how to make a link). And happy Friday, everyone.

Break a Lame

I did say I might post late (and lame) so I could write about how the play went. Full disclosure: that isn’t the only reason. I was just too flustered earlier to write. I was pretty sure the play would go well. After all, the script is strong, the cast is talented, and everybody has been working hard. Still, one can’t help but be nervous.

At work today a friend was keeping a count for me. He started about twenty minutes to eleven.

“Nine hours and 18 minutes till curtain,” he said.

Luckily our work spaces are not all that close, so I didn’t get the update every few minutes. I did not need any help getting butterflies in my stomach. All I could do to counter it was continue to look over my lines (while on break) and think about my character (which I am capable of doing while I accomplish my job).

Briefly, then, the play went great. The audience laughed a lot. I confess, there were some mistakes and dropped lines. However, everybody helped everybody else and the performance ran smoothly. I don’t know why I still feel flustered. Perhaps because I have five more performances to get through.

Still, the first performance is out of the way and went well. I am looking forward to doing it again. And eventually to finding something other than the play to write about.

Just to reiterate, the play is Busybody at Ilion Little Theatre, 13 Remington Ave, Ilion, NY, Jan. 31, Feb. 1, 6, 7 and 8, 8 p.m. Friday and Saturdays, 2 p.m. Sundays. For more information visit www.ilionlittletheatre.org, or Like Ilion Little Theatre Club on Facebook.

Brevity is the Soul of Lame

The Law of Inertia applies to writing. To those who do not remember 8th grade Physics (I think my school just called it “Science”) (and I’m pretty sure 8th grade is when I learned this, although I could be wrong), the Law of Inertia states that an object at rest tends to remain at rest while an object in motion tends to remain in motion until worked on by an outside force.

A writer not writing tends to continue not writing. Or in my case, a blogger who spends several days composing last minute foolishness at the keyboard tends not to handwrite in her notebook during breaks at work.

That is what I handwrote in my notebook earlier today during a break at work (my computer is underlining “handwrite” and “handwrote” but I am going to pretend that they are words). You see, I knew it was Lame Post Friday, when it will not matter (per my own self-imposed rules) (which you may have noticed are subject to change) if I go the Foolishness at the Keyboard route. But yet, I wanted something more. After all, in the past I have written my lame post prior to typing it in. Now I anm trying to remember one so I can one make one of those pingback thing. Hmmm, nothing is coming. Well, you know what I mean.

What happened was, I wrote those two paragraphs then felt guilty for not studying my lines. You know, for that play I’m in. Also, it cannot be denied, looking at words somebody else wrote is much easier than coming up with words of my own. However, difficult though it sometimes is, I LIKE coming up with words of my own. This post is now over 250 of them.

250 words is not a long post. I’ve been reading other blogs and I know many run longer. However, they say brevity is the soul of wit. And it you can’t be witty, it is best to be brief. There, that covers me either way. Happy Friday, everyone.

It’s Friday

I know I have been having a lot of lame posts lately. However, I think we all know how much I treasure my Lame Post Friday. It’s Friday. Let’s be lame.

I actually had a few ideas during the day about what I could write about for my blog post. I thought I might actually write something earlier than when I sat down at the computer to start typing. I studied my lines for the play instead. Oh, and worked on a letter to my sister. OK, I also worked on a cryptogram puzzle and a crossword. Maybe if I had more breaks on my job…

The break from frigid cold temperatures in the Mohawk Valley did not last very long. This morning when we woke up it was actually pleasant, relatively speaking that is. I put on short sleeves. For a while at work, short sleeves were OK. When I left work the wind chill was back. It was… let’s just say not pleasant.

I cooked something not too bad for supper. I cooked some rice in the rice cooker which was my favorite Christmas present. While it cooked, I chopped up a pork chop (we only had one because the package had an odd number). When it was almost done I added broccoli from the freezer and mushrooms from a can. When the rice was done, I put that in along with some spices.

Anyone who has been reading this blog will know that I have had… what kind of week? Stressful, busy, not a bad week, but not a good writing week. I think this Friday post has been no better. But it’s Friday. Let’s get on with the weekend.

A Little Fresh Air, a Little Sunshine, a Little Lame Post

Well, it is Lame Post Friday, but it is a false Friday for me, because I work tomorrow, which I don’t usually (don’t hate). However, I am feeling kind of lame. I will attempt a Pedestrian Post about a walk I took with my schnoodle, Tabby this afternoon.

It was something of a big deal to me to get the walk in, because we have not taken our usual walks this week. The reason for this is that it has been horribly cold in the Mohawk Valley. Monday was not only cold, it was snowing in a most ferocious manner (I believe the proper expression is “like a sonofabitch”) (which is actually one of my favorite expressions, but I digress). It was actually kind of OK with me to not walk, as I had rehearsal every night (actually, Monday’s was cancelled due to the weather, but a walk was clearly ineligible that day).

Today I had no rehearsal and it was supposed to be in the mid to upper 20s. As I often observe, perspective is everything. 20 degrees looks a whole lot warmer going up to it than it looked going down to it (kind of like 145 pound in opposite directions, but let’s not go there tonight). Work was warmer, so I felt confident.

As I left work I felt less confident. When I had gotten Tabby into her harness and got out the door, I was even less sanguine. However, I persevered, and we set off. Tabby was extremely happy to be going and pulled me down the sidewalk. I plowed through the snow behind her and wondered if I shouldn’t have shoveled the sidewalk in front of my house again. Several people had apparently walked that way, so I thought it was OK for now.

We walked up to German Street and turned toward Prospect. It was certainly cold. I wished I had found Tabby’s coat. Yes, I know, she has a natural fur coat. I think she could have used another layer. She trotted along quite happily, stopping to sniff the usual number of times. A car drove by and a young man yelled something out the window at me. I could not understand a word. Was he yelling at me or the lady who seemed to be waiting to cross the street up ahead? I was going to ask her if she had heard, but she avoided eye contact.

We crossed the street and continued down German. I thought Tabby was shaking a little. Her breed does shake under stress, but she had nothing to be stressed about. I was afraid somebody else would come along and say, “Why are you making your poor little dog stay out in the cold? Can’t you see she’s shaking?” She stopped to sniff a bush, seemingly more intent on that than on the weather. When she was finished, I asked, “You want to go back home?” She immediately pulled me in that direction.

And then turned down Prospect. That was OK; it wouldn’t be a whole lot further to go around this block back home. Two kids were in front of a house playing with a brown Labrador-looking dog on a leash. The dog got away and ran across the street toward us, dragging the leash.

“Good dog, good dog,” I said, hoping that was true. Apparently it was. I grabbed the leash. The little boy ran across the street, all apologetic, and retrieved the dog. She got away again and came back to us. She sniffed Tabby till Tabby got mad and barked. Apparently Tabby is kind of “do as I say, not as I do” about sniffing.

After the boy got his dog back again, Tabby started to run toward home. Luckily for me it was not her top speed. I still had to jog to keep up. This was OK for me, because I have not been running in a while. I realize half a block will not count as going running, but I like to think every little bit helps.

I was glad when our walk was over. I will find Tabby’s coat before we go out in the frigid cold again. Still, it was good to get out. A little fresh air, a little sunshine, and a little bit of something to write a blog post about.