Category Archives: Non Sequitur Thursday

Actually, I Prefer Paul Verhoeven

I said to my husband Steven, “I can’t have a Non-Sequitur Thursday after I had a Tired Tuesday AND  a Wuss-out Wednesday.”  And he said, “They expect if of you by now,” quickly adding, “in a good way.”

On overtime.  In a play.  Having wine on the deck right now.  Have to go to dinner or stay here and cook something before getting to bed early for more overtime tomorrow… Yeah, I’m going to make another silly post.

I really do love writing a blog.  I love trying to come up with something every day.  I sadly cannot say “something different,” because sometimes I fear I am depressingly the same.  “I can’t write anything today!”  or “I must write a silly post today”  or… you know all my variations on a theme (perhaps that would have been a good title, but then it wouldn’t have been Non-Sequitur Thursday).

One reason we sat out on the deck drinking wine is that we were waiting for a friend to come over and borrow an army thing of mine.  I hope he does not mind my mentioning that. I thought I would bring it up for the sake of plugging his blog, The Dorky Daddy.  I really like that blog.

Speaking of liking blogs, I was going to write a post titled, “So Many Blogs, So Little Time,” because I don’t always have time to read all the blogs I follow or even check out other blogs who have Liked or Followed me.  Sorry, fellow bloggers!  I’ll try to do better!

In the meantime, Happy Thursday, everyone. And I believe we are going OUT for dinner.  I may even have another glass of wine.

 

Did Somebody Say Non-Sequitur Thursday?

OK, hands up, who’s going to the Ilion Days Craft Fair?

Full disclosure:  I have never fully taken advantage of Ilion Days, a celebration that lasts for over a week and includes village wide garage sales, the delightfully named Doo-Dah Parade, a Craft Fair, and more.  I’ve gone to the garage sales in years past.  This year’s were last weekend, when I was busy hydrating for the Boilermaker.

Further full disclosure:  I don’t know that much about the “and more.”  OK, I don’t know anything about “and more.”  I don’t even know much about the Craft Fair, but I’m going to be there.

I may have mentioned that I am a member of  Team Uncle Leo for Sitrin’s Stars and Strips Run/Walk to benefit veterans’ rehabilitation programs.   On Saturday, July 18 beginning at 10 a.m. at Ilion’s Central Plaza, Team Leo will have a table at the craft fair.  We plan to sell water, soda, chips, candy and baked goods.  We are also offering several desirable items in a raffle (including an afghan in camouflage colors made by me).

As it turns out, I may not personally be there at the crack of 10, because I may have to work, but somebody will be there.  I hope to be there at some point.

Right now, I’ve got to go finish my contribution to the baked goods portion of our table.  I’m a little disappointed that I shall once again miss the Doo-Dah Parade.

This One’s Not About The Boilermaker

One trick that can help when you’re having trouble writing is to change your surroundings.  I tried that trick today with a trip to the Utica Public Library.  Full disclosure:  I also thought I could write about it for Mohawk Valley Living, my favorite magazine. They’ve liked pieces I’ve written about other libraries.  For another reason, a friend had told me the library was worth a visit because of its architecture.

So with lots of reasons, I set out.  I had one errand first, a stop at First Source Federal Credit Union to make a deposit in my Mad Money account.  This stop was a little bit sad for me, because I used to walk there with my dog, Tabby.  They did not mind if Tabby went inside; they usually gave her a treat. Well, Tabby is over the rainbow bridge now, and I mustn’t neglect my Mad Money account.  That task didn’t take long, and I was soon headed down the highway.

And decided to detour into Frankfort, to get a cup of coffee at my new favorite store, The Locavore.  Yes, I am trying to hydrate for the Boilermaker 15K so ought not to drink too much caffeine.  On the other hand, I was feeling down and dull and wanted a pick-me-up. I had previously had a Locamocha there which was delicious but wondered if I shouldn’t try something new.  The lady there recommended a Bulletproof, which included, I think, butter and coconut oil.

“It’ll fill you up,” she promised. “You can skip lunch.”

As a matter of fact, I had already eaten lunch, but I thought maybe I could forgo an afternoon snack. I really liked the Bulletproof.  It was indeed substantial.  I happily sipped it as I drove down 5S to Utica.  Soon I was on Genesee Street, looking around nervously.

I love riding on Genesee Street when somebody else is driving, so I can look around and admire the different buildings.  Driving is a little nerve-wracking when one is not used to it, which of course I am not.  Additionally, although I had noted that the library is at 303 Genesee St., I did not know how far down that was or even on which side of the street. Predictably, I could not see any numbers till I was practically there, and when I did see them of course I was in the wrong lane.

Just to give you yet another excuse to laugh at me (as if there is any shortage of that), I drove around the block at least three times looking for a parking space.  First I couldn’t figure out how to get into the parking lot.  When I found the entrance, the parking lot was full.  At least, there may have been a space in the last row, but the painted arrows told me not to go that way.  At last I found a space by the curb out front.

Do you hate posts that take you to the doorway then sign off?  Well, just in case you do, I’ll leave off at the curb, sipping the last of my Bulletproof before heading in to see if the change of locale will help my pen.  Spoiler alert: It didn’t, but it was worth the drive. And I thought the drive would be worthy of a Non-Sequitur Thursday post.

 

Aunt Cindy Killed Somebody?

Don’t you think that’s a catchy title for Non-Sequitur Thursday? I do so love an eye-catching headline.  However, I am going to go on to explain that one and talk about killing somebody else, so it is not exactly a non-sequitur.  I ask you to bear with me.

I was on the phone with my sister, Diane, who also writes novels. I had written her a long letter lamenting my novel woes.  I had talked about character and plot, which I rarely do.  For one reason, once you’ve talked about it, you often feel you don’t have to write it.  Must maintain that oomph, after all.  For another reason, the person you’re telling it to might roll their eyes and say, “That’s been done.”  I hate that.  However, desperate times call for desperate measures, so I wrote the letter.

Diane, alas, did not have any specific advice for me.   It had been a couple of weeks since I had written the letter, so I updated her on a couple of  scenes I had written.

“I killed off another character,” I said. “But not one of the ones I was talking about in the letter.”

I heard my niece in the background say, “Aunt Cindy killed somebody?”

I don’t know why she sounded surprised.

The reason I’m using this admittedly thin story for a post is that I must post and run today.  Steven and I have a read-through for a play we are in.  Perhaps you read a previous post where I spoke of how we had auditioned for Roxy, which is being presented by the Herkimer County Historical Society and Ilion Little Theatre Club.  We are very excited to be part of this original production, which is written by a local author and concerns a local, historical case.

The play is about Roxalana Druse, who killed her husband in the Town of  Warren.  She was tried in the  Herkimer County Courthouse, imprisoned and later hanged in the 1843 Jail, which is right across the street.   I believe much of the dialogue is taken from actual court testimony.

Guess what part I got. I’ll give you a hint:  see the headline of this post.

Found It

It never fails that when you think of that one perfect earring to complement the outfit at hand, you cannot find it. I know, I know, if I would organize my jewelry and put my things away when I was done with them, I would not have these problems.  Then perhaps I could think of better leads for my blog posts.

Then again, my disorganized readers are sighing with relief, “I’m not the only one!”  My organized readers are shaking their heads, enjoying that frisson of smug superiority that they probably feel eighty-seven times a day.  Do I have any readers like that?  If I do, you’re welcome.

I have limited time to make this post and not just because I was harrumphing around the house looking for the earring.  I was also harrumphing around my bedroom figuring out something to wear.  We’re going to the theatre tonight (I say it with a la-di-dah, sophisticated tone) (I’d also make a gesture, but I’m typing).

The Players of  Utica are presenting One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.  This is the second weekend.  We tried to go the first weekend, but they were sold out.  You snooze, you lose.  We must leave early, to allow get lost time and find a parking place  time. I feel certain it will be an enjoyable evening.

But I guess my blog post, not so much.  Oh well, what do you want from me on Non-Sequitur Thursday?  Hope to see you on Lame Post Friday.

 

Dear Abby I’m Not

It is often a mistake to give people advice.  They do not appreciate it.

For example, at work today, one guy started pushing another guy with his shoulder.  The other guy pushed back.  Back and forth, back and forth.

“Knock him down and step on his head,” I advised the second guy.

“Knock him down and step on his face!” exclaimed the first guy.

“No, I said, ‘Knock him down and step on his head.'”

A third co-worker asked what was going on.

“She wants him to knock me down and step on my face!”

“No, I said to knock you down and step on your HEAD, that is not the same thing.”

The guy I gave the advice to thought it was a terrible thing for me to tell him to do.

“It’s just an expression,” I told him.  “You know, ‘I’ll knock you down and step on your head!'”

“I’ve never heard that.”

“Oh well, I guess I made it up.”  Still, I’ve been saying it for years.  I’m sure it ought to be a well-known expression by now.

Long story short (I know, too late): He did not take my advice or even appreciate that I offered it.

This is a true story. I thought about it as I was running, and I thought it might be OK for a Non-Sequitur Thursday post.

 

Non-Sequential Chores

Sometimes you just have to do something, anything.

 

I know, this is under the heading of “Well, duh” advice.  However, I have had it demonstrated for me three different times today.  Four if you count the library.  This being Non-Sequitur Thursday, I think it will be appropriate to tell three small but differing stories with a common theme.  Think of it like Love Boat or Fantasy Island (if you don’t get the reference, consider that another non sequitur).

 

Finish That Novel May is not going well.  I seem to spend a lot of time looking at what I have and asking, “What is this?  Where do I go now?  Oh crap!”  Well, today at lunch I just started writing a scene.  And it was good!  It was important!  And dramatic!  I finished that scene and I wanted to pump my fists in the air and shout, “Yes! THAT was a scene!”  I started another scene during the two o’clock break, wrote a little more of it just before going home, and I walked out of that place wanting to sing.

 

I went to the library and worked on another chore that needs must be done, but feel less triumph over that so shall not count it as proof of today’s opening sentence.  However, I was fortunate enough to find a few good books at their ongoing book sale before I left.

 

At home I was hit with a huge wave of  I Can’t Do ANYTHING!  I felt down, dumpy and sad.  Then about ten or fifteen minutes before Steven was due to arrive home I said to myself, “Just clean till he gets home.”  I couldn’t believe how much I got done.  Not everything, of course, because my house is kind of a sty.  But I felt much better and was able to greet my husband with a big smile.

 

Till I confessed all the stuff I had not gotten done, then I felt a little sad again.  One thing I had been going to do was to make a tossed salad for tomorrow’s lunch, including hard-boiled egg.

 

“Do you want me to start the eggs for you?”  Steven asked.  I said OK, because if I couldn’t manage to make the salad I could always eat the eggs for breakfast.

 

Full disclosure:  I forgot to check on the eggs to see when they started boiling.  Luckily Steven remembered before the water had boiled away.  I made the salad.  The eggs were just right.

 

And that made me feel good enough to tackle the other chore I had been putting off for today:  writing my blog post.

 

Is the Blog Post as Bad as the Run?

When I start to run up a hill, I almost never have any doubt that I will make it to the top; it is merely a question of how much it is going to suck.  I said this to myself this afternoon as I ran up the hill to Herkimer College (often referred to as HCCC in this blog) (incidentally, that is read, “H-triple-C”).  Then I tried to calculate exactly how much it actually sucked.  How are these things measured, anyways?

 

Of course no run, however bad, entirely sucks.  For one reason, you are doing it.  The satisfaction of Running Anyways is not to be denied.  When one is working towards a goal — in my case, the Boilermaker 15K — one can also comfort oneself that one is making progress.  When I run up the hill to Hekimer College, another reward is the wonderful views when I get to the top.

 

One plan I had considered for this week was to run Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday.  As may have been expected, I wussed out on Wednesday.  I would accept no excuses from myself today (to give myself some credit, I did not even try to come up with any).  Since I had not run Wednesday and since I am having serious doubts of my ability to run the Boilermaker and not have it suck (see first paragraph), I thought I should run a longish run and include hills.

 

After considering and discarding several routes, I turned up Lou Ambers Drive and headed for the college.  It was not fun.  I wondered if I would ever reach the I Can Rock This stage again.  But I kept going.  Once I got to campus I kept going uphill, by the buildings and around the athletic fields.  Oh, it took a long time.  To be fair, it did not suck the whole time.  It never felt wonderful, but at certain times it was… neutral.

 

At last I was headed down Reservoir Road.  Downhill did not feel as good as it usually does.  For one reason, I worked on my feet all day today.  For another reason, I REALLY need to get to the Sneaker Store in New Hartford, NY, and get new running shoes.  Never mind, I told myself.  Just make up your mind to it your feet are going to hurt ALL THE TIME and don’t worry about it.  I looked around at the distant views and the closer scenery to take my mind off it.  That helped.

 

My previous longest run time had been 41 minutes (I may have said 40 in an earlier blog post, but I checked my running journal and it’s 41).  It was soon apparent I would not get back home in that length of time.   I feared I would be increasing my time by longer than the recommended 10 percent.  I felt that would be OK, because I’m training for the Boilermaker.  I have to get used to running for long periods of time.

 

I ended up running for 46 minutes.  I did not feel pretty terrific, as I often do after a run.  I felt, and still feel tired.  I thought I was too tired to write a blog post.  It seems I was not.  Was I too tired to write a good blog post?  Oh, who cares?  It’s Non-Sequitur Thursday.  Slap on a title and call it a night.

 

My Train of Thought Jumped the Tracks

Over a week ago I asked myself how I could de-funkify (I suppose that’s not a word, but I like it).  It seems I have not yet found the answer, as I sit here on Non-Sequitur Thursday with not a post in sight nor many thoughts in my head.  Another question I have asked before:  What’s a blogger to do?

 

I did not go running (what a surprise).  I took a short walk with my schnoodle Tabby, but nothing blogworthy.  I had thought to fix something interesting for supper and do a cooking post, but felt in too much of a funk to do so.  I finally forced myself to make a tossed salad.  The therapeutic benefits of chopping vegetables are not to be denied.  Unfortunately, today they only lasted as long as the vegetables did.

 

I managed to maintain enough oomph to make some Italian salad dressing (the kind in the envelope where you add oil and vinegar).  Then I made another envelope’s worth and put some stew beef in it to marinade for crock pot purposes tomorrow.  So apparently my funk is not completely incapacitating.

 

Finish That Novel May is progressing.  Not progressing nicely, but I am putting words on paper.  I’ve written a few more scenes.  Actually, they kind of flow one into the other, so it’s more like one long scene.  I was just getting to the exciting part when my break ended.  I hurriedly wrote two more sentences then went back to work.  My boss was near my work area but did not say anything to me.  It’s kind of too bad, because I was all set to say, “I was just getting to the poison!”

 

Oh dear, have I given away a major plot point?  I always say too much!   Oh, OK, not really.  I’m just being dramatic again.  In fact, I think I have said enough for this to count as a blog post.  Perhaps my funk will clear of its own accord in time for Lame Post Friday.

 

Show All Your Work

Twice now this week I’ve gone running.  Twice I have narrated in my head, coming up with some rather witty commentary if I do say so.  Twice I have sat down at the computer and NOT been able to write the post.

 

Well, I can’t wuss out, because this is not Wuss-out Wednesday.  It is Non-Sequitur Thursday.  I shall come up with something non sequential but fun.  Or I’ll write a short, foolish post and slap on a goofy headline that doesn’t really fit.

 

But first I have to start dinner.

 

OK, I cooked the last of the bacon (we don’t often have bacon, but Steven had a craving).  While it cooked I sliced some red onion and opened a can of mushroom pieces and stems.  Then I cooked a couple of cube steaks, seasoning them with Worcestershire sauce, garlic powder and lemon pepper (I used the last of the Worcestershire, but I know Steven put it on the shopping list).

 

When the steaks were almost done, I put on the onions, mushrooms and bacon on them, then covered them with cheese.  Full disclosure: not real good cheese.  We got it to hide Tabby’s medicine in, but it turns out peanut butter works better.

 

Oh yes, I cooked with wine.  I did not put any in the food this time, because I don’t have a whole lot.  Next time I might put it on the food.  I think cube steaks need all the help they can get.

 

In the meantime, I hope this counts as a post, even without a catchy title.