Tag 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.

Beyond Lame

It is a rare day when I can’t even seem to write a post about Why I Can’t Write a Post Today. Then again, it is Lame Post Friday. How lame is it to not even be able to write a lame post?

In my defense… oh, never mind my defense. It’s just more kvetching about my ill health. What in the world is the matter with me anyways? All I do is complain. Then again, the more you complain, the longer God lets you live, according to an older sister of mine.

That is pretty much what I wrote at work. Then I worked on my novel, so at to ease my guilt, and wrote a letter, because I like to write a letter. My usual method while at work is to think about my blog post while working then write it on a break. I had other things to think about today. I’m going wine tasting with the girls tomorrow. That is, the girls in my family. I could go into some half-baked philosophy about how hanging out with your family is both more and less pressure than hanging out with friends, but quite frankly, I’m afraid some of my family might read this. Probably they won’t, but you never know.

In the meantime, my headache is back, so to avoid more tiresome kvetching, I will end this post. Just barely over 200 words. I say it’ll do.

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.

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.

More Lighthearted than Literary

I’m having a Middle-aged Musings Monday and I’m not apologizing for it (I say a little defensively).

I actually had very little to muse about. However, I have the habit of picking up a book while I wait for my computer to boot up. Right now it’s A Writer’s Diary by Virginia Woolf (Harcourt, Brace, Jovanovich, New York, 1953). Today I came across the following: “Writing is not in the least an easy art. Thinking what to write, it seems easy; but the thought evaporates, runs hither and thither.”

And here we come to the ugly truth about me. For me thinking about what to write is never easy. My mind runs hither and thither or else seems to have evaporated. However, once I manage to put pen to paper or fingers to keyboard, words come out. It’s easy!

OK, all together now: Cindy, you’re no Virginia Woolf.

I actually say it with no feelings of shame or inferiority. I adore Virginia Woolf, admire her writing intensely, don’t know why I don’t read more of it. Could I write like Virginia Woolf? Or rather, could I write more betterly than what I do? Could I be admired by the snobby intellectuals? Would my stuff eventually be read by students of literature with varying degrees of loathing, envy or mystification?

I’m thinking not. I’m thinking I am more lighthearted than literary, and I don’t mind that a bit. We all write what we can. If I could only write more than what I do, publish and get paid for some of it, well, I would be exactly the kind of writer I aspire to be.

No Oomph?

I was thinking today that I could very easily end up writing a blog entirely about How I Can’t Write a Blog Post. I would probably want to call it something different from Mohawk Valley Girl, though.

Well, I don’t think anybody could blame me for not having any Mohawk Valley adventures last week; I was sick. So what can I write about this week? If I had more oomph, I would come home from work, have a Mohawk Valley adventure and write about it. And here we come to the ugly truth about me.

As I search for something new to say about not having anything to say, I was surprised just now when my computer seemed to consider “oomph” a word. I thought it was, you know, one of those words people use that isn’t really a word. It means, you know, whatever it seems to mean in the sentence. I thought the word origin was the noise people make when they heft something heavy.

I looked it up in the dictionary after writing the above paragraph (Steven keeps one by the computer) (The American Heritage Dictionary, Third Edition, New York, 1992). It says: “n. Slang. 1. Spirited vigor. 2. Sex appeal [Of expressive orig.]”

So it seems I am right about the word origin. I guess I used it to mean spirited vigor. I mean, not to brag, but I have PLENTY of sex appeal. Sex appeal in SPADES! DRIPPING with sex appeal!

Sex appeal, as you may know, is of very little use in the composition of blog posts.

I hope you have enjoyed this week’s Wuss Out Wednesday.

Writing This Time

Well, I did write something today, but this isn’t it.

I started to write a post on the last cheesy movie I saw. When I was watching it, I had a lot to say, although most of it took the form of, “You’d better not hurt that turtle!” and “Helen! Get out of there!” The post should eventually find its way to this space (doesn’t that sound like it will get there with no help from me?). Today, though, it seemed to be taking off in all directions (how’s that for anthropomorphizing a piece of writing?).

Feeling the need to change gears, I turned a page of my notebook (actually turned back a page, just to give you an idea of how organized my notebook is) and wrote a half page or so on my novel. My novel, in case I haven’t mentioned, is not going very well. Far from going off in all directions, it seems to be sitting dead still. It’s like some misshapen blob; I huff and puff and push it, but it won’t start rolling. Sooner or later I will get it to the edge of a hill (or cliff) and will go head over tail, jouncing wildly. Doesn’t that sound like fun?

Like yesterday, I do not despair. For one thing, my sinus problems (I probably shouldn’t say it out loud or I will jinx myself) seem to be receding. I don’t say my head isn’t fuzzy, because it still is (or was that obvious?), but for the first time in days I can conceive the possibility of perhaps feeling a little bit better someday.

Woohoo!

I Do Not Despair

After writing yesterday’s post, I felt indefinably better and thought I would go write something else to see if it made me feel better yet. I thought I could report any results today, on Wrist to Forehead Sunday.

Some of you are probably saying, “We know: she didn’t write anything, and now she’s sitting there with her wrist on her forehead, typing with one hand to tell us about it.”

Well, the joke’s on you, because I am typing with two hands. Still, the writing something else did not go as well as hoped. My brain still felt fuzzy. I thought I could watch a cheesy movie and write about it in the TV Journal. This is a technique that has served me well in the past. Yesterday, not so much.

I would start to write stuff, then the damn movie would go into a long sequence with no dialogue. I can’t keep my eyes on the screen and write in a notebook. My handwriting is messy enough when I can look at it! As dialogue returned, I thought of a number of things I could write in the TV Journal, but my fuzzy brain betrayed me. I knitted instead.

Today, I thought instead of Wrist to Forehead Sunday, I would try for a pedestrian post, so went for a walk with Steven and Tabby. This seemed like a fruitful idea: the weather was drop dead gorgeous. There might be fall/Halloween decorations to observe. Other people might be out walking that I could interact with or at least describe.

Um, no. It was a very pleasant walk, but quite uneventful. I know, that doesn’t usually stop me. Come to think of it, it hasn’t stopped me today. Two paragraphs about the walk after four paragraphs about me trying to write. My word count is higher than yesterday! Woohoo!

Regarding future plans, I do not despair of writing a post about the cheesy movie I saw yesterday. And I’m going downstairs right now to watch another monster flick. And, who knows, as the week progresses, perhaps my head with unfuzz, and I will be back to having Mohawk Valley Adventures.

Stay tuned!

I Whine, Then I Write

A few days ago, when I was taking kind of a blogger’s sick day, I speculated that had I stayed home and napped, drunk tea and read all day rather than going to work, I would have felt better and been able to write a better post. Today I had the opportunity to test that theory.

If you’re guessing I discovered the answer was not so much, give yourself a pat on the back, if you are able to do so without dislocating your shoulder.

Yes, I am still ill. Tuesday will make a week, but I think I will make bold to call my primary care physician on Monday to book an appointment. In the meantime, I need a blog post for today. Naturally I did not go running. I did not even feel up to a slow, gentle stroll with my schnoodle, Tabby. As I made my way upstairs and waited for the computer to get to the right page, all I could think was, “I can’t write a post! What can I write a post about? All I can say in a post is that I feel sick and I can’t write a post!”

Boohoo for me. Sorry about that.

The fact is, now that I am typing and words are appearing on the screen before me, I feel somewhat better. Still headachey, still light-headed, but insensibly somewhat better. Could it be the magic of writing? Or has the caffeine from the tea I just drank kicked in?

No matter, I am over 200 words. I have long decreed that an acceptable length for a blog post. But this somewhat better feeling is so interesting, I may go downstairs and try to write something else.

I’ll report on it tomorrow, on Wrist to Forehead Sunday.