Tag Archives: lame post

As Lame as the Nose on my Face

I know I said on Wuss Out Wednesday I might not have a Lame Post Friday this week. I’m thinking nobody really took that thought seriously. It is Lame Post Friday, and here I go with random observations and half-baked philosophy.

My first observation, and you may judge its random qualities for yourself, is that I am a terrible kvetch. Seriously, I complain all the time. In my defense, I’ve heard that the more you complain, the longer God lets you live. Or, as Rosanne Rosannadanna said, it’s always something (at least, I think Rosanne Rosannadanna said it. It was some Gilda Radner character; I never watched much Saturday Night Live) (oh dear, is that one of the things I should never admit about myself?).

Where was I? Nowhere in particular. Trying not to complain so much. Today at work I realized I was doing it and tried to stop, with indifferent success. Toward the end of the day I thought I achieved a happy medium. I said, “You know, I don’t think I should have taken both the decongestant and the headache medicine. On the brighter side, I don’t have a headache and my nose isn’t stuffed up.”

You see, I looked on the bright side, so I thought that was a step in the right direction (that must qualify as half-baked philosophy). A co-worker said it was good if my nose wasn’t running, because I would have to go catch it.

“I would just let it go,” I admitted. This is what mixing medications does to you. I spent the rest of the day wondering what I might say to someone who then said to me, “Well, it’s as plain as the nose on your face.”

Any suggestions?

What Makes a “Real” Post Anyways?

Having done two “real” blog posts in a row and having at least two more pretty good topics to work with, I just sat here staring at a blank piece of paper and thinking in a vague sort of way about pulling out a book to read. What’s that all about?

I’ve been busily working on my novel and writing blog posts for a number of days now (14, if I’m counting correctly) (um, that is to say, 14 on the novel. I would need to go back and look at the posts to see how many stupid ones were included) (but you see my point).

Where was I? Ah yes, when the writing is going well, you think it is never going to end. “Ah, I’ve got it now,” you say. “Obviously this is the secret: JUST KEEP WRITING. Why didn’t I think of that before?”

And then, of course, it ends.

That was when my break ended. I spent the time till the next break (my job gives me lots of opportunity to think) reflecting on how I can always seem to write about not writing. I spent the next two breaks working on my novel, thus rendering another post on Not Being Able to Write a little hypocritical, to say the least.

I can hear one of you now saying, “So just write your blog post now, what’s the problem?” Well, that’s what I’m doing! I declare today Wuss Out Wednesday. I don’t have too many of those, and I may not have a Lame Post Friday this week, because I have an awesome Mohawk Valley adventure planned for tomorrow (preview of coming attractions).

My only sticky wicket now to how to avoid making tomorrow another Non-Sequitur Thursday. After all, can’t do too many of these silly posts.

It Is Friday, After All

I just wrote (typed, really) a paragraph that I did not find too despicable, then realized I have probably said something quite similar on previous Lame Post Fridays. Perhaps several times. Oh dear.

A long time ago I instituted Lame Post Friday as a way to relax myself and celebrate the weekend. I had recently gone from a job with retail hours to a Monday through Friday job. The thrill of Friday has never quite worn off.

Ooh, that raises a potentially lame topic: When one has a Monday through Friday job, is the Thrill of Friday outweighed by the Drudgery of Monday? And for some people, the sadness begins on Sunday. I’m sitting here trying to think of a descriptive noun for Sunday. Not the Dread of Sunday, because that sounds like we’re dreading Sunday when we’re really talking about the Dread of Monday on Sunday, and that’s just not symmetrical enough for me. I’ll work on it.

In the meantime, I’ll finish out the post with something that amused me on a run that did not make it into the blog post. This will not only be amusing, it will make up for not having a Non-Sequitur Thursday yesterday.

As I ran through Myers Park, I wondered how “Myers” was spelled, in case I wanted to mention it in the blog post. I saw the sign that told how the space was previously a cemetery but the bodies were moved to make it a park. That naturally made me think of the movie Poltergeist, particularly the climactic scene, which I found quite hilarious, with Craig T. Nelson yelling at the real estate guy, “You son of a bitch, YOU DIDN’T MOVE THE BODIES!!!” While rotting corpses surged out of the mud. It was cool.

And that’s my post for today. I hope you all have a lovely weekend.

I Hope I Don’t Regret This Post

There is a saying I’ve seen floating around for years now that I think is pretty half-baked. I would like to take my Friday Lame Post to philosophize about it, half-bakedly of course (or would it be quarter-bakedly, since it started out as half? Something else to philosophize about, done to taste).

For anyone just tuning in (I think I did just get a couple new followers. Hi, guys!), Lame Post Friday is the day I take it easy with random observations and half-baked philosophy. Lately I’ve been heavy on the half-baked, but you’ll have that at my age (middle).

The only things you regret are the things you don’t do.

On the surface of it, it’s pretty profound. I regret that I never went to college. I regret that I never traveled to Europe. I regret that I never tap-danced on Broadway.

But look a little more deeply. According to this philosophy, nobody ever does anything bad. Haven’t you ever been sorry about the hurtful thing you said or did without thinking? Yes, I heard you in the back, piping up with, “I regret that I didn’t keep my mouth shut!” That’s just arguing semantics. In some cases what you do is actually regrettable.

If you would like to see some examples, I refer you to one of my favorite guilty pleasures, World’s Dumbest on TruTV. Thrill Seekers, Partiers, Record Breakers, Motorheads and more, this show features many people doing really stupid things, most of it on purpose. Of course, a lot of those people express no regret. From their hospital bed or on the gurney being loaded into the ambulance, they’re all thumbs up and “Yeah! I went for it!” Well, to each his own, as the old lady said when she kissed the cow. Or have they just disproven my argument?

I think what bothers me is the black-and-white nature of the statement. Why don’t you say, “You often regret the things you don’t do more than the things you do”?

But as long as we’re philosophizing, let’s just throw out that that regret is a colossal waste of time and we are best served by going on from here. I am reminded of what the mother of some friends of mine used to say. When asked did she ever regret not doing some things, she said, “No, because look at all the things I’ve done.”

I wonder if anybody out there was wondering if I would make this personal (I guess it is a personal blog, after all) and share the many things from my past that I regret. Um, I mean the one or two things. Um, I mean, I don’t regret anything! It’s a colossal waste of time!

In other words, NO, I’M NOT GOING TO LIST FOR YOU ALL THE STUPID THINGS I WISH I HAD NEVER DONE! But you could probably ask my family and they would tell you a few.

Hair Today

Well, today is the day. This afternoon, I get shaved as part of a St. Baldrick’s Day event to raise money for children’s cancer research. I begged for donations and got quite a few. Now I’d like to take a few words to honor my hair while it’s still on my head.

I have almost always disliked my hair. That’s pretty typical, I think. Most of us wish we looked different from what we do. People with curly hair want straight and vice versa. Tall people long to be petite, while us shorties envy the statuesque. Oh dear, now I’m getting into half-baked philosophy and it isn’t Lame Post Friday. I’ll stop now.

As a child I had blond hair, very straight. I remember once when my hair was freshly washed and dry, my mother said, “Cindy has hair like an angel.” My dad replied, “Too bad she doesn’t have disposition to match.” The sad thing was, even my hair was not angelic on a regular basis, but let’s not continue with that memory.

In the ’80s (the 1980s, wise guy) (you know who you are), I discovered the miracle of permanents. I went curly. Recently a high school friend posted an old yearbook picture on Facebook. Look at all that hair! I’m a little sorry I don’t know how to add the picture here, but only a little. Why would I want to remind everybody that I used to be much skinnier and cuter than I am now?

I think my favorite way to wear my hair is short and spiky, which look I rocked from the late ’90s till about a year ago. For the past 10 months or so I’ve been growing it out in anticipation of the shave. I’m quite excited to finally have it done.

If anybody wants to make a last minute contribution in honor of my bald pate, here once again is my participant website: http://www.stbaldricks.org/participants/mypage/642777/2013.

I’m Back

I just hate to forgo Lame Post Friday. I know, I know, I took up at least three posts this week being ill. It would, perhaps, behoove me to write a real post today. Unfortunately, as I sit at the keyboard typing at 5:17 p.m., I think that ship sailed. No time to compose and edit! I’ve got to write on the fly!

And as usual, I got nuthin’.

I actually considered and discarded several half-baked philosophies while at work today. I was feeling a little better for the first time. I mean the first time that lasted; since Sunday evening I would feel brief bouts of relief and think, “Ah, the worst is over.” Didn’t last. Oh dear, there I go, back to talking about my health.

Ah, here’s some half-baked philosophy I can live with: it is easy to obsess over the physical.

An example: For years I didn’t obsess over what I ate. I enjoyed food. I got hungry, I ate. Easy. Till one day I decided to go on a diet. It was the Soup Diet. It ruined my life. Suddenly, all I could think about was what I could and couldn’t eat. All I could talk about was the day on the diet I could eat beef. I couldn’t WAIT for banana day!

And I didn’t even lose that much weight.

As a side note (and this might be worth a little more half-baked philosophy): I didn’t learn my lesson about dieting either. I kept trying, usually with the same dumb diet, always without success. Till I discovered the South Beach Diet, which is really only a diet for the first two weeks, then segues into a sensible way of eating. But I digress.

What, I now ask, am I digressing from? This is Lame Post Friday, for heaven’s sake! The whole damn post is a digression! But, whatever. As with Non-Sequitur Thursday, I seem to veer more into Stream of Consciousness, but that really has less of a ring to it.

You Would Cry Too

It’s my Friday and I’ll cry if I want to, cry if I want to, cry if I want to.

OK, that’s all I got. I started to write a post about… I don’t remember what I was writing about but it was going to be too long. I have to get to the theatre tonight. The show must go on! (with gesture)

Actually, I just now took the time to go downstairs and look at what I started to write. It was about Habitat for Humanity. Tonight’s show is a benefit for that fine organization. I will try to write about them tomorrow. I have tomorrow off, so I will have more time for a lengthy post.

Thus explaining my first sentence, and you know what Friday means: Lame Post Friday! Random observations and half-baked philosophy! Here goes…

My first observation is that it would probably have been less trouble to write a short post while on a break at work and then have merely to type it in right now, instead of trying to think of something clever to say. Which leads me into some half-baked philosophy on why do I always have to do things the hard way?

Seriously, why do I? Certain members of my family say it is a family motto: Why do things the easy way when there’s a hard way? Now my question is: why do we so often ask why? Can’t we just accept what is and go from there? Do you suppose this is enough questions for one blog post?

I’m thinking it is enough nonsense. I am over 200 words. My only excuse for a stupid post is that at least it’s short. Hope to see you on Friday, when I will attempt to NOT be lame.

Call It What You Like

I got nuthin.

Should there be an apostrophe after the second n in nuthin? See, even when I use quite terrible grammar I want to be correct. This by way of what we can call either a Blogger’s Sick Day or a Wrist to Forehead Saturday.

I’ve spent all day thinking I had to write a blog post and thinking a topic would magically appear. I’ve taken two walks with my dog, one of which included my husband. I made some excellent observations about beautiful Herkimer, NY in the springtime. Yet, I can’t seem to make myself write about them.

It doesn’t help that I’m pressed for time. Or that I am suffering from the lightheadedness that occasionally plagues me. Or some unnamed malaise that renders everything in my life and mind unblogworthy. But I must not repine. My only task now is to get my word count up to a respectable number and drive on.

To help that, here is what I wrote on Thursday for possible use as my Friday Lame Post (as it happened, I went another way):

Full disclosure: I am writing this week’s Friday Lame Post on Thursday as I have done on several previous occasions. I find that it does not appear to have a detrimental effect on the blogosphere.

I’m not writing it on a break at work, as I usually do, nor yet composing at the computer as also often happens. I am crouched on my bathroom floor waiting for my Root Rescue to process my grey roots and make my hair beautiful once more.

Yes, I remember that my Thursday post (written and published the same day I am writing this) was about how I intend to be bald within the month. In the meantime, I’m doing my roots. Sue me.

What a long time 15 minutes takes when you are naked with chemicals on your hair.

That was when I stopped writing, because I wasn’t sure if I should talk about being naked. It might give somebody an unfortunate mental image.

And now I see I am over 300 words. Phew! I feel better! Although I’ll probably hate myself in the morning.

It Might Have Been a Cowboy

I don’t want to say I consumed insufficient caffeine this morning, but I almost left the house in my bedroom slippers. Just thought I’d throw in that unrelated remark, since I missed Non-Sequitur Thursday.

Yes, it is Lame Post Friday, my day of random observations and half-baked philosophy (I put in the explanation yet again for the benefit of new readers if any and to up my word count, because I really have very little to say today).

I do have one random observation that I wrote for use last Friday but mislaid the notebook when it was time to type it into the computer. I offer it now, although I wonder if it is as striking as it seemed when I first observed it.

As I drove along, in the car in front of me I could not see the driver’s head at all. The passenger’s head was this great big cowboy hat that reached the car roof. For a minute it looked as if this big old cowboy was being driven along by magic, or else by a tiny little cowgirl (I don’t know why I assigned the genders thusly, but so ran my thoughts) without a hat.

Then I got close enough to see the driver’s reflection in the side view mirror. A completely un-cowgirl-looking lady (why is my computer underlining “un-cowgirl-like”? Isn’t that a word?). Then I got closer yet and saw that what I had thought was a Stetson was the visor and the passenger was a perfectly ordinary sized person. What a disappointment!

I suppose at this point I could offer up some half-baked philosophy about disappointment or jumping to conclusions based upon a mere glance or why wasn’t I keeping my eye on the road instead of looking for cowboys in other vehicles. Well, I can’t think of anything philosophical to say, half-baked or otherwise, and I am extremely pressed for time.

I see that I am over 300 words. That is respectable. After all we don’t worry too much about content here at Mohawk Valley Girl (another topic ripe for some half-baked philosophy). I leave you to contemplate cowboys in other cars, and I hope you have a lovely weekend.

Could Be the Lamest Post Yet

So I started writing at least three Friday Lame Posts at work today (while on a break OF COURSE). I don’t like any of them. And I have a very short time in which to come up with something else. OH NO!

No, it isn’t Wrist to Forehead Friday. For one thing, I don’t have time to make dramatic poses.

To be honest: as soon as I typed that sentence, I sat here staring at the screen, trying to think of something else to say. I had plenty of time to put my wrist onto my forehead. I was just too lazy.

Ah, that leads us into some half-baked philosophy suitable for Lame Post Friday (my meager brain hasn’t failed me yet!): A truism states that we all have time for the things that are truly important to us. Is this a true truism? Discuss.

I think that actually we don’t any of us have the time we’d like to have for all the things we’d like to do. However, most of us have more time than we will admit; we just take it up doing other things. This is hardly an earth shattering observation (and since the earth has never, in fact, shattered, I would submit that nobody has yet made an observation that can truly be described as such) (so now I feel better about that).

Where was I?

Ah yes, babbling on in hopes my word count will go high enough that I can call it a post. Hmmm… Over 200. That’s respectable.

Before I sign off, I will leave my readers with one thought. I thought all day about how it is sometimes difficult to write a post when Mohawk Valley Girl strives to adhere to the rule: If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all.

We’ll see who gets worried about that one.

Postscript: As personal acquaintances know, in real life I don’t always follow that rule. I’m more akin to Dorothy Parker when she purportedly said, “If you can’t say anything nice, sit right here next to me.”