Tag Archives: lame post

I Didn’t Edit Out the Lame

An interesting phenomenon has been happening with some of my blog posts lately: I edit.

Of course I’ve always edited to a point. Whether I write it first then type it in or compose (NOT compost, Ron) at the keyboard, I read it over and change a word here and there. Lately, however, I’ve been deleting, moving and completely re-writing entire paragraphs. Even adding paragraphs. It’s kind of fun.

I’m sure there are some “real” writers out there rolling their eyes. “Of COURSE you have to edit!” they are saying, with or without a sniff. “Editing is an important part of writing — maybe the MOST important part. Did you think your stuff could stand as written?”

Two schools of thought there. Others believe you should NEVER edit. You must be spontaneous and fresh, sticking to your “first thoughts.” “First thoughts” is an expression I got from Natalie Goldberg in Writing Down the Bones. For Goldberg, as for many creative souls, the Editor is that bad voice that lives in your head and says things like, “Don’t write that! That’s stupid! Why are you even writing at all?”

Regular readers (Hi, Sherry!) know I have conversations with a similar entity in my own head on a regular basis. I would submit that it isn’t only writers that hear such a voice. I think a lot of people who suffer from low self-esteem hear an unkind voice telling them they are ugly or stupid or worthless.

I don’t want to stray into psychiatry over here. Half-baked philosophy is my bailiwick. And I didn’t start out to write out about self-esteem; I meant to do a post on writing.

Well, how about some half-baked philosophy on the relationship between writing and self-esteem?

Or not.

Full disclosure: I wrote this last week (yes, while I was stressing over the silly weekend) with no real notion of when I would use it. Today, I thought it would fit right in with Lame Post Friday. And it will have to do, because I have nothing else, least of all time to come up with an alternative.

Further full disclosure: I did very little editing on this when I typed it in. The irony is not lost on me.

A Little Less Stress?

Regular readers (Hi, Rick!) know I have spent the week in a state of stress over what ought to be a stress-relieving treat, namely a wine tasting trip to the Finger Lakes with certain female members of my family. I thought I might take Lame Post Friday to give an update on my stress.

Full disclosure: I’m writing this on Thursday, hoping to alleviate a little stress on Friday. I wrote Thursday’s post on Wednesday, Wednesday’s and Tuesday’s posts on Monday. I don’t remember what I wrote on Tuesday.

This morning WKTV News (out of Utica, NY) declared that it was Stress Free Thursday. Considering that I have spend Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday kvetching about the stress I’m under, I felt this spoke directly to me.

Bill Kardas, the weatherman, said life is too short to stress about things. This, I thought later, while not half-baked in itself, could lead me to some some half-baked philosophy suitable for Lame Post Friday.

“Life’s too short” is a reason many people use for many things. I like it. I think as a reason I like it even better than “It seemed like a good idea at the time,” my most often used reason. I daresay nobody but me remembers, but regarding the first wine tasting trip I took with my sisters, I explained, “Under the heading Life’s Too Short, we decided to do this and set a date.”

The occasion was my grandfather’s funeral. There is nothing like a funeral to point out how short life is and how important family is. Oh dear, now I’m getting sentimental as well as philosophical. That’s deadly.

I was gearing up to philosophize (half-bakedly, of course) about how we cause our own stress, as in, “I’m really stressing out over this.” But now I’m feeling all cuddly and soft. Well, one can’t always plan how one is going to feel.

This is Lame Post Friday, after all (or it will be when I publish this). I’m allowed to be random. I hope you all have a stress free weekend.

Gone Fishin’ — I Mean Wine Tasting

So I had a minor tirade on Non-Sequitur Thursday, some truly half-baked philosophy for Lame Post Friday, now I have to come up with something for Saturday.

Astute readers (I’m sure that includes all you lovely people) will realize I am writing this on Thursday, in hopes of getting my blog posts typed in and set to publish ahead of time. This will enhance my ability to enjoy the upcoming Finger Lakes Wine Tasting tour I am embarking upon with some of my family.

My favorite kind of Saturday post is Running Commentary. Unfortunately, I have not run and have no time to run now. I hope to take my dog, Tabby, for a walk sometime this evening. However, I want to write this post NOW (on a break at work, so, no, I can’t drop the pen, take a quick hike and go on). I suppose I could make something up and pretend I took a walk or even a run, but this really isn’t that kind of a blog.

So, what, am I going to write a post about What I Can’t Write a Post About? Is that better or worse than a post about Why I Can’t Write a Post Today? To answer that question would require some half-baked philosophy suitable for Lame Post Friday. Well, I’ve posted lame on a Saturday before. I’ve even had Wrist to Forehead Saturday on occasion. I’m afraid what I’m coming up with right now, though, is a new feature: I Got Nuthin’ Saturday.

Well, I’ve taken blogger sick days before. A co-worker suggested I call in sick on Friday in order to leave early for my Finger Lakes adventure. Since I have been talking about going wine tasting all week, I thought that would be bad policy. Likewise, no blog reader will believe I am suddenly ill (unless it is stress related; anybody could believe that).

So call it a personal day. Or what happens when one tries to write three blog posts in one day. I won’t work on Sunday’s post till tomorrow at the earliest. In the meantime, as you read this (if anybody is still reading), I might be raising a glass with a tiny taste of wine in it to you, my lovely readers. Cheers.

Lame Non-Sequiturs

I saw on the news Tuesday morning (WKTV out of Utica, NY) that somebody had declared it No Complaints Tuesday. My rebellious nature immediately asserted itself.

I will naturally complain about anybody telling me not to complain. After all, we can help improve things by complaining about what’s wrong. And if we can’t change things we can relieve our feelings by expressing ourselves. I have a lot of intelligent, thoughtful, CERTAINLY NOT whiny complaints, and I am sure you do, too, gentle reader.

That is the cue for somebody to sniff, “I never complain. It doesn’t do you any good to complain. I look on the positive side always.” Well, if that is truly what you say, I bet a lot of your friends complain about you as soon as you leave the room.

I wrote the preceding Tuesday morning but decided to save it for Non-Sequitur Thursday. I actually continued my Tuesday in a non-complaining fashion, I think largely because I had gotten it out of my system with that silly diatribe.

So today is Non-Sequitur Thursday, but it is also my Friday — that is, Lame Post Friday — since I have tomorrow off. Score! I can be random, half-baked and none of it has to make any sense (I KNOW some of you are saying, “So what else is new?” and what an obvious thing to say. Find some new jokes!).

I intend to spend a good part of the weekend watching cheesy movies which I will write about for your entertainment. I have some waiting on my DVR especially for the purpose. I might also hit some local retail establishments in search of Easter goodies.

Hey, why is it there a moon on my watch (how’s that for a non-sequitur) (and a random observation)? It can’t mean p.m., because I have my watch set to military time (if you want to annoy some people, tell them it’s 16:48 when they ask you what time it is). It’s not that I’m such a gung ho, prior service kind of veteran (but feel free to call me Sgt Q). It’s that this way when I set my alarm for 3:30 or 5 I know it will ring in the morning. Just another little bit of security when I go to sleep at night that I’ll get up on time in the morning. Maybe the moon has always been there. Or maybe my watch is mooning me. Wise-ass Timex!

Well, that is over 400 words. I think that is plenty enough silliness for one day (is that half-baked philosophy?) (I know “plenty enough” is a tautology, but I like the sound of it). Time to get on with my weekend. Happy Thursday, everyone!

Sorry, Readers

It’s another Wrist to Forehead Sunday. I don’t have a post written. I don’t have any ideas of what to write a post about. I don’t even have any humorous remarks about Why I Can’t Write a Post Today.

I almost had Wrist to Forehead Saturday. I took out an old spiral notebook and wrote a sentence. And crossed it out. I wrote another couple of sentences and crossed them out. I frowned. Started another sentence. Forced myself to write… each… word… Then when I was folding laundry I came up with the St. Baldrick’s Day idea. Saved!

I walked with my schnoodle Tabby to the post office to mail postcards yesterday morning, thinking that would be worth a post. My husband Steven joined us for another walk this afternoon. The highlight of today’s walk was the memorial for Ape, the police dog who gave his life protecting his human partner from the killer. At least, I don’t know if highlight is the right word. But I don’t feel I can write a blog post about that, or indeed, say anything else about the tragedy today.

Yesterday I had a couple of opportunities for Mohawk Valley adventures, in addition to our post office jaunt, but alas, nothing blogworthy ensued. I didn’t even watch a cheesy horror movie, although a couple good-sounding choices await on my DVR.

So boo hoo for me. And boo hoo for you the reader, as I blather on about these things. Oh well, I guess the blogosphere can survive one more stupid post from yours truly. Ah, here’s something apropos. In the old notebook I was writing in yesterday, I found a crumpled piece of paper with the following quote:

Courage doesn’t always roar. Sometime courage is a quiet voice at the end of the day saying, “I will try again tomorrow.”

I guess what I do doesn’t take a plethora of courage, but, yes, I will try again tomorrow. Hope to see you then.

One Cheese, Two Cheese, RATS!

When I closed yesterday I thought I might take today to come up with a rating system for my cheesy movie reviews. A Facebook friend suggested servings of cheese. I had thought maybe kinds of cheese — this one’s cheddar, that one’s Velveeta. That strikes me as rather qualitative and subjective. Then again, who cares about that? They’re my reviews, and any review is perforce subjective. Then again, not everybody likes the same kind of cheese.

For example, when I think “cheddar” I think dry, aged, classy, substantial, delicious. Others might think, can’t have it without crackers, gets lumpy when it melts, I’d rather have American. For another example, I find Cheez Whiz a delicious treat, whereas cheese snobs find it unbearably tacky and I daresay many refuse to try it. Hmmm. That one’s kind of a metaphor for the sort of movies I like.

But now I’m thinking, if I have to explain what I mean when I rate a movie “cheddar,” I may as well leave off the cheddar and just explain. Which is pretty much what I do now. I say, “Worth a watch,” or, “Good if you want a stupid movie to make fun of.” I don’t know that I’ve ever used it in the blog, but my ultimate pan of a movie is “It needs robot heads.”

This, of course, is a reference to Mystery Science Theatre 3000, in which a guy and two robots make fun of cheesy movies. Delicious show. I think if a movie needs robot heads, it’s not just cheesy, it’s dull. I did find one movie so dull even robot heads couldn’t get me through it. The next time I find myself without a feature on a Saturday afternoon, I may attempt it again and write about it.

Where does that leave us? One cheese, two cheeses, Rats! I never should have watched this movie! But am I rating how cheesy a movie is, how good it is, or how enjoyable? I think I’m better off sticking to my descriptions.

So now I’ve wasted a whole blog post deciding to just keep doing what I’m doing. Maybe I should have saved this one for Lame Post Friday.

Friday Comments About Monday

Well, here it is Lame Post Friday and once again, I got nothing. And not plenty o’ nuthin’, like in that song in Porgy and Bess. But I do have a comment about another song that I was thinking about earlier in the week.

I don’t know who sings it or what the real name of the song is, but it starts, “Monday, Monday,” and goes on to some words I can’t understand very well so don’t remember. The gist of it is Monday is no good to the guy singing because, “Monday morning couldn’t guarantee/ That Monday evening you would still/ Be here with me.” My apologies if I misquote. I haven’t actually heard the song in a while, but it was playing in my head all day one day.

And it was really annoying me! Come on, guy, better to have loved and lost! Who spends a relationship saying, “Oh, I hope we don’t break up before nightfall!” I suppose some do, but then the singer goes on to say, “Every other day (every other day, every other day) of the week is fine, yeah!” What? Tuesday et al. can guarantee that the girl will still be there in the evening? What kind of chick is this that only breaks up on a Monday?

I suppose somebody will argue that Monday is the most stressful day of the week, at least for Monday through Friday workers. If you’re going to have a messy break up, it might as well be on a Monday (oh, I know, nowhere in the song does he say it will be messy; I’m just extrapolating). Maybe there is something special on Monday, or even this particular Monday, that I don’t know because I never listened to all the words in the song (which is unusual for me). Just get through Monday! Then we’ll be together forever! After all, who am I to judge other people’s relationships?

I think it is more likely that someone will argue, “Lighten up, Cindy, it’s JUST a SONG!”

And Friday is just a day. And now that I’ve made my Lame Post, I’m going to go enjoy what’s left of it.

Lame Computers, Anyways!

Yesterday I began my post with a lament about what a lousy blogging week it has been. Little did I know, it was about to get worse.

Um, I mean, I began the post I was handwriting in my notebook while on a break at work. I don’t remember how I began the post that got published and, quite frankly, I do not want to go back and look. The computer told me I have 55 minutes of time and I may need all of it to move forward.

So yesterday, blog post that never saw the ether of the internet (as opposed to the light of day) in my spiral notebook (to differentiate it from a computer called a notebook, which I do not have), I called my husband Steven during the nine o’clock break, and he informed me that the computer was down. It is not a new computer. It was graciously given us by my sister whose daughter had no use for it. It has served us well (thanks, Vicki!) (oh, and thanks, Diane, the sister who gave us our previous computer; not good to go online with, but excellent for word processing purposes).

Lately our monitor has been going black for no apparent reason. This is NOT due to a mis-set sleep mode. It goes black when you are in the middle of doing something. If you turn the monitor off then on, it comes back on for periods lasting from one second to the rest of the session. Usually one second. If you re-start or turn off the computer then turn it back on later (an excercise in patience using bursts of one-second screen time) (but I don’t repine over that; I need to build up my capacity for patience), sometimes it is fine.

Until Thursday.

When I got home Thursday (Steven was at work by that time) (and don’t you just hate the way that works out sometimes!), I expermimentally turned on the comptuer. One second screen time, utilizing the off/on method. It was showing a message, however, which was difficult to read in one-second spurts. Something about a corrupt file in disc drive C, I think.

Well, I have a disc in that computer that I have never taken out. I save everything on it that I want saved. I thought, I’ll take that disc out and see what happens. Do you think that disc drive would open. No!!!

At one point, I realized it was almost 4:30, and I remembered the library closes at five on Thursdays. I sprang into action. I showered, threw on clothes (not neglecting earrings) and got to the library by twenty to five. I can make a blog post in twenty minutes! I’ve done it before!

There was a computer free. Yes! Unfortunately, library computers (quite sensibly, I admit) close down before the library. When I logged on, the computer told me I had seven minutes. It could still work!

I wrote a foolish sentence or two. Wanted to write more, as is often the case with me once I get going. Refrained. I even managed to log onto my email. Didn’t look at everything, but saw what was there (nothing earth-shattering, as they say) (that’s one of those hyperbolic expressions many poepl love to use; there’s a good topic for a future Lame Post Friday). I even had a few minutes of the seven left, because when I hit “exit,” the computer asked me was I sure I wanted to end my session early.

I went home, feeling a little inclined to burst into tears, although I know that as disasters go, this one was minor. I turned the computer back on and finally got the disc drive to open. There was nothing there. WHAT? What have I been saving to all this time?

I was by now out of ideas.

And now I have written a lengthy piece telling the whole sordid sotry, and I’m betting that when I get to the library after work, I will not have time to type it all in. Only, as you see, I did. HA! But what about tomorrow? Could be a problem.

Well, what does my blog do, really, but entertain a few people, most notably myself. The world will keep turning if I miss a few days. Literature and the blogosphere will survive. I suppose I will, too.

This is a Silly Post, Isn’t It?

Nobody really thought I was going to forgo Lame Post Friday, as I declared at the end of yesterday’s post, did they?

Oh, there’s some half-baked philosophy right there. How can I resist? I recently read somewhere that women and minorities tend to add qualifiers to their statements. This is blank, ISN’T IT? I think this, DON’T YOU? Nobody thought, DID THEY? Well, I am a woman (am I not?) (really hate to say “aren’t I?” or even “ain’t I?”) (although of the two, I prefer the latter, because Grace Kelly said it in Rear Window) (but I digress).

Why do you suppose this is? I think (philosophically, of course) that it is different reasons for different women. Some women are unsure of themselves. Some want everybody to get along and feel that means agreeing on most things. Some are just eager to be loved. And for many, I’m sure it is just a bad habit (don’t you think so?). And I KNOW, before anybody tells me, that there are women who do not follow this speech pattern. To those women, I say, you go, girls (they might be offended that I call them “girls” instead of “women,” but that is a chance I’ll take).

Come to think of it, I said I would ATTEMPT to forgo Lame Post Friday, but I made no promises. That means I’m in the clear (right?). (I’m really just adding these qualifiers to be silly now; you guys got that, didn’t you?)(OK, that last “didn’t you?” I meant).

Actually, I personally have a tendency to make statements, and I am very surprised when people disagree with me. As many women do, completely without qualifiers. “Oh, I don’t think so,” they say, as if I am some odd specimen for thinking such a thing.

Which brings up another point: I have been philosophizing about something I read which I have not observed personally, randomly or otherwise (I feel I must insert here for the benefit of new readers, if any, that Lame Post Friday ideally consists of random observations and half-baked philosophies). And I’ve gone on for over 300 words. That is plenty long enough for a Lame Friday Post. Happy Friday, everyone.

Wish I Had Written That Spare Post

I think I was really onto something with the idea of “In Case of Emergency Hit Publish” (or else I was on something, I think the saying goes). However, the sad truth is, I have not written any other spare posts. Could be a problem.

This morning instead of writing my post, I started writing another play. I haven’t quite finished the last play I was working on, but it has gotten to the point where I need to type in the first draft, print it out and ponder my options.

There I was, scribbling notes on a Christmas play. I wasn’t really nuts about it so far, but I persevered. And I had my reward, because in the midst of my note making, I came up with something I liked. Ha ha ha (satisfied chuckle). I hope nobody feels frustrated that I can’t share it with you, but I think I’ve mentioned how it is a mistake to talk about a piece of writing before it is finished. In fact, I’ve said too much already.

Still, I thought, Non-Sequitur Thursday. How hard can it be? Moreover, it can’t be too long of a post, because I have a dinner meeting of Ilion Little Theatre tonight.

Here’s a grammatical note, just to veer into Stream of Consciousness Thursday instead: I think the proper construction is “too long a post,” but I seem to like better the sound of “too long of a post” when I say it in my head. I always say things in my head when I write them. Sometimes after I write them I call Steven upstairs and say them out loud.

To continue with my Thursday story, as the day wore on, I developed a rather severe headache. I think it has something to do with the weather, but I’m not a doctor, so what do I really know? I was in pain. I did not write further on subsequent breaks.

Now I am at home and the headache has subsided. The result of the Equate Migraine Relief? The blue Gator Ade? Being home with my husband and dog? The coffee Steven made for me? No matter. I’m good to type, if only I had written something to type in.

And just like that, I have over 300 words. Oh, I love this blogging hobby. Tomorrow I will attempt to forgo Lame Post Friday and come up with something real to write about, but I can make no promises. As always, I hope you’ll stay tuned.