Tag Archives: lame post

No Use Crying Over Lame Posts

Well here we are once again on Lame Post Friday and I am feeling even more lame than usual (insert peanut gallery type remark of your choice here).

I do have just one thing written earlier this week, a random observation about an old cliche:

It’s no use crying over spilled milk.

I’m not crying because I think it’s going to HELP! I am having an honest emotional reaction to an upsetting event. Can you please cut me a small break? I will look for the paper towels in a minute.

The problem is: before making today’s post I checked out Facebook, as is my usual habit. What should I find but a link to another blog I follow about, you guessed it, crying over spilled milk. They do say great minds run around in the same circles (wait a minute, that is what I say; “they” put it a little differently).

Only, that post was not lame. It was a heartfelt essay about a new mother coping with real problems.

So now here I am writing a post about how inadequate I feel writing my Friday Lame Post.

Only, let’s be honest: I don’t feel any more inadequate today than any other day. For Heavens’ sake, I KNOW there are better writers than me and writers writing about more important things than I write about. It’s no reason to stop writing.

I typed that last sentence and then stopped. Just to put a little irony in your diet (one of my favorite jokes). I will close with the link to my friend’s post, so you can compare/contrast and discuss amongst yourselves. Happy Friday, everyone.

http://megactsout.blogspot.com/2013/02/crying-over-spilt-milk.html

At Least I Wrote Something

So there I was, having Wrist to Forehead Saturday. A full blown case, too. Oh, I was being pathetic. It was embarrassing. The thing was I could. Not. Write. A. Thing.

I had a lovely Mohawk Valley adventure to write about. Failing that, I had taken not one but two walks with my schnoodle, Tabby. Always acceptable for a Saturday post. I understand the Write It Anyways philosophy. I got out my notebook. I found a pen. I wrote a sentence and scribbled it out. I could not think of an alternative.

“This NEVER happens to me!” I wailed. I had wailed it about thirty-eight times (in my head, of course; I didn’t want to scare the dog), before a little voice in my head said, “Don’t be silly; it happens to you all the time. That’s why you have so damn many lame posts.”

Well, I believe my theme yesterday was “Things Happen.” Or, as the case may be, Things Don’t Happen. In this case, writing the post I had intended to write is not going to happen.

In the alternative, let us briefly consider the Write It Anyways philosophy. I know, half-baked philosophy is for Lame Post Friday. However, since some do not consider this philosophy half-baked, I will make bold to compose a paragraph or two. For one thing, I do not want today to be the first day in over a year and a half that I don’t make a blog post.

Most professional writers acknowledge that you can’t wait for inspiration to strike. If you wait till you are “in the mood” to write, you will write very little. Indeed, I have found in my own experience that most of the time, if I just pick up the pen (or pencil, or put my fingers on the keyboard, if we must be literal as well as literary), words will appear.

Oh, it’s fun when they do. One of my favorite things is, it gets so they appear more easily and regularly. It’s true! Since I’ve been writing the blog, I do spend less time staring at a blank piece of paper. I spend less time staring into space thinking about writing. It’s kind of like running: the more you do it, the more you are able to do it (no, I haven’t started running again, let’s not open THAT can of worms!).

Um, slight disclaimer here: unlike running, it is not as easy to be good at writing. If I keep putting my feet down on the ground one after the other, I will get someplace and I will get there increasingly quicker or go increasingly further. If I put more words on the paper, I will be able to put increasingly more words on the paper, but that does not mean they will be any more interesting for others to read.

Case in point: this post.

On the other hand, if I start to worry about my every every word being deathless prose, I will surely write fewer words. The write-it-and-scribble-it-out disease happens because there is that voice in my head saying, “That’s not good enough” (I’m not sure if it’s the same voice that said, “It happens to you all the time,” but it’s a pretty good bet). Today I said to myself, “It doesn’t have to be brilliant, it just has to be written.”

And now I have written over 500 words. It might be foolish, but it is a blog post. I’ll work on making it brilliant tomorrow. And I will write about our trip to the Capitol Theatre in Rome, NY for a screening of Rear Window (preview of coming attractions). Um, I’m not promising that will be brilliant, but I’ll work on it.

Post Ironic

I’ve done this before. I write my Friday Lame Post on Thursday and type it into the computer. Then on Friday I have only to hit “Publish” and be off on whatever Mohawk Valley adventure I have planned. It is most convenient. When it works.

For those of you just tuning in (and I always hope for new readers), Lame Post Friday is the day I relax with random observations and half-baked philosophy. Sometimes I sit at the computer and write it off the cuff, spontaneously.

I seem to remember last week talking about how you can’t schedule spontaneity (good word. Spontaneity). I would submit that it is difficult to schedule anything. Because things happen.

For example, Friday night Steven and I plan to drive into Rome to see an old movie at the Capitol Theatre (preview of coming attractions). Suppose it snows. Suppose I get a raging sinus headache. Suppose we just don’t damn well feel like it.

Another example: I work Monday through Friday. That’s an almost set in stone schedule. I’ve even proven I can work with a raging sinus headache. Still, you never know. What if my vehicle breaks down on Route 5? What if the factory burns down? It would take quite the huge fire, for one thing., but this is just an example.

The irony of this post is not lost on me. I’m writing it early because I PLAN to do something, and I’m writing about how you can’t plan anything. Ooh! Ooh! I did not plan it this way, but what a load of half-baked philosophy. Yes! And just like that, Lame Post Friday is back. Have a nice weekend. I plan to.

On with the Salsa

I don’t think it’s Non Sequitur Thursday if on Wednesday I say I’m going to tell you my salsa method and on Thursday I actually do it. Then again, considering my salsa method (especially this time), it might be eligible for Lame Post Friday. And there we have it: If I do a post better for a Friday on a Thursday, that makes it a non sequitur post. Ipso facto (I have no idea what ipso facto means; I just thought I’d throw in a little Latin to class the post up).

I could go into some half-baked philosophy here (or is it middle-aged musing?) about how I’ve been posting lame Thursdays and Fridays for some time now (as well as other days, but let’s leave that alone for now). But that sounds a little dull to me. On with the salsa.

For those of you just tuning in, yesterday I roasted vegetables with cilantro. There was plenty of cilantro left to make salsa. I tentatively planned to bring the salsa, with chips of course, to the monthly dinner meeting of Ilion Little Theatre Club.

My first step in making salsa consisted of calling home while I was a work and leaving a message for Steven to pick up a red onion after his work. He had planned to pick up a few things anyways, so I didn’t feel I was placing an undue burden upon him. Also, I said IF it wasn’t too much trouble (a thing people often say when they are hoping the person will do the favor anyways, even if it is too much trouble).

I take a lot of time to actually get to the salsa, don’t I? When you hear the actual recipe (insert usual disclaimer), you’ll see why.

One can make salsa with a food processor or blender, or not. I chose not. I chopped up the Roma tomatoes fairly small (diced? must find a glossary of cooking terms). Then I chopped a bunch of cilantro leaves as small as possible. This part was trickier, but I did my best. Next I cut up some of the red onion (red onions are BIG), also into as teeny tiny pieces as I could manage. I sprinkled ground cumin and Perfect Pinch Savory Seasoning over the whole, and mixed well.

Then I remembered salsa should have jalapenos. Luckily I had a jar in the refrigerator. I chopped up a few. Not too many, or Steven’s bald spot would sweat.

The flavors have been blending ever since. I taste tested it at the time, but taste testing as soon as it’s mixed doesn’t really tell you much. When I get home tonight I will taste test the salsa again. I trust it will be tasty enough to share with my friends at Ilion Little Theatre Club. If not, I’ll still have over an hour to think of something else.

NOTE: The salsa tasted fine. I also made some garlic dip (subject for another post?). On to the meeting! Hope to see you on Lame Post Friday.

Joan Crawford? Or a Shar Pei?

I came up with that headline earlier in the week. The post I started to write for it wasn’t working out so well, so I thought I’d save it for Non Sequitur Thursday (my new favorite day).

Once again, I got nuthin’ (yes, it must be “nuthin'” not “nothing” and of course it’s “I got” not “I have,” what are you people thinking?).

In my defense, I’m in pain. It’s the sinuses again. January thaw be damned!

I do have a question. Why do people always make up names of their friends or relatives when they write do “Dear Abby” and when they do, why do they feel it is necessary to tell us they are doing so? Suppose I had a problem with Sally at work. Well, in the first place I would be unlikely to write to “Dear Abby,” because I think she gives stupid advice since the daughter started writing it. Come to think of it, the original Abby sometimes gave dumb advice too.

And once again, Non Sequitur Thursday veers into Stream of Consciousness Thursday.

By the way, I rarely have problems with anybody at work and when I do I go to other co-workers to let off steam and/or get advice. These things usually blow over, I’ve found.

I am pushing myself through this day one painful minute at a time (seventy-nine more to go) (That’s actually not true. It’s eighty, but I thought seventy-nine would be funnier) (Perhaps I should have waited till it was actually seventy-nine; who can thrash out these moral dilemmas?).

And that’s what I wrote on the final break at work. It seems a touch surreal now, saying there are 79 or 80 minutes left at work, now that I am out of work and at home typing it into my computer. But my head still hurts, I got nuthin’ else.

Actually, there are two or three more paragraphs I wrote at work, but I see no reason to inflict any more on you nice people. How many sick days is a blogger allowed? Call this my first one for 2013. Hope to see you on Lame Post Friday.

New Year, Same Old Me

First a correction from yesterday’s post: We did not tape Santa Claus Conquers the Martians from TCM but from AMC. AMC, at that time, was a delightful destination for us, showing many features with directly interested us. Now I fear they cater to a different demographic. TCM is our go to cable source for movies, which accounts for my mentioning it by mistake.

I take so long making the correction because, as has become deplorably common these days, I don’t have much. It’s kind of a dull, no brain day for me. In my defense, it’s New Year’s Day.

I actually did not party particularly heartily last night. I didn’t even stay up till midnight. I was watching the TruTV marathon of World’s Dumbest Partiers, so I may have gotten a contact buzz. Or would that be placebo effect? The power of suggestion?

In any case, I’ve spent most of the day watching some fairly creepy things on another cable channel I discovered called Chiller, with my unwritten blog post hanging over my head in a threatening fashion. I know, a dedicated blogger would have turned off the television, picked up a notebook and Written That Post.

And here we come to the ugly truth about me.

It is the last day of my four day weekend, so it is like a Sunday, and you know what that means. Wrist to Forehead Sunday!

I bet some of my readers are hoping I make a New Year’s Resolution to write fewer lame posts. Well, I strive always to improve. I did have a nice breakfast at Crazy Otto’s Empire Diner yesterday that I may write about tomorrow.

In the meantime, I am educating myself. The current feature on Chiller is Can You Survive a Horror Movie? Already I’ve gotten some useful tips on how to survive a zombie attack. Their experts don’t offer much hope for being buried alive, however.

The hosts of the show are willingly putting themselves in horror movie situations. Perhaps in 2013 I can do that myself with some of the cheesy horror features I review. I wonder who I can get to be Bela Lugosi.

I Plan to Be Spontaneous

After yesterday’s silly post, I feel a little sheepish having Lame Post Friday. However, since I got nuthin’ else, I’ll see what I can come up with.

I did have one thought about my Friday Lame Post. As I prepared to drive to work early this morning, I wondered what I might find to write about during the course of the day, since I arose this morning with nothing. Then I remembered a comment on another Friday Lame Post, advising me that one could not be random on a schedule. I had to acknowledge the truth of that statement, then the little devil on my shoulder said, “Today I planned to be spontaneous.”

Well, that is just the kind of oxymoron I enjoy (being all different kinds of moron myself). I’m only sorry I can’t come up with more of them for this post. However, let’s get on with my planned spontaneity at least.

Have you ever noticed, when somebody says, “I hate to rain on your parade,” it is almost always a lie. They LOVE to rain on your parade! They think it’s great that they know something that you don’t and it will ruin whatever you were planning/hoping/thinking. And, you know what, it’s usually not even a parade anyways. It is often something very mundane and by calling it your parade they have disparaged you twice. Or am I being too sensitive?

I just remembered that I had been going to philosophize half-bakedly on why I wanted to repeat myself in yesterday’s post. I sure do hate to rain on anybody’s parade who was waiting for that. Just kidding! I actually felt very mean for putting that, but I kind of also felt like I had to (come to think of it, that might be something else to philosophize about, half-bakedly, of course).

To set the record straight, I was going to repeat myself yesterday because I couldn’t think of anything else to say. Hmmm… not very philosophical, was it? Perhaps Pouring My Art Out was right and one can’t philosophize on cue.

By the way, that was who commented, pouringmyartout.wordpress.com. I really don’t spend enough time reading other blogs, because, you know, some of them are really cool.

Here We Go Again

I guess you could say it’s Wrist to Forehead Sunday, but my wrist is not literally on my forehead (I hate typing one-handed anyways). I just don’t want to lift my arm that high.

My sinuses have been bad lately, but I have been muddling through. This morning I woke up with dreadful nausea and I knew what to blame. Seriously, I had not done one thing to deserve being sick. No rich food, no booze, only the usual amount of stress. I decided to break down and go get some serious decongestant and live with the consequences.

And now you, gentle reader, must live with the consequences too. I am too lightheaded to write a decent post (I know, what’s my excuse the rest of the time? Well, I can only do my best). Luckily most of the Christmas presents are wrapped (I could have done a whole post on those trials and tribulations, but some of the recipients may read this blog). And I still have tomorrow.

For today, I’m afraid it’s television, crochet and posting complaints on Facebook. I did call my Mom and tell her I was sick. I know other people who do that: however old we get, when we don’t feel good we call Mom for some sympathy. She said maybe I’m coming down with something, it’s going around.

I looked back on a couple of posts I remember doing when I was under the weather. One of them went on for quite some time chronicling my illness. I will spare you such a thing today (I guess you can always spare yourself such a thing by just stopping reading, that’s what I do). I hope you’re all enjoying Christmas Eve Eve, and I hope to post less lamely tomorrow.

Can’t Give You Anthing But Lame

What a dithery week I’m having.

I had meant to continue my Christmas Carol Commentary today. I even had a couple of paragraphs written. I thought, “Don’t do Lame Post Friday right after Non Sequitur Thursday.” And here it is Friday and it seems I can’t be anything but lame.

I have said in the past that I don’t suffer so much from Writer’s Block as from Writer’s Blank. My head feels like a big, empty wasteland. Well, today I think it’s Block. My head feels like a concrete wall. Nothing is getting through.

Possible reason for this phenomenon:

I got some “likes” for my posts earlier this week, and at least one new follower. What if they read my next post and DON’T LIKE IT AS MUCH? What a disaster!

Oh, I know it’s not really a disaster and logically, nobody will like each post equally as well as all others. But I think many writers can identify with the fear that we will not be good enough. After all, better to be silent and let the world think you’re a fool than to write a blog post and remove all doubt.

Actually, I guess that ship sailed with the first post: everybody knows I am something of a fool. I might postulate that most writers are fools: we put our words out there and think somebody, somewhere might want to read them. And you know what, maybe we’re not such fools after all. I like to read what people write. I’m thinking you do too, because, you know, here you are.

One of the best excuses for a lame post is, at least it’s short. Happy Friday, everyone.

Non Sequitur Thursday

Now I’ve done it. I’ve gone all post-ironic on you.

Regular readers may recall that I instituted Non Sequitur Thursday two weeks ago. Last week I was glad I had it, although I feel it led to a dithery post. I said then that if I used “Non Sequitur Thursday” as a title I was afraid it would make whatever I said after that a sequitur (my computer keeps telling me that’s not how you spell sequitur, but I’ve looked it up in the dictionary like eight times by now) (by the way, it appears that “non sequitur” is a word, but “sequitur” is not).

It’s kind of like that episode of Star Trek (the original Gene Rodenberry series, not any of the movies or spin offs, most of which I did not watch) (thus losing all my sci fi geek cred, if I had any) where Spock said to an android, “Everything I say to you is a lie. I’m lying,” and the poor android short circuited. Um, this does not make me anything like Spock.

I left something off one of my other dithery posts earlier this week: when I was listing my various cop out posts, I forgot Wuss Out Wednesday. I actually never instituted Wuss Out Wednesday, but last Halloween, which fell on a Wednesday, I had a really lame post in which I contemplated instituting such a thing.

Why, oh why, did I not write a post while at work today? No sinus headache plagued me. In my defense, I wrote almost two pages on my novel. I am so behind the eight ball because I have to start getting ready to go to a dinner meeting of Ilion Little Theatre (remember, I made White Trash for it). There is no point in thinking I will be up to writing a post after that. They serve wine.

In conclusion, I am a little embarrassed to post this, but not too embarrassed to hit “publish.” Happy Thursday.