Tag Archives: non sequitur

Not Even a Non-Sequitur

This is the worse case of Writer’s Blank I’ve had in a while.

And writing that sentence did not seem to help.

Good God, can it be that I’ve run out of things to say? Wasn’t I just writing last week that it wasn’t like a bucket that got emptied? Oh well, I think I stole that metaphor. After all, plagiarism is the sincerest form of flattery (and I bet the person I stole it from stole it from somebody else).

I seem to be moving from Non-Sequitur Thursday to I Got Nuthin’ Thursday.

In fact, I had a minor adventure I had been going to write about. It involved my husband’s car getting hung up in a snowbank at the end of our driveway. When I got to work and shared the story with a co-worker, I finished with, “Now I’ll go write a blog post about it.” Another co-worker said, “Now you have something to write in your blog,” before I had a chance to say that (yes, I told the story twice; I really don’t have that much excitement in my life).

Could this be an example of what they say concerning fiction writing? Don’t tell your plots to people, because you won’t need to write them any more. Did I talk myself out of a blog post?

I’m thinking I did not. It really was not all that good of a story. I just said the blog line to be cute.

And I see I have now written over 200 words about, once again, not writing a post. In my defense, I have a headache and I have been striving not to mention it, because people who go on about their aches and pains are tiresome. I won’t promise anything better for tomorrow, because it will be Lame Post Friday. However, there is a chance we’ll have some Saturday Running Commentary. I hope you’ll stay tuned.

Christmas Card Snow

For this week’s Non-Sequitur Thursday, I offer a post about a walk Tabby and I took yesterday, in which I mention last month’s holiday. I say that is non-sequitur enough.

I was a little nervous at the start of the expedition. It had warmed, rained, then cooled. I figured there was a good chance the sidewalks were icy. By the time we went the sun had set. I don’t like walking in the road at the best of times. In poor light, it seemed especially ineligible.

Still, dogs like to go for walks. I like my dog. We gave it a try.

It was snowing what I think of as Christmas card snow. Lots of gentle white flakes floated down. I kept looking up into the streetlights to watch it fall. That made me think of when I was a kid. I’d keep peeking out the front window to check out the rate of snowfall under a handily placed streetlight. I would get my hopes up for school closure, but it hardly ever happened in those days.

Most of the puddles on the sidewalk had not frozen yet, but I managed to avoid walking in too much wet. There were a couple of dicey spots. You know, mud can be slippery,too. And things were starting to freeze up again. However, I managed to stay upright, and we continued.

I was happy to see a few houses still had their Christmas lights on. It looked appropriate with the Christmas card snow falling. I especially liked a house with three small trees covered with different colored non-blinking lights. We can see those trees from our upstairs window. I enjoyed getting a closer view.

We only went around the block. Tabby didn’t seem to mind the short walk, and we were both happy to get home to Steven. Maybe he will walk with us one evening soon.

I’m Still on Vacation

To make this Non-Sequitur Thursday, I’m not even going to mention in the body of the post that I’m on vacation.

Oops.

Be that as it may, today is Boxing Day. Not being ready to deal with my post-Christmas letdown, I decided to celebrate the holiday. I was not exactly sure the best way to set about this, so I got all 21st century and asked on Facebook. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I guess I could have googled or tweeted or something. Well, I’m not all that 21st century and I happened to be on Facebook at the time.

I got three suggestions (before I wrote this; there may be more now). One friend pointed out that it is also The Feast of Stephen, so I should eat something yummy. Excellent advice! I eat yummy things at every opportunity.

Another friend suggested a box of red wine. Brilliant! We all know I occasionally indulge in wine, box or bottle. In fact, I have a box of white wine on my kitchen table right now. I’m sure that would count.

The other suggestion (appropriately enough from a gentleman named Stephen) was boxing gloves. One of my stock greetings is, “Do you want to fight about it?” Based on that, I would say I celebrate Boxing Day every day. Come to think of it, one could argue that based on eating yummy things and getting a box of wine, I am a real Boxing Day maven.

I don’t imagine Boxing Day will ever obtain the prominence of Christmas in our culture. However, based on my limited knowledge and experience, I recommend it to all. Happy Boxing Day, and I hope to see you on Lame Post Friday.

Kind of a Time Warp

I had intended to have all posts about Halloween movies till Halloween night. I have plenty of material to work with, thanks to TCM and the miracle of DVR. Well, I was working on it, and let me tell you, my post on The Tingler is getting scary and not in a good way.

On the brighter side, I noticed yesterday on my computer that WordPress seems to be twelve hours ahead of me. Thus yesterday, when I wrote about Cat People, was Halloween. Today I can go on to November, or as the retail world seems to think, Christmas. I was thinking I could post this silliness tomorrow on Lame Post Friday, when I realized, according to WordPress, THAT’S TODAY!

However, as I wrote the preceding earlier, before beginning my shift at work, it was (and still is as I type this) Thursday. Non-Sequitur Thursday, in fact (if you saw me trying to rearrange the paragraphs of my Tingler post using asterisks, you would agree that it is). I was and still am having an indecisive day. I had to flip a coin to decide whether to drink coffee or water as I was writing before work (drinking both was ineligible for reasons I will not go into here).

I wrote more while at work, but it was fairly tiresome. There was one parenthetical comment I rather liked, but I can’t figure out how to fit it in now. At any rate, I am over 200 words. I deem that respectable. I will continue to work on my post about The Tingler and eventually publish it, regardless of the day WordPress or the calendar say it is.

Curse You, Christopher Lee!

I wrote that headline in the midst of writing this post, and I like it so much I’m going to use it, even though it is not really indicative of the post as a whole. Let’s just say we’re having a non-sequitur moment.

Well, here I am on Lame Post Friday, perched on a stool in my kitchen, writing in a notebook (the spiral-bound paper kind, not a computer) while onions cook and garlic breathes.

While at work today (on breaks, as you know), I worked on my novel and on a blog post which is becoming increasingly unwieldy. It is about a Christopher Lee horror movie. I do love writing about movies, but I always seem to have so much to say. I’ve been working on this one all week. I keep turning a page to work on something else, then going back to the post and leap-frogging to the next clean page. I’m getting a little confused.

And a little embarrassed. Earlier this week, I wrote about how I could not write a particular post, then went back the next day and wrote that post. Now it seems I am doing the same thing with Christopher Lee.

Oh well, these are the choices I make. I like to post every day and only seem able to accomplish this end with an increasing number of very foolish posts. As always, I strive for improvement. This week I believe I had… (counting in my head; too impatient to actually go back and check) five out of six foolish posts so far. What a wretched record! I have no place to go but up.

Maybe Next Time with Peas

People share all kinds of good advice on Facebook lately. Decorating ideas, recipes, security concerns… and some health suggestions.

My cousin posted a rather silly looking picture of a girl sitting crouched over on the edge of her bathroom sink. To cure a headache, the caption said, sit with your hands and feet in warm/hot water and put a bag of frozen peas on the back of your neck. It went on to explain how this worked, but I don’t read all these things any more than I pay attention to all the plot points on cheesy horror movies.

My first thought, which I immediately posted as a comment, was that I could never do this as there are never frozen peas in my house. I hate cooked peas, always have. I like to eat raw peas straight out of the pod, I add for the sake of pea lovers who might be inclined to cut my acquaintance. My sister suggested I purchase one bag of frozen peas for just such a purpose. I thought this not a bad suggestion, as I would be disinclined to cook and eat any vegetable that had spent an appreciable amount of time on the back of my head.

Of course I did no such thing.

However, suffering from yet another headache this afternoon, I thought I would try the technique, as best as I could. I did not sit on the edge of my bathroom sink. For one thing, I’m far too lazy to clear it off for such a purpose. For another, I really do not need to know whether my fat ass will or will not crack marble (I’m hoping not, but why put it to the test?) (oh, I know, back on the South Beach Diet for me). I sat on the edge of my tub. A frozen gel pack substituted for the peas. Nobody took a picture for Facebook and other embarrassing purposes, so if anybody had their hopes up, sorry.

And I am sorry to report: it did not work for me. Maybe I had the wrong kind of headache.

On the brighter side, I thought it would make an acceptable blog post for a Non-Sequitur Thursday. Hmmm… I guess nothing particularly non-sequiturish about it, but it will have to do. I hope to see you (figuratively speaking, of course) on Lame Post Friday.

Welcome Back, Wuss-Out Wednesday

I just remembered something: Wuss-Out Wednesday. Not a feature I use very often. Need to have one today.

Not a good writing day. See, I’m even writing in sentence fragments right now, which is not a vice in which I usually indulge (although I did keep from ending that sentence on a preposition) (which bothers some people).

I wrote a little bitty bit on my novel. Then my breaks at work were taken up with other important stuff, like talking to my husband on the telephone and working on the crossword puzzle with my co-worker. It is a bad idea to neglect the whole rest of your life just because you want to be a writer.

Now there’s a topic suitable for the half-baked philosophy portion of Lame Post Friday: work/life balance. How much life does a middle-aged woman such as myself really need? Mae West famously said it’s not the men in your life but the life in your men, but I don’t think that really applies here. Just thought I’d throw it in, although perhaps I should have saved it for Non-Sequitur Thursday.

However, it is neither Friday nor Thursday. And I may be working this weekend, so the days of the week may be rendered meaningless in any case. Be that as it may, I must think of something reasonably entertaining to say for today (I just noticed I used “may” three times in two sentences, but that may be OK).

The Powerball Lottery has reached some ungodly amount. I put in for a workplace pool. You know how often groups at work win the lottery. I don’t expect to win, but just in case, I didn’t want to be the one yahoo showing up for work on Monday because I was too cheap to pitch in the two bucks.

“No, that’ll be Darren and Mark,” said Jenny (not their real names).

“I’ll send them flowers if we win,” I said. Then I remembered that my husband had also purchased a Powerball ticket. I asked Jenny if she and the others would sue me if he won.

“No, but you’ll have to share it with us,” she said.

“I’ll buy you pizza,” I promised. I hope we win more than two dollars. It would be awkward to buy pizza for a whole section on two dollars.

Where’s Bill Murray When You Need Him?

OK, so I started to write a post this morning about how hot it is. I knew I had set a precedent for such a subject about a year ago with a post titled “I’m Me-elting” (I know how to make a ping-back to that, but I’m not sure it’s really worth a click) (although I did kind of like the last paragraph).

From that last parenthetical comment you see that I looked up the post. I had, in fact, just about decided not to use what I had written this morning but instead to make it a kind of a cooking post, telling about what I threw together for supper just now. Then I thought, oh what the hell, I’ll look at “I’m Me-elting” first, just to see what I said.

Well, I hadn’t said much about the heat but immediately went into a kind of a cooking post.

What is this, Groundhog Day?

So I’m going back to Plan A and write about the heat, making this another Wuss-Out Wednesday.

This year’s heat wave started just as I was dealing with my flooding woes (I’ll say it again: not as bad as some people’s, but bad enough to upset me!). I said to a friend at work, “I remember last year when the worst thing I had to deal with was how hot it was. Boy, those were the days!”

I thought about that for a minute then said, “Oh dear, do you suppose something worse is going to happen next year, so I’ll say, ‘Last year all I had to deal with was heat and a flooded basement. Boy, those were the days!'”

I live in fear.

Just kidding. I admit to sometimes trying to peer around that figurative bend in the road, to see what stupid thing is going to happen next. But that gets into half-baked philosophy, more suitable for Lame Post Friday. And I just thought of a silly headline that really makes today kind of like Non-Sequitur Thursday.

Incidentally, I thawed some shrimp, made cocktail sauce and cooked broccoli in the microwave. And served some black olives which happened to be in the refrigerator, by way of garnish. I include this information in case anybody is saying, “Gee, I wish she would have done the cooking post.”

I bet nobody was.

Post-Flood Perambulation

I don’t know if I’ve mentioned that we are in the habit of referring to walks as perambulations, because most dogs know “the w word.” As I was writing this post in my head while I fixed dinner, I thought, “I’ll call it Wednesday Walk. Alliterative.”

And then I remembered today was Thursday. That’s what I get for cooking with wine. Or does that make this Non-Sequitur Thursday? No matter, Steven and I just took a walk with our schnoodle Tabby, and I’m going to write a post about it.

It was Steven’s idea to take a walk. Of course I always want to walk with our nice dog, but lately it’s been so stinking hot and humid. And it has rained just about every damn day (perhaps you’ve read some of my posts about the area flooding). Today was beautiful.

I had written most of a letter to my sister during work today. I suggested Steven add his two cents and we walk it to the post office. After a minor crisis looking for the stamps and some debate about appropriate footwear (are there still copious patches of mud from the flood?), we were off.

Sunny with a nice breeze. No mud to speak of, although we did encounter a few patches of dry dirt where bare sidewalk ought to be. Really, things are getting cleaned up nicely. For the past two weeks many houses have had sad piles of garbage next to the curb, the ruined contents of basements. Most of that has been hauled away.

We admired some flowers in flower boxes and on porches. Some front yard gardens were still blooming and beautiful. Some yards had not fared so well.

The breeze died down and the sun began to feel a little stronger. I encouraged Tabby to not stop and sniff while we were in the direct sunlight. I was more lenient in the shade. Steven pointed out that Tabby had not been for a walk in a few days; she was making the most of it.

We got the letter mailed then walked all the way up Main Street and down German to home. Herkimer is definitely looking better. Here’s hoping for better days to come!

Tired on Tuesday

I was afraid this would happen, and I don’t have a label to hide behind.

Wrist to Forehead Sunday, Middle-aged Musings Monday, Wuss-Out Wednesday, Non-Sequitur Thursday, Lame Post Friday. I was about to add Running Commentary Saturday, but since that one involves actually going for a run and writing about it, I don’t think it’s in the same category as my taking-it-easy days. In my defense, I don’t use all those categories every week. In my — accusation? guilt? where’s that thesaurus when you need it! — I’ve been using them a lot lately. In my defense again, I’m still recovering from a flood.

This could go back and forth for a while, but I think my point is clear. I do not have a blog post for today and I do not have an excuse not to have one.

For any astute reader who just said, “What about that murderer dumping bodies in the Seine you keep saying you’re going to write about?” I answer, “Good question.”

That post is partially written, but I want to write more and edit what I wrote so far and, you know, make it sound really good.

“So do that now,” the reader continues, beginning to sound less like an astute reader and more like that inner critic I keep mistaking for a legitimate blog reader.

Listen kids, Aunt Cindy is tired (oh yeah, like any nieces and nephews read my blog!). The temperature and humidity are enough to melt any wicked old witch (yes, admitting to belonging in that category), I worked all day, and then I came home and went to the laundromat and did LOTS of laundry.

Yes, my husband helped me with the laundry. What are you getting at?

In fact, as I waited for the washers and then the driers, I worked on another blog post about a movie, this one in the psycho-biddy genre. Just to give a preview of coming attractions.

Even as I was writing, I said to Steven, “Oh, I am just going to go home and write something off the cuff. It’s all I can handle today.”

So here it is. I’m afraid not as clever as I had hoped, but it will have to do.