Tag Archives: writing

More Writing About Not Writing

Well, it is not yet Tired Tuesday it is no longer Wrist to Forehead Sunday, yet I feel I qualify for both of those days. The annoying thing is that I did so write while at work today. I wrote at least a page before my shift started then a few paragraphs more at lunch time. I felt it was not contemptible. And yet. And yet.

What I really feel moved to write right now is an explanation of why I am not publishing what I wrote earlier yet. We’ll call it a Middle-aged Musings Monday and that will make everything OK (I do like giving things names) (I’ll write a blog post abut that one day).

After writing about Steven’s first Christmas gift to me (yesterday’s post), I thought it might be fun to do a week of Christmas memories. By age 51, I have quite a few. I have even been thinking about one particular Christmas lately. The reason I have been thinking about it is that I was broke then and I am broke now. I quite naturally began my post with that thought.

After a sentence or three I thought, “Somebody is going to tell me to stop whining.” You can’t tell tone of voice from typing. I felt I was being matter-of-fact about things, but no doubt some readers would hear whining. I wrote a few more sentences trying to dispel any notion that I am not facing my circumstances with cheerfulness, fortitude and a sense of humor (I’m not, really, I daresay I do whine, but wouldn’t it be nice if I did have cheeriness, etc.?).

Then I started to ask myself, am I even that broke? After all, I still have cable television and the occasional bottle of wine. I haven’t started stealing the dog’s food nor even applied for SNAP benefits. These reflections led to some half-baked philosophy about people crying poverty when the rest of us see none. This was not a Christmas memory! What the hell, Mohawk Valley Girl? So I skipped a line and jumped into the story I had intended to write, trusting to be able to clean it up later.

By the end of the day, I felt dissatisfied with what I had written. I felt certain there was a better blog post about that Christmas. And perhaps a Lame Post Friday post about comparative poverty or cheerfulness and fortitude. After work as I walked my dog, Tabby, I pondered my options, bearing in mind that I have rehearsal tonight and I was feeling more and more tired. I thought about writing about the walk I was taking. Then I thought about writing about why I could not publish the post originally intended.

And reading back over what I have written (I know, Truman Capote, it isn’t writing, it’s typing), I kind of like it. I will strive to be a little less tired on Tuesday.

Not a Famous Post

As I sat at work I thought (yes, I can work, sit and think at the same time, although in general I am not a fan of multi-tasking), I cannot compose another blog post on the fly, sitting at my computer, typing off the cuff, Lame Post Friday or not. After all, there have been other Lame Post Fridays where I have handwritten in my notebook (my preferred method of writing) perfectly nice posts, an acceptable level of silliness for the day, readable, humorous (or did I flatter myself?). I’d link back to a few, but I’m awfully tired right now.

Yes, as you have guessed, I did not write anything earlier. I tried and tried to think of something. All I could come up with was something I have posted as a Facebook status:

If we know Dasher and Dancer and Prancer etc., why would we NOT recall the most famous reindeer of all? Hello! Famous? Does that not mean well-known? If we do not recall him, he’s NOT VERY FAMOUS, IS HE? (I guess I didn’t need the caps there; I’m getting a little cranky).

I was mentioning this at work and a co-worker, who knows I am Mohawk Valley Girl, thought it would make a good article. I thought it would make kind of a short one but did not despair of coming up with at least a couple paragraphs. Then as I pondered the question, I remembered something. In the Regency Romances I read, the characters often use the word “famous” the way we used “awesome” in the ’80s or “amazing” these days. Not for its literal meaning but just to mean really really good.

Oh dear, there went my blog post. And now I am really tired (I think I mentioned that earlier). And I have rehearsal to go to (I know I mentioned the play I’m in). But look, I’m over 300 words. That’s more than respectable. Happy Friday, everyone.

What’s This All About?

So there I was, on wordpress.com trying to write a blog post. And it was not going well. So I left WordPress and went to Facebook, an ever-present help in times of trouble. I went to the Facebook page of the place I was trying to write about. From there I clicked onto their website and read some more about them, made a couple of notes, clicked back to Facebook, checked my notifications (only one), read down a few new statuses, kept scrolling, said oh yeah, blog post.

I came back to wordpress.com and clicked on an icon I had not clicked on before. Now, it seems, I am using the new editor. Will it make it any easier to write a post? So far I must say, I am not a fan. For one reason, there is no word count at the bottom. How can I know when I have met my self-imposed minimum of 200 words without a word count? You needn’t think I’m going to count them myself. I rarely do the math.

And what about the post I abandoned earlier? Don’t worry, I saved it. I intend to finish it, but I don’t imagine I will be able to do so today. It’s not Tired Tuesday yet, but I sure am tired. I’m hoping this nonsense will count as a Middle-aged Musings Monday.

I feel I should perhaps add that this is not the only writing I have done today. Earlier this evening I worked on an article I intend to submit to Mohawk Valley Living, my favorite magazine. And when I first got to wordpress.com I added to some comments I had made to another blogger, Return of the Modern Philosopher. So I’m afraid I used up the words that were in me today on frivolous things other than this blog. I hope nobody feels dissed.

Unnecessary Angst

I have a problem with writing about my Mohawk Valley adventures. I can’t seem to write about them right after they happen. So say I don’t have any adventures during the week, so I write stupid posts, then I have a couple of good ones on Friday, then Friday evening I finally get in front of the computer… I go blank.

I say to my husband Steve, “I don’t know what to make my blog post about.” He says, “Write about tonight.” But I feel if I just write off the cuff, typing off the top of my head as it were, I’m going to leave out important stuff and not do justice to the adventures we had.

Well that’s fine, someone might say, just write about it tomorrow. Oh, now the pressure’s really on. I waited a day so I could make it good. What if it’s not good enough? Oh no!

I’ve probably talked about this angst before. Now I’m repeating myself. This gets worse and worse. I’m not only going to not write a good enough post about what we did tonight, I’m writing a stupid post about not being able to write a good post now!

Then again, it is Lame Post Friday. And some people are amused by my ridiculous posts. As always, I can only try again tomorrow.

As Truman Capote Said, “That’s Not Writing, That’s Typing”

It hasn’t been a month since I took a blogger’s sick day. Sorry, but I’m taking one now. However, since today can’t be the day I don’t make a blog post, I’m going to try to think of a few words to type in and I’ll hit publish.

I’ve really been quite blessed lately in suffering from fewer headaches than previously. And I am blessed in that I managed to put in a full day’s work (at least I spent the allotted amount of time at my place of employment, if you really want to be a stickler about these things) (and I know some of you do), and I got my laundry done, even folded. Perhaps not folded neatly, but what miracles of housekeeping do you want from me (this is a rhetorical question)? So much for looking on the bright side.

I have a great number of Mohawk Valley adventures planned for the next couple of days. So I should feel grateful I had the headache today, when I only planned to go to the laundromat. Here is a chance for some half-baked philosophy: is a hated chore made substantially worse by a migraine or is it under the heading As Long As It Sucks, Might As Well Really Suck? Discuss amongst yourselves.

As some of my more unkind readers are saying, “Speaking of sucking, this post…” I realize I am over 200 words. I can hit Publish and go back to nursing my head. Hope to see you on Lame Post Friday.

Vegetables or Blog?

To chop vegetables or make my blog post, that is the question. Perhaps a little less profound than “to be or not to be,” but I find it entirely appropriate for Wuss-out Wednesday.

It would really be a good idea if I chopped vegetables for my lunch tomorrow. I have some celery, which does not last as long as one would like. I have carrots and radishes, which last longer but are not nonperishable. More to the point, I am NOT meeting my weight-loss goals and including raw vegetables in my lunch will help. If I needed another reason, there is the therapeutic benefit of chopping up vegetables.

Of course, one reaches the full benefit by also sipping a glass of wine (only one since there is a knife involved; safety first). I mean, it’s still a soothing thing to do even without the wine. But I say give yourself every advantage. Unfortunately I cannot benefit from wine till later. I have rehearsal in about an hour.

For those of you just tuning in, rehearsal is for the play Busybody at Ilion Little Theatre. It will be presented at the last weekend of January and first weekend of February. I have rather a large part. In fact, rehearsal is less than an hour away. Less than an hour? Yikes! No wonder I’m so flustered. I don’t think chopping vegetables would calm me down at this point with or without wine. Is typing in my blog post having a similar therapeutic effect? Not noticeably.

So I have determined that neither chopping vegetables nor posting my blog is going to make me feel any better right now. However, consider this: I can eat a lunch without vegetables. I have done it before. But in three years I have not gone a day without making a blog post. I am not going to start today!

Therefore I make bold to hit Publish for this collection of nonsense and continue getting ready for rehearsal. Will the vegetables ever get chopped? I don’t know, so I must leave you in suspense. See you on Non-Sequitur Thursday.

Cold, Dark But Not Horrible Run

As I was running this morning, I realized two things: Sunday Running Commentary is becoming my new feature and I was narrating in my head in the past tense.

Narrating in my head is nothing new; I’ve done it all my life. I always read a lot of books and figured my life was one of them. This morning I was narrating my blog post. I only started narrating in the first person since I’ve been writing this blog, but point of view is a whole other discussion. I realized that thinking in the past tense was not a bad idea, because it presupposed I was going to bring the run to an acceptable conclusion. You know, like when you’re reading a suspense novel and you know the narrator is going to live, because he or she is telling the story. If I was going to collapse into a snowbank and perish, who would be making the blog post?

Not that I expected to perish in a snowbank. I didn’t feel that I was rocking it, but it wasn’t horrible. It was, however, cold and dark. And I was running in the road. I almost never run in the road. Give myself every advantage, I say. Keep away from traffic. However, the sidewalks were ice covered. I don’t mind running in snow; the resistance burns calories. Ice is another story. I have a fear of falling. Good thing I’m not taller or I’d never stand up.

I went early so that I wouldn’t have a chance to talk myself out of it, which we all know I am pretty good at doing (what a useless collection of talents I have). The sun was not up, so I wore my reflective vest. Now I could run in the road with no fears. Also, 6:11 on a Sunday morning (yes, I noted the exact time I left), how much traffic could there be?

I turned down German Street, a notoriously busy street and went some way in blissful solitude. Left side facing traffic, of course. You’d be surprised the number of runners who do not follow this simple rule. One car. He didn’t slow down but he got over a little. I turned down a less busy street. Another car way in the distance. Was he headed this way? I turned down a side street just in case. No cars here.

Very few lights in windows to encourage me. I do feel encouraged to think I’m not the only idiot out of bed. Oh, I know, I may be the only idiot, but I’m not the only one out of bed. There was one. A hall or bathroom light left on all night? Hard to say. There was a Christmas star all lit up on a front porch. Nice. I do look forward to walking Tabby after dark and seeing all the holiday lights.

I turned down a long stretch and saw a pedestrian way in the distance. Someone walking their dog? I do love to stop running briefly to pet a dog. Down the middle of the street they went. Seemed a little foolhardy, even at this early hour. Well, if they were up to some nefarious purpose they would hardly be in such an obtrusive place, would they? Anyways, my friends from Coffee and Conversation with a Cop told me the bad element was generally in bed by 4 a.m. (my usual early morning running time).

The cold air was not helpful. Regular readers know my sinuses preclude my following the in-through-your-nose-out-through-your-mouth dictum. In fact my nose was running rather copiously. One of the nice features of my reflective vest is the zipper pocket, so I had a tissue. It’s the little things.

My body as a whole was not particularly enjoying the run, but I realized my legs were OK for the most part. I felt grateful for my legs. Perhaps I should have tried on some of the mini skirts I saw at the Thrift Store yesterday. My legs are actually pretty nice for a woman my age. I used to be quite an aficionado of mini skirts. Pondering the question kept me going for a few more blocks.

I ended up going 24 minutes. Still on the plateau but at least I’m not going downhill. Incidentally I ended up back on German Street near the end of my run for one block. I encountered two cars. I felt a little ill-used over that. No cars, no cars, no cars, then two cars in one damn block! What’s that all about? No matter, they didn’t hit me.

The best part of my walk was my cool-down walk with my schnoodle Tabby. I always love the cool-down walk. I almost always love to walk, especially with my dog, but a walk after a run is a beautiful thing. I hope I find time to run again soon.

Writing, Winter and Wuss-out Wednesday

Here’s a way to make yourself write: have something else you really, really ought to be doing instead. Don’t let yourself write while you do this other thing. Then put the other thing aside when you really ought to still be working on it, and write.

It’s fun.

OK, this is going to be a foolish blog post, but it is about writing, and some people like to read about writing. I know I do.

I mentioned yesterday that I had not written a blog post, because I was working on learning my lines for a play I am in. Of course I have not learned my lines yet (give me a break; it’s only been a couple of days). I brought my script with me to work, so I could work on them before shift and on breaks.

But I also wanted to write a blog post so as not to be composing at the keyboard after I got home from work (as, astute readers will have noticed, I am in fact doing). I had an idea to write about an old movie I watched over the weekend. I had composed a few sentences in my head while I worked (between dithering about other things, see yesterday’s post). I started to write.

I wrote two pages. My shift started. I thought of more things to write. During the first break I wrote them down. I finished a third page in triumph. I LOVE to write! Then I went back to work. I worked on my lines during lunch and the afternoon break. I still haven’t learned them all. These things take time, you know.

While I was working, writing and working, winter returned to the Mohawk Valley in the form of a LOT of snow. I had to brush off my SUV. Why oh why did I not buy a short, small car that is easier to brush off? I went to my husband’s place of employment, because I thought it would be a good idea if we switched cars so the SUV would be last in the driveway tomorrow.

Before going to his car and going home, I shopped. As usual this involved a lot of walking around and dithering (I don’t know why dithering doesn’t burn more calories; it certainly tires me out). I had to brush off Steven’s car, a little Dodge Stratus. I discovered that although it is easier to brush off a car that is not as tall as I am, it is still a pain in my butt.

Oh dear, those last two paragraphs were not about writing, were they? Well, they are to indicate to you why I feel too tired to type in the lovely pages I wrote while at work today. For another reason, they need editing.

All this by way of telling you, I am taking a Wuss-out Wednesday right after yesterday’s Tired Tuesday. More cynical readers are not surprised. Optimistic readers are disappointed. Kind readers will hope I get a good night’s sleep. I hope everyone will tune in again tomorrow, when it will be Thanksgiving, and we will all give thanks if I can write a decent post. As always, thank you for playing.

It’s My Birthday, Dammit!

My sister Diane told me I should use that as the title. I had really thought I would make a “real” post today, but I don’t know why I thought that. I’ve been running around doing things and now I’m sitting here composing at the keyboard and wanting nothing more than to get to the sweats on, bra off, sitting on my couch crocheting portion of the day.

One does the best one can, doesn’t one? I offer a Preview of Coming Attractions, which may sound remarkably like What I Did Instead of Writing a Blog Post for Today.

I started doing things yesterday with a wine tasting at Vintage Spirits, always a fun thing to write a post about. This morning I did not run, which would have led to a dandy running commentary. However, I may run tomorrow, so we have that to look forward to (me the run and writing the post, you reading the post) (if you like that sort of thing). I did, however, finish two letters and write three post cards which I then mailed, walking to the post office with my delightful schnoodle, Tabby. Walks with Tabby are often good for a post.

My day was just getting started. I went to a craft fair at the Saquoit Middle School with my sister Cheryl and my mother. What fun that was! And it involved an enjoyable drive over scenic country roads. The journey and the destination are worth writing about. My trip home, with almost freezing rain, was equally memorable.

Back in Herkimer, I stopped at Valley Wine and Liquors where another wine tasting was going on. Oh stop shaking your heads and calling me a lush (you know who you are), I only tasted a few wines. We didn’t even open the bottle we purchased last night and what I bought today I intend to save for Thanksgiving. There is every chance we will open last night’s bottle and have a glass or two tonight, but for heavens’ sake, did you not read the title of the piece? It’s my birthday, dammit! Sheesh!

Well, this is a respectable 300 words. At least, it’s 300 words. Describe them by the adjective of your choice. I’m going back to my birthday celebrations.

How Do You Spell “Get My Act Together”?

I may institute a new feature: Panic Button Day. That is when I have something to do in the evening, several things to get done before that, and no blog post written. Why, oh why did I not write something on break at work? Well, I tried. All I could manage was a letter to my sister, in which I lamented that I couldn’t think of anything to write a blog post about.

My event of the evening is the monthly dinner meeting of Ilion Little Theatre. That is a bonafide Mohawk Valley adventure, which I could in fact write about after I go there. But I’ll be tired by then. And the dinner is BYOB and, well, I thought I would. Never drink and type. You make a lot of typos that way.

A pause while I look up “bonafide.” I have a big red Random House Webster’s College Dictionary that was given to me by a friend many years ago. It is invaluable at times like these. My computer is highly unreliable. For example, the dictionary says it’s “bona fide” or “bonafide.” My computer underlines both versions. Quite frankly, I don’t think technology is all it’s cracked up to be.

I still have to figure out what to wear to my meeting. This makes it a bonafide wrist-to-forehead occasion (I went to the trouble of looking it up, I thought I’d use it again). As usual, I am dreadfully sorry about not having a real post. But perhaps it will amuse my readers to laugh at my haplessness (not going to look up that one).