I’ve noticed a higher tolerance for disorder in my physical space as my emotional landscape has become much less messy. This has been gradual, so I don’t know exactly when it began, but sometime last year I would guess. I suspect it has to do with giving up dating sites and some other activities that stressed me out. Now a cluttered desk and an unmade bed simply don’t bother me the way they used to. My obsession to compulsively keep my tiny corner of the world super organized and at right angles dissipates as inner peace manifests. Who knew? Ommmm…
The Daily Prompt: Messy
I’m glad I’m not famous, or every st00pid thing I’ve written would be immortalized forever. Remember when we used to shoot the shit with friends and those convos would drift off into the aether, lost with our hangovers? If there was any brilliant philosophical insight or poetic piece of pretty, they’d be gone too, poof. But now we tweet and fb our every stray strand of emotion, and hopefully no one screencaps it since we’re nobodies. I myself have deleted more things than I’ve poasted. Yes, while you’re all sleeping, I walk the cyberbeaches in the moonlight and erase my footprints. Well, I used to do a lot more of that; now I do it only sporadically.
While I was poking around the otter day, searching for lost writings, I found this piece of poast* which I really like, even out of context, and will share it with my loyal blogfans.
Laurel Canyon. The summer of nineteen seventy-nine. I am my own gaslighter. I drive too fast on these curvy roads, but I am made of silk and butter, and I slide around danger like an egg on a sizzling skillet, close to the edge, but always slipping back to the center before anything terrible happens. Something would happen soon. I run through the scenarios in my mind every time I leave the house. There are times I believe the bad thing has already occurred and I scour old newspapers for the story. I have to go to the library to find the papers because someone won’t let me see the mail. People creep around the house and hide things from me. Who are they?
I’ve poasted about gaslighting a few times now, and every time I do I end up deleting the poast because it’s too personal and I’m uncomfortable with it sitting out there for anyone to read. Even though this blog doesn’t get much traffic, it is public after all. Theoretically, anyone in the world could stop by. I don’t feel like changing permissions when I get all emotionally vomitatious; I’ve done it in the past and it’s too cumbersome. In any case, I’m not some wannabe counselor or a Linky Laura going for adrev ~ either my poasts are about me or there’s no point.
Well, actually my long game is to accumulate a giant number of blog readers that I can eventually show to a publisher and say SEE I HAZ POTENTIAL BOOK BUYERS! But er for that I would actually need to write a book. Gah, details. Always details!
I had a cold for a week, which wouldn’t be a big deal, except it triggered a cascade of violent migraines and I’ve been very dizzy and nauseated. Still not 100% “normal” yet. I missed a few days of work, and I haven’t been able to write much or do needlework at home. I just zone out in front of the TV every night. But finding that gaslighting snip has motivated me. This weekend I’ll be getting back to my pomes. These are cathartic, a purge of years of old moldy boxes from the attic, and I caution everyone not to buy the poetry book when I plop it onto Amazon because the pomes are simply dreadful. Post-ploppage, I shall return to my Real Writing.
*phrase stolen from the Great & Powerful Lizard
Posted in Admin, Health, Noodling, OCDoodles, Poetry, TV, Writing
Tagged goals, migraines, navel glazing, peeps, psychology, publishing
If I don’t plan a careful time management strategy, I find myself frittering away my nights and weekends on unproductive nonsense. It’s already the end of January and I have made scant progress on the poetry book I want to self-publish ASAP so that I can move on (back) to finish up my fiction in progress. I have not abandoned my writing! It’s all moldering away in perfectly organized computer folders. However, I am pleased to report that my current needlework project is coming along, but there’s still a long way to go on that as well. Onward to victory!
The Daily Prompt: Strategy
Guess what blogfans? I’ve done it, I’ve done it, I’ve finally gone and done it!
YAAAY! Woo hoo! Hurrah for me!
What’s that you ask? No, I have not broken up the Clooney marriage and snagged George for myself. Pffft.
No, I did not quite manage to finagle the million dollar publishing contract. Yet. Just hang in there with me, my loyal peeps.
But I did finally finish something today I set out to do two years ago Thanksgiving and it’s pretty darned exciting if I do say so myself. With only hours to spare as the sun sinks lower in the sky on the last day of 2017 I give you… dun da da dun…
THE COMPLETED SCARF!
I was like a knitting terrorist… knitting for two years, off and on, mostly off, not knowing how to stop. I have a rule that I go to YouTube only for entertainment, never to learn things, and I couldn’t figure out how to stop from printed text, but luckily I remembered that I also have a rule that rules are to be broken…whew! Off to YouTube I scampered, searched for how to end a scarf, found an easy peasy bind off for dummies, and viola.
My scarf is cozy extravagance and I will love it almost as much as Gatsby loves his kitty tunnel (just using up a bunch of prompt words like a good OCDer, don’t mind me, ignore this sentence, thx). Now, like a true creative, I’m immediately jonesing to begin my next project, which will be a (somewhat) self-designed cross-stitch. Stay tuned for deets!
Wishing all my readers a happy and healthy 2018!
The Daily Prompt: Finally
Last evening a couple friends and I got together to play games. Most people would have called it a night after Ticket to Ride ended at 11pm, but not us. We began Chinese checkers, two triangles each, and it went on for three hours. I cherish these friends who, like me, are so crazy they need to stay at the table until the last marble rolls into place. What a blessing it is to find your peeps. I hope my blogfans are enjoying the end of 2017 with family, friends, and pets in good health and happies. Thanks for reading!
The Daily Prompt: Cherish
No, it is not a table piled high with books of pomes. Guess again. Nope, it is not a tabletop laminated with a collage of pomes snippled from the New Yorker, though that is a neat idea, now that I’ve mentioned it.
I’m talking about a table in Word, like my cupcake table. You do remember my cupcake table, don’t you? I still have it! And I can prove it… don’t test me. Anyway, I was doing tables at work last week to organize a project, as you do, and the idea began to form that hey I could organize my pomes like this. The problem I’ve been having with my latest poetry project is that the book is in four sections and I keep rearranging them instead of writing anything new.
Obviously I can’t write new things until the old things are in their proper place. I was mired in an OCD loop of cutting and pasting and flooping things here and there, but it’s hard to keep the entire concept straight in my head when some of the ideas are still only one line and not fleshed out, as it were. Listing the titles of the pomes in the various table sections, and rearranging them there, made so much more sense. Once I’m happy with that, then I fix the actual document. Now I see everything at a glance in the table instead of scrolling through the doc yet again (trying to keep it all in my head without stopping to revise) ~ not only the titles, but also how manu pomes are still unwritten in each section. I’ve already made so much progress in the last several days and feel very poetically productive.
Obviously this table is only for me and won’t appear in the book, which will have an index, since I’ve noticed that newly published Real Poetry Books have indexes, not TOCs, for some reason. This must be why my otter books did not fly off the e-shelves. LOLZ, I make funny.
Yay table! Yay organization! Well, I know at least one person who will appreciate this poast. 🙂
Bouquet. [50-word drabble]
She ran, laughing, plucking flowers at random until her arms overflowed. This one, she cried! And this one and this. Each time she had found the most glorious blossom ever, another flower even more vibrant beckoned. Soon, reaching for the next would mean dropping them all. I watched, and waited.
The Daily Prompt: Reach