Tag Archives: SOCS

All The Leaves Are Brown [SOCS]

Leaves 🍁 are lovely when they change color, and it used to be a fine tradition to press them in waxed paper between leaves of a book, when we found particularly pretty specimens. Now, I live in Southern California, where we don’t generally have a visible change of seasons, and I also do most of my reading electronically. But I’m not one to pine away for the past, for the most part. I’ve never been back East since I left in 1983, to witness the beautiful colors of the trees in autumn, though I wouldn’t mind going, someday.

My first thought was to write about people leaving, as in relationships, but I like to begin the SOCS with the prompt word, in its proper form, and I couldn’t come up with anything that made grammatical sense. For the regular daily prompts, I don’t always use them in their proper form, and now this inconsistency may bother me.

Or not!

I see I italicized pine because I thought I’d stuff this post with more tree words, but I forgot, and now it’s time to branch out to other endeavors and schedule this thing already. Yes, I am barking mad, thank you for asking! πŸ€ͺ

So Shall Me Me Me [SOCS]

Social is not an adjective people would apply to me. Then again, I’m not exactly antisocial either. I go to game nights and other peopley events nearly every week. I’m not a shy soul ~ I’ve done stand-up comedy. But I can’t bear huge, squashy crowds, like malls at holidays or giant indoor concerts. I hate feeling trapped up next to people… but I’m not claustrophobic because I don’t mind being in small spaces if I’m alone. In fact, I much prefer a tiny cozy room to the scary emptiness of a vast open field. And I do need a significant amount of alone/quiet time simply to “recharge” my emotional batteries. I can’t be around other people jibber jabbering night after night!

Speaking of people, I’ve believed for some time that social media has made us less social. I know that sounds contradictory, but hear me out. First, we’re buried in our phones 24/7. You hardly see anyone’s face when you’re in public. Gone are the days when you made idle conversation with someone waiting at the store or DMV or doctor’s office, etc. Why would you talk to them and interrupt whatever they’re doing on their phone?

Second, supposedly we’re all connected to so many more people now than ever before due to technology, but how many of these friends inside your phone would actually, physically help you in an emergency? Who, exactly, would you call? Yeah. I know. Me too. It’s basically down to a daughter who lives 40 miles away and another friend I had before social media and possibly a few others. But none of my twitter/blog peeps, even though we “interact” daily, would be on that list. Used to be, I made more of an effort to say hello and chat with neighbors, but why bother now? I have bloggy and twitter friends! πŸ˜‚

Third, in the olden days, what did you do when you felt alone with your odd ideas or interests? Maybe you found a kindred spirit, if you were lucky enough and looked hard enough, and then you could happily share your weirdness. Or you decided to try to acclimate to a more mainstream hobby in order to have friends. Is that so bad? Instead of finding another freak to assist you in pulling off butterfly wings, you joined a bowling league. But now in the age of social media, you don’t have to compromise and go bowling to have friends. You can stay home and hang out with a few dozen wackos in a chat group from other parts of the world who also enjoy torturing butterflies.

I don’t think that’s better! Some interests should be suppressed. Some people shouldn’t be able to find each other. God only knows what horrible things people are discussing right at this moment… whatever you may imagine, I guarantee that it’s worse.

This will be yet another one of Paula’s Unpopular Opinions. 😜

β€œThou art a worry to thy friends” [SOCS]

Linda told us to grab the closest book, open it, and put our finger on a page ~ this would be our Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt. Mine is the quote in the title, which is on page 64 of Tortilla Flat by John Steinbeck, a used paperback I picked up at an exchange a while back but haven’t read yet.

Honestly, I’m not really inclined to read the book now, given the annoying dialog on this page, and the names of the characters (Pilon and Pirate). I feel it well within my rights to make such an arbitrary and snap judgment because I have an enormous pile of books to read, and more come in all the time. I’ll never get through them all before I die, so why not cull them in any manner whatsoever?

May sucked as far as reading. I began a few books and lost interest, played games on my phone, read a lot of blogs and news, and was basically a scatterbrain. I need to get more focused now. Today I deleted my phone solitaire games that I play when I can’t sleep, and which probably keep me from sleeping too. Duh. I could spend that time reading. It’s less stimulating as far as keeping me awake like a game. But to be fair, I have dozed off in the middle of a card game, though not often. Maybe once.

I don’t think I’m a worry to my friends. I’m very sensible and predictable, at least that’s how I’m perceived. Reliable. Dependable. I can be counted on to do a thing if I say… which is also a curse, you know? Because unreliable people always get a break. Hey, no biggie if Joe didn’t show up… we know how he is. And oh there goes Janet again, such a wild and crazy gal! But me? If I mess up or don’t show, everyone is all but you said!!!

Eff that. Why can’t I be the wild one once in a while? But it’s not me, I know. I like plans. I schedule everything. I’m on time, or early. I reply. I’m considerate. Bla bla bla. Boring! I’ve even tried to plan my own funeral. I want one of those I Dream of Jeannie urns. I want to have coconut cupcakes and a song list. Hotel California, of course. New Kid in Town. Those Shoes. Tequila Sunrise. End of the Innocence. And a lot of Neil Diamond. Jimmy Buffett. Fleetwood Mac. Supremes. Sheryl Crow. Gordon Lightfoot. Johnny Cash and Rosanne Cash. But that’s a bit too planny.

Maybe.

Quiet! [SOCS]

Silence is golden, it has been said. Who said that? Idk, maybe it was in the Torah or possibly some philosopher thought of it while he was sitting under a tree, thinking deep thoughts, munching on bread his wife baked as he ignored her, and sipping wine donated by grateful villagers eager to hear his next nugget of wisdom.

Ponderously, Phil the philosopher arose from his lotus position, shaking his robe free from breadcrumbs. He left his trash under the tree for less intelligent people to deal with. Majestically, he trod up the old wooden steps to the village square, his leather sandals making flappity noises that vexed him. He waited until enough of a crowd had gathered before he began to speak. They raised their faces, eager for information, the pitiful creatures. But he loved them, especially their donations.

As the group increased in size, they began to jabber amongst themselves because it was always exciting when Phil had a new piece of knowledge to bestow. What would he tell them this time? Would he impart a message from the gods about how to grow crops for better yields? A sign from the stars about coming storms to prepare for? They began to guess and wager…

“Silence!” Phil bellowed. “There is entirely too much noise in this village. Too much clattering, chattering, gossiping, moans in the night, slamming of doors, screams of terror, splashing in the river, on and on. I can’t even think straight! How am I to receive messages from above?”

People gasped and looked sad. Oh no! This was terrible. Poor Phil.

Phil continued, “Today, as I pondered all this annoyance, I realized that was in fact the message.”

Everyone was confused, for these were not bright people. What was the message? Had they missed it? They began to argue about what Phil had just said.

“Quiet!” he yelled. “Silence is golden.”

Ah! Silence is golden. Three simple words. This, they understood.

“From now on,” Phil said. “Everyone must strive to be much quieter, day and night, so we can all hear our thoughts more clearly. Well, so I can at least. You people probably don’t have many thoughts.”

A dog barked.

Phil smiled at his favorite villager. “You too, Harvard.”

Not A Poesy

Nosy neighbors populate my current novel in progress. Sometimes they come across as annoying, but then I’ll show another side to them. I don’t like my readers to get too cozy in their assumptions about what might be happening, although of course it is a romance, so we will end with the HEA. It’s funny that someone as cynical as I am about love will don her rosy lenses to write about a fictional world of relationships working out… or is it? πŸ˜βœ¨πŸ’•

Gloomily Yours

Sadly, I haven’t been very creative this week. Every time a prompt appears in my feed, I diligently save it in my folder with the intention to write something later. But night after night, later has faded into sleep. Also, I’ve been stressed about some stuff, but I gently remind myself… it’s not that important. Family (including Mr. Gatsby), health, work: those are hugely important. Everything else? Less so. Much less. The news can get me feeling hopeless about the future too, but I at least I only read it and don’t watch it obsessively on TV like many do. That would drive me more nuts. Doubly depressing this week was the weather, turning cold and rainy again, triggering a bunch of migraines. Or one long migraine rather, broken up with meds. Hopefully I’ll get back on schedule soon and be able to tackle the items on my writing to-to list. 😐

Choo-Choo [SOCS]

Sometimes you’re chugging along with a nice train of thought, lots of clean shiny cars (or maybe even some dirty ones IYKWIMAITYD), but other times the damn thing won’t even leave the station and then, my friends, is when we have a strain of thought.

What’s the problem, train? Why won’t you goooo? I pace the empty cars, searching for inspiration, a lost photo, an old song, even the scent of a forgotten candle, but no. Nothing. It’s so frustrating because I have all this time, loads of lovely hours to write, but the train sits there stubbornly as dusk falls outside the windows.

I wash dishes, play with the cat, vacuum, tidy up my paperwork, waiting for the train to move its caboose, and then finally as I’m getting sleepy, bam! Off it goes into the night, ideas whizzing by in the starry dark as I drift off to dreamland.

That’s okay. These ideas are so spectacular that I’ll remember them in full clarity the instant I wake up in the morning. No need to get up now and make notes… πŸ˜΄πŸ’€πŸŒ™

Expository [SOCS]

Experiences over things” is another one of those irritating expressions that people parrot mindlessly. I used to see it creep onto dating profiles before I exited that whole expanse of pants. πŸ˜›

What does it mean? Welp, let me explain. Instead of buying Mom a nice cupcake-scented candle or a cute kitty tee shirt for Mother’s Day, take her to Tahiti. Don’t get Dad a boring tie for Father’s Day either ~ think of the wasteful packaging! Consider doing something more fun like taking him ziplining over the Amazon. Dads love that! Put the expense on his credit card. πŸ˜‚

People without a lot of money have always been creating experiences. Family dinners, picnics, BBQs, potlucks, game nights, a day at the beach/lake/park, etc. are all part of normal life for everyday folks. It’s only now that the rich have discovered they haven’t been spending enough time with people who matter that they’ve come up with this absurd phrase. πŸ™„

Also, for anyone who may be related to me: I still expect the candle and tee shirt.

Mother’s Day is May 12. 🌷

Dribble [SOCS]

Ribbons and flowers…

Cribbage in bowers…

Don’t try to make sense

Of my scribbling;

It’s 4:30AM.

I do have a list,

Transcribed on a Post-It,

Crushed on my pillow

Right next to my phone,

Which may be cheating,

To some.

The good-sleep hygienists

Would frown at my habits,

And prescribe dozing solo,

But you’d miss me,

I know.

Lip Service πŸ’‹ [SOCS]

Blips are bad when they appear on your phone, but on an EKG you’d better hope you have some.

Clips of politicians acting like jerks I’d rather not click on whether at home or at work.

Flipping my hair to flirt with a dude is something for which I’ve never been in the mood.

Lipstick is lovely in pink or in red, though it can mess up a collar or a pillow in bed. πŸ’‹

Slipping and falling flat on my butt I try to avoid though I don’t have much luck.

Tulips can be tiptoed through, or so Timmy sings, but I wouldn’t want to crush one, since they epitomize Spring!