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This is Not What I Wrote on Break at Work

Oh this is dreadful.  I was so determined NOT to have a Wuss-out Wednesday.  I brought all my notes and fliers from the weekend’s adventures to work with me.  When it was break time I opened my notebook and started writing!

Well, first I couldn’t settle on a lead.  That shouldn’t matter, I told myself.  Just write something, anything.  You can always edit later.  I wrote a sentence.  Crossed it out.  Wrote another sentence.  Crossed it out.  Consulted my notes.  Realized I had left at least one flier at home.  Sat with my pen poised over the notebook till the buzzer rang and I had to go back to work.

During a ten minute break, by the way, I had worked on, I think, three potential blog posts and one article for Mohawk Valley Living magazine.  If anyone is gearing up to lecture me on focus, just give it a rest.  I gotta be me.

Back at work, I pondered my dilemma.  I picked one topic I thought I could get written.  I considered the different things I could write about it.  I went to lunch, opened my notebook, picked up my pen, and started writing.

I got almost a whole page done.  Aaahh.  I didn’t hate it.  I barely crossed anything out.   I was following my notes and adding insights and observations.  I could so write!  This was going to be just fine, a perfectly acceptable blog post.

And then the whole thing just  kind of petered out.  I was maybe a quarter of the way through my notes.  I reminded myself that I did not have to use ALL my notes.  But how many notes should I use?  Had I used the notes I’d used so far to best advantage?  Was this really anything anybody would want to read?

I know, this is inner critic carping that one must tune out while in the throes of composition.  The problem is, the bitch had a point.  What I had written may indeed have been perfectly acceptable, but I could do better.  It was almost the end of lunch time anyways.  I could fix everything later.

Who knew I would be so tired after work?  Oh, I know YOU probably did (you know who you are).  For heaven’s sake, three ten-hour days, two rehearsals, not a lot of sleep, swelteringly hot, humid weather.  AND NO, I AM NOT COMPLAINING ABOUT THE HEAT, I AM MERELY POINTING OUT THE FACT THAT IT MAKES ME TIRED!!!  Jeezum.

On the brighter side, some readers enjoy posts about the writing process.  I myself often enjoy reading what other bloggers have to say on the subject.  On the even brighter side, I still have the stuff I wrote today.  I can look it over and edit, add, polish etc, tomorrow.  And I don’t have rehearsal tonight.  I can go to bed early.

I hope you are all having a stellar mid-week.


Hot Under the Collar

So yesterday, while I was typing in my Monday whatever-it-was (Middle-aged Musings or Mental Meanderings), I remembered Bad Attituesday.  Just in time, because that is what I am having right now.

It really was not a bad day at work.  Things got awfully warm, and I am almost always something of a heat injury (that’s a real thing, you know;  even the army didn’t think I was being a big fat baby) (well, not about that, anyways, but we’re not talking about the army).

Where was I?  Ah yes, not a bad day at work.  I even started to write some stupid thing that may have made a decent blog post, before the heat injury portion of the day.  Now I’m home and the Bad Attitude portion of the day has hit me in full force.

What, I must ask, the hell is wrong with me?  I got home, took a refreshing cool shower, drank some iced coffee… these are things that ought to improve one’s mood.  Could it be anxiety over tonight’s rehearsal for Roxy (you know, that play I’m in at Ilion Little Theatre)?  One reason for tension is that I have nothing decent to wear.  You see, I want to wear skirts to rehearse in, because I will be wearing a skirt for performances.  It will help inform my character.

I have many skirts, some of which even still fit (I have been gaining and losing weight since the ’80s).  I found a wraparound India skirt I purchased in, I believe 1983.  As everyone knows, a wraparound skirt will almost always fit.  I found a t-shirt in a compatible color.

Therein lies my problem.  All my t-shirts lately have been binding on my neck.  Am I getting a fat neck in my old age?  Oh for heavens’ sake!  I can live with the arthritis, hot flashes, presbyopia and general breaking down of my body.  I can even accept the fact that it is much harder to lose weight.  But a fat neck?  What’s that all about?

Then again, the character I play in Roxy is the first and last woman hanged in Herkimer County.  Perhaps a shirt that is a little tight around the neck can inform my character.  A good actor utilizes all possible resources.  I bet even my bad attitude will come in handy.  Hope to see you all on Wednesday.


Midsummer Monday

I began the week determined to write my blog posts in advance.  I would not spend the week composing nonsense at the keyboard, mostly about how I just can’t write a real blog post.  I was going to Write Real Blog Posts.

So far, not so good.

In my defense, quite a full weekend, ten hour day today, rehearsal tonight (you know, for the play I’m in?).  Oh, and temperatures in the 80s (92 in Little Falls, which is not that far away).  I do not work in an air conditioned building.  When I did work in an air conditioned building, I wore  sandals skirts with no pantyhose.  Now I wear steel-toed work shoes and BDU pants.  I say this with pride, not complaint.  I am bad ass.

Unfortunately, “bad ass” does not necessarily translate into “able to write awesome blog posts.”

I tried, I really did.  Actually, what I first tried to write was an article for Mohawk Valley Living magazine.  I thought perhaps I could publish a shortened version for the blog.  It did not go well.  I tried to work on my novel.  I wrote one sentence on a scene I had previously written.  That effectively brought the scene to an end.  I started another scene.  Then I couldn’t remember if one character did or did not believe in ghosts.

How could I forget such a thing?  How long have I been living with these characters?  What kind of a writer am I?  I was too traumatized to write anything else.  I looked over my lines for the play then helped a co-worker with a crossword puzzle.

Now I must finish getting ready for rehearsal.  For anyone just tuning in, it is for Roxy, at Ilion Little Theatre.  I play Roxy.  And I just realized something:  yesterday was Severed Head Sunday.  Today I am going to rehearsal for a play in which I CHOP MY HUSBAND’S HEAD OFF!  Oh how delightful to have something in common with Joan Crawford!

So what if I can’t always write an awesome blog post?  I’m still bad ass.


Severed Head Sunday

Spoiler Alert!  I’m going to be talking about several movies and I’m not going to worry if I give anything away.  Jaws, Strait-Jacket, Sleepy Hollow, The Brain that Wouldn’t Die.

We’re watching Jaws, because it is a good summer flick.  This is what I call relaxing movie viewing: something we’ve seen before that we can just enjoy.  Until the moment when Robert Shaw scrapes his fingernails along the chalkboard to get everybody’s attention during the big village meeting.  I cringed.

“My most UN-favorite moment of the movie,” I said.  “I don’t even mind the severed head.”

In fact, the first time I saw the severed head (you know, when Richard Dreyfus is underwater looking at the recently sunken boat), I jumped and said, “EEWW!”  But it’s a great moment in a scary movie.  Thinking about it, I came up with the title of today’s blog post.  I hope you like it as much as I do.

Last night we watched Strait-Jacket with the incomparable Joan Crawford.  This movie featured several severed heads.  It is one of my favorites.  I loved it even before I knew it was produced and directed by that master of such movies, William Castle.

Naturally I started thinking about other movies we could watch that featured severed heads.  My first thought was Sleepy Hollow, or as I like to call it, The Headless Everybody.  I told Steven we should watch some more severed head films and he said, “Like The Brain that Wouldn’t Die.”

“You’re a genius,” I said.

Ooh, as I typed all this in, the movie progressed and they are ALMOST to the moment of the severed head.  I must stop typing and watch.  As I look back on this post, I do not believe the Spoiler Alert was truly necessary.  No matter.  A couple of bold-faced words is always a good start for a blog post.  I hope you are all enjoying your Sunday as much as I am.


We Interrupt this Scattered Saturday to Make a Blog Post

I have been adventuring all afternoon after getting up at 3:30 a.m. and working overtime, with the result that I am too tired to compose a proper blog post (what a surprise, me not making a proper post.  Say it ain’t so!).  I will go with my usual Scattered Saturday method and give a brief overview of what we did.

We headed to Richfield Springs, NY to go to the Richfield Springs Historic Association Museum and Exhibit Hall.   We knew it was located at 134 W. Main St., but you know, Main Street in any town can be long.  We missed it the first time through but noticed a Farmer’s Market going on. We turned around and parked near that.  We figured it was a nice day for a stroll down Main Street in any case.

The Farmer’s Market had some interesting looking vendors.  I would have liked to purchase some cheese or produce, but since  I was not sure how long it would have to stay in my hot car, I refrained.  On down Main Street we went. Richfield Springs is a charming little village.  I pushed the button to get a Walk signal just about the time a fire engine was turning onto Main at that corner.

The fire truck was followed by roughly 8,764 motorcycles (no, I didn’t count them, but I thought that number was closer to the truth than “a bazillion,” which is what I started to type).  It must have been some official ride for something, although I never found out what.  Still, it was fun to see all the motorcycles.  I do love a parade.

When we finally found the museum, it still lacked ten minutes till it opened.  Luckily we had noticed a store a couple of doors down called “Finders Keepers.”  It was easy to kill some time wandering around looking at antiques, collectibles and, well, one man’s trash.  Then we were on to the museum.

I’ll write more about both Finders Keepers and the museum later.  For now I’ll just say we had a great time and both places are definitely worth another visit.  We walked back to the vehicle feeling that if that was all we did, it would not be a bad afternoon’s adventure.  As we reached our vehicle,  I noticed a lady walking down the sidewalk.

“Hey!  That’s Aunt Mary!”  I didn’t mention that my Aunt Mary and Uncle Ted live in Richfield Springs, but they do.  I had gotten their phone number from my mother thinking we might call and stop by at some point.  As it turned out, we would not have had a chance to do so, but Aunt Mary and I had a nice little chat on the sidewalk.

Our adventures continued and included Pail Shop Vineyards, Jerry’s Place, Dyn’s Cider Mill, Rustic Ridge Winery, and a whole lot of driving through windy, hilly country roads.   We had a wonderful afternoon.

And now I’m tired.  I’m having a cup of coffee, which may revive me somewhat.  One might think I could then write a better blog post, but I don’t think this one is contemptible. Or do I flatter myself?  No matter.  I’m over 500 words.  I’m going back to enjoying my weekend with my husband.  Happy Saturday, everyone.


Undeserved Lame Time

I almost always have Lame Post Friday, even when it is not a “real” Friday for me due to overtime on Saturday (love that overtime check, hate getting up early on a Saturday, DON’T tell me I have nothing to complain about!).  Lame Post Friday, in case you’ve forgotten, is my time for random observations and half-baked philosophy.  I actually had some half-baked philosophy earlier this evening.  Let’s see if I can remember it.

I hate it when you say you do something and somebody else says, “I don’t have TIME for that” for whatever reason.  Doesn’t it make you feel like a huge slacker with loads of undeserved leisure time?  Oh, don’t tell me that nobody can “make” me feel a certain way, we are not having that discussion today.

The fact is, we all have the same 24 hours in a day. Perhaps  I do use those hours to my best advantage.  But I don’t need anybody telling me that!  That’s rude!

Oh, I know, the “I don’t have time” person said nothing about ME, why am I taking it so personally?  Still, I can’t help feeling that they are drawing an unflattering comparison.   This could be a whole other discussion about people saying things and putting it all on you if you feel offense.  “I didn’t say anything about YOU!”  Oh yeah, right.  I don’t think we should abdicate responsibility for our implications (how’s that for a fancy turn of phrase?).

Full disclosure:  I went to a wine tasting at Ilion Wine and Spirits before I wrote this.  I had a very good time and intend to write a blog post about the winery who hosted the tasting.

Right now, however, I have to begin the relaxing portion of my evening prior to going to bed and getting enough rest for tomorrow’s overtime.  I hope to also have a couple of Mohawk Valley adventures after work.  I hope you’re all having a lovely Friday.


Actually, I Prefer Paul Verhoeven

I said to my husband Steven, “I can’t have a Non-Sequitur Thursday after I had a Tired Tuesday AND  a Wuss-out Wednesday.”  And he said, “They expect if of you by now,” quickly adding, “in a good way.”

On overtime.  In a play.  Having wine on the deck right now.  Have to go to dinner or stay here and cook something before getting to bed early for more overtime tomorrow… Yeah, I’m going to make another silly post.

I really do love writing a blog.  I love trying to come up with something every day.  I sadly cannot say “something different,” because sometimes I fear I am depressingly the same.  “I can’t write anything today!”  or “I must write a silly post today”  or… you know all my variations on a theme (perhaps that would have been a good title, but then it wouldn’t have been Non-Sequitur Thursday).

One reason we sat out on the deck drinking wine is that we were waiting for a friend to come over and borrow an army thing of mine.  I hope he does not mind my mentioning that. I thought I would bring it up for the sake of plugging his blog, The Dorky Daddy.  I really like that blog.

Speaking of liking blogs, I was going to write a post titled, “So Many Blogs, So Little Time,” because I don’t always have time to read all the blogs I follow or even check out other blogs who have Liked or Followed me.  Sorry, fellow bloggers!  I’ll try to do better!

In the meantime, Happy Thursday, everyone. And I believe we are going OUT for dinner.  I may even have another glass of wine.



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