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Category Archives: Wuss Out Wednesday

Mid-Week Movies

I KNOW I just two days ago did the picture thing, but who wants to see another post about me whining that I can’t think of a post to write? As I was looking at Facebook, trying to think of SOMETHING to write about, on my On This Day, I saw this and said, “Cool!”

I gotta get me a bra like that.

This is Man Bait from 1952.  I have never seen it, but I love the poster.  The funny thing (to me, anyways) is that I found it on the Facebook page Classic Film Freak.  I do not feel this looks like a classic.  It looks more like one of those B or C (for cheesy) movies I love.  No matter.  It is an awesome poster and I wanted to put it in a blog post.  Naturally I did not want to put just one picture in my blog post.

Returning to Classic Film Freak, the first thing to meet my eye was a poster with one of my all-time favorites:  Boris Karloff!  Yay!

He looks mad!

I never saw this one either.  It is from 1936.  I wonder if TCM will play it sometime.  I’ll have to watch for it.

Another Classic Film I somehow missed.

I thought Buccaneer’s Girl from 1950 tied in with Boris Karloff, because it starred Yvonne DeCarlo, loved by many as Lily Munster.  I see now that the film is even more closely related, as it features Elsa Lanchester, title character in The Bride of Frankenstein.  Another movie for me to seek out, I think  (Buccaneer’s Girl, I mean.  I have  The Bride of Frankenstein on DVD, of course).

It is funny that I am suddenly seeing movies I want to catch.  I recently read a blog post decrying the loss of video stores and telling Netflix a thing of two.  I am not on Netflix nor have I any idea of how to stream anything.  It was Ben’s Bitter Blog, one of my favorites.  It lets me tap into my bitterness, which I usually try to keep out of my blog (you know, because of that “totally fun” line in the subtitle).  I guess I am actually a little bitter now that I did not make a better blog post.  Then again, this is Wuss-out Wednesday.  Guess I’ll hit Publish and drive on.

 

No Boot Straps on Wuss-out Wednesday

I am having the damnedest time writing and have for the longest time.  I think to myself, “I love to write!”  But all I want to do is puzzles, primarily cryptograms with a few others thrown in.  I thought to myself today, this is a symptom of depression:  you like to do something, you know it will help you to do it, and you don’t do it. What the hell, me?

The thought came into my mind, “People who have not experienced it cannot understand the mind-numbing, paralyzing, utter inability…”  I don’t remember how the thought ended, but I immediately felt I could not put such a thought into a blog post.  Nobody would buy it, I thought.  They will tell me to stop being such a whiny baby, and maybe they are right.

I am going through a few things, but let’s face it: We all have problems and many people have far worse ones than mine.  As I have mentioned before, I suffer from depression.  I don’t like to write it or say it, because it sounds like I am asking for sympathy or making an excuse.  And it feels as if I have exposed something private and secret I would really, really rather not talk about.  Some people do not “believe in” depression.  They feel it is a made-up problem and I need to just stop whining and pull myself up by those boot straps they’re always talking about.

Only I rarely wear boots and the ones I have don’t have straps.

Then again, not whining is not a bad start.  I cannot pull myself up by my bootstraps (and what a hoary cliche that is, anyways), but there are things I can do to make myself feel better.  I will try to do some of them.  For example, starting on a better blog post for tomorrow.  We’ll call this one a Wuss-out Wednesday and drive on.

 

Covered Bridges on Wuss-out Wednesday

So here I sit on Wuss-out Wednesday, and not a word comes to mind to type.  Now I am sternly resisting the urge to backspace over what I just typed in.  I know it is not very good, but if I start that type-it-in-backspace-it-out I’ll never finish this post.  As I like to do in these situations, I looked for some photos to use.

 

Ah, summer is coming!

This is an old Vermont post card.  It is of special interest to me, because my husband Steven and two of his nephews are in it.  They were swimming beneath the covered bridge as they often did when the photographer came along.

A little blurry, but pretty cool!

Here is a closer view.  My silly computer won’t make this one any bigger.  I daresay you couldn’t see the participants much better anyways.  I wish I could find another shot to include!

Found one!

I don’t know any of these people.

I actually found a different one on Facebook and downloaded it.  Then when I went to upload it into this post, I saw this one in our downloads.  Steven must have downloaded it.  I don’t know from where or when.  It fits in better with the previous two than the other.  Then again, why not buck my usual trend and include four photographs?

Different bridge, different season, but isn’t it pretty?

I’ve driven by this bridge many times on trips to Vermont.   It is in West Arlington.  I can give a credit for this one:  John H. Knox of Vermont Four Seasons Photography.  I do like to give credit where credit is due.

So this is my silly post for today.  Heavy on pictures, light on words.  Happy Wednesday, everyone.

 

Stop Whining and Blog!

First, the answer to yesterday’s trivia question is, “Nobody’s perfect.”  Didactic sorts (you know who you are) will point out that these word are not being spoken at the exact moment of that photo, but those are the words that are most apropos to me.  That being said, what about today’s blog post?  Oh dear.

I am having the most dreadful time lately.  I feel as if I am dragging myself through each day.  As soon as I typed that, I said to myself, “Don’t put that! That’s just whining!  Stop whining!”  It cannot be denied that I almost always have enough energy to whine about something.  That fact should prove to me that I have enough energy for other things, if only I would consent to exert it.  So here I am typing, and while I am not exactly dragging each word out of my recalcitrant brain, things are not flowing freely.  What, I ask, is a blogger to do?  No, really, I’m asking.  What should I do?  Anybody?  Bueller?

When in doubt, look for a picture.  After some moments of indecision, I decided on this one:

Pretty cool old building, isn’t it?

This is the old Frankfort Town Hall, in Frankfort, NY, which, for non-local readers, is close to Herkimer.  In fact, when Steven and I were looking for a house, we looked at several in Frankfort.  It is a nice little village, home of the Friendly Bake Shop, the Locavore, the Knight Spot, and other local businesses well worthy of Mohawk Valley Girl’s notice.  Alas, this building stands empty now.

I got the picture from The Mohawk Valley Through the Lens, a Facebook page I follow.   There are lot of swell pictures there.  I picked this one, because I have actually seen the building.  Looking through other photos on the page, I found another of a place I’ve been:

They’ll probably have some swell bands here this summer.

This is the Herkimer Marina near Gems Along the Mohawk and the Waterfront Grille, two of my favorite places.  I hope to go on an Erie Canal Cruise this summer.  I will write a blog post about it if I do.

I see now that I am over 300 words, a quite respectable number for a Wednesday, Wuss-out or not.  Additionally, I have to leave soon for rehearsal for Who Shot JS? my latest murder mystery (which I believe I have mentioned once or twice).  I hope to see you all on Thursday, which may or may not be of the Non-Sequitur variety.

 

Mid-week Moniker?

As I was writing one of my articles for Mohawk Valley Living magazine, I referred to myself as “Mohawk Valley Girl, lover of local.”  I think that is a fine moniker.  Additionally, I think “moniker” is a good word.

Are you sensing a Wuss-out Wednesday here?  I was thinking more along the lines of Mid-week Middle-aged Musings, which I have not had in a while.  The point is, I’m not feeling well.  I’m afraid it is that stomach bug I hear is going around.  Well, I won’t gross you out with my symptoms (unless you piss me off, but you wouldn’t do that, would you?).

Thinking of my love of local, though, I am making a few plans for the weekend.  Friday, Steven and I hope to go to Heidelberg Bakery for breakfast.  We will purchase a couple of loaves of their bread to bring to Easter dinner at my parents’ house.  It is our usual contribution to the feast.  Later on, we may get together with my sister, Cheryl, for further adventures.  She recently discovered a new antique shop.  Of course I mean new to us.  I did not mean to be oxymoronic with “new antique”  (my computer is underlining “oxymoronic,” but if “moronic” is a word and “oxymoron” is a word, why not “oxymoronic”?  I ask you).

I plan to run Friday, Saturday and Sunday, having, you guessed it, taken yesterday, today and tomorrow off (too busy AND flu bug, but I’m sure I’ll feel better by Friday).  Perhaps it will be the start of a streak.  I’ll see how many days in a row I can run.  I am, of course, preparing for the Utica Boilermaker 15K, a premier road race and marvelous local event.  I may do some other community runs this summer.

I will also attempt to write more blog posts of interest.  More interesting than my abdominal ills and what I like to call myself?  We can hope!  Happy Wednesday, everyone.

 

Picture Me Not Making a Blog Post

One of the finest casts ever to grace the Ilion Little Theatre stage.

When your brain fails, look for a picture to post.

Hmmm…  What kind of a Freudian slip do you suppose made me first type “ficture”?  Would that be a “fictional picture” or perhaps a combination of “fail” and “picture”?  That’s it!  I failed to come up with a blog post, so I looked for a picture!  These things are really very simple, when you get right down to it.

In any case, the above picture is from Leading Ladies, the play I had the delightful experience of directing for Ilion Little Theatre last spring.  I would love to work with any and all of those people again.

I’m the one with the really short hair.

This is a backstage selfie, done with a selfie stick (don’t judge).  This one includes me and the backstage crew.  It was a month after I participated in a St. Baldrick’s Day fundraiser.  I miss my short ‘do.  I thought it was sophisticated (or do I flatter myself?).

 

And in this one, I seem to be getting what some people feel I richly deserve.

I don’t have another shot of the Leading Ladies cast, so I will include this one of the Rubbed Our at Ruby’s gang (I use the term advisedly).

I guess I’m going to call this a Wordless Wednesday post, which I understand is a thing.  It has a nicer ring to it than Wuss-out Wednesday, which some may feel is more accurate.  Then again, who am I to judge?  Happy Wednesday, everyone.

 

Can You Dig It?

Well, it is Wuss-out Wednesday today.  I got the day off work due to Winter Storm Stella (I like “winter storm” better than “nor’easter”; it makes me feel like I’m under 70 and I still have all my teeth) (was that a dreadful thing to say?  There is nothing wrong with being over 70 and toothless; I may be there myself one day) (but this is not that day).

Where was I?  Ah yes, telling you a little about my day.  The best part was going back to bed after I got up and found out all shifts were cancelled at my place of employment.  The worst part was spending over two and a half hours shoveling the driveway. However, even that had its moments.

I wanted to take some “before” pictures for this blog.  When the extent of the task became apparent, I abandoned the Tablet and just started digging.  For another reason, I was afraid the sheer whiteness of the view would make it harder to see where the snow ended.  I could barely see where the snow ended, and I was right there.

Our neighbor, who owns half the two car garage and has driveway rights, had snow-blowed a path from his half of the garage (where he keeps his snowblower) to the sidewalk.  That definitely helped, because the rest of the driveway was quite impassible.  I think he also blew out the very end of our driveway, because although it was completely filled in by the plow, it did not look as deep as other areas.  We dug and dug. I tried to keep my spirits up.

“We are bad-hyphen-ass,” I assured Steven.  Many things become more bearable if you can feel that you are bad-ass when you do them.  I paused to admire the bare trees against the grey sky.  No, I did not make it back outside to take a picture of those.  Sorry.

I sang, “High Hopes,” you know, with the verse about that little old ant who thinks he can move a rubber tree plant.  I tried to put new words and make the song about us, but I could not think of a word for “old farts” and a word for “snowbank” that rhymed.

“How you doing, honey?  How you feeling?”  I kept asking Steven.  This was not just me being silly.  People have heart attacks while shoveling snow all the time, and my husband is not a young man.  He also does not lead the healthiest of lifestyles, but perhaps I can help him improve on that.

At one point, the neighbor kids were out playing.  The boy did a cannonball off his deck into the snow.

“I wanted to do that!” I said.  Unfortunately, I did no such thing.  As we shoveled, my feet and hands were becoming more and more cold.

Finally we decided that good enough was good enough.  Both vehicles are clear enough to move, with enough space to make it to the road.  It ain’t beautiful, but it’ll do.  I hit the showers.

And almost cried when the warm water hit my toes! My thighs, which were bright red, stung like hell as well.  What a dreadful feeling!  It is good we did not take any longer than we did with our shoveling.  I do not need to lose any toes to frostbite; I need them to count to twenty!