Blog Flakes and Compulsive Editing


So, my blog’s birthday came and went not too long ago. I didn’t mark its passing because I’ve been a flake about writing, which I’m sure makes orphan kittens cry.

If I believed in New Years resolutions, posting more on the blog again would be a good one. I know this is an issue a lot of writers in general struggle with. There are many tricks of the trade to deal with it. Blogging itself is really a trick to get you to write more. So, what’s trick to make you blog? Where will this trickiness all end?

The tricks to get oneself to wake up in the morning, the tricks to make oneself exercise, the tricks to get oneself out the door on time, conserve gas, eat right, get more done at work, stay organized, stay in touch with people, stay working on art…

I have several drafts of posts in my little WordPress CMS thingie. Keeping drafts might be the key to this. I don’t usually have enough time to write a post from beginning to end or edit to where I’m happy. Often I’m not even sure if it’s a post that ‘works’ for me. Being a draft takes the pressure off a bit. It allows random things so when you sit down to post, really all you have to do is sit down to edit something. That’s certainly not something I always feel like jumping up and doing, and sometimes I want to edit a piece of writing 6,000 times before putting it out there.


Compulsive editing is a big issue I have with longer story writing. I tend to want to reread what I’ve written so far before I go on to write more. If I reread I want to edit. This leads to me spending that time reserved for writing doing edits instead.

To work out compulsive editing I’ve been trying to write before rereads. If it doesn’t fit exactly right because I didn’t remember all of the details of the story so far, or what I decided to name a few characters, that can be worked out during editing time. We’re trying to make writing time for writing. What a concept.


It’s easier to write for me right now since I’m on vacation and doubly since I’m traveling. Many of my distractions are at home and in its place are inspirations as I’m exposed to what I don’t normally see every day. I think people tend to block things out as they get used to them. Most of our life then becomes routine, and thus blocked out. How does one maintain wonder and inspiration as their days are a series of blocks one doesn’t remember independently or distinguish from one another? Sometimes when a week of work goes by, and I try to remember the individual days and what happened, I come up pretty scarce.

It’s important to break your routine as uncomfortable as it is. Life churns and bubbles much more brilliantly even if the resulting boiling chaos can throw us off kilter.

So I’ll do my best to throw the kilter off and battle blog flakes, and let me know if any of you out there have the secret key to this business. I’d be interested to hear how other people deal with these things.

Things I Learned Yesterday


Sometimes I think in the style of Carl Franklin who does a bit on Mondays called “Things I have learned this week.” Some days I don’t need to make a thing up for any comedic reason, as life just sometimes manages to be way more unbelievable than anything I’d dare to make up.

These days are far more educational than I expected.

Since yesterday I have learned…

In the sovereign nation known as Rhode Island there are two acceptable spellings for the word train that have two distinct definitions. I learned this at the Amtrak station waiting for my train as I watched red, digital lettering scroll by…

“All trains are running on or near schedule…”

This, as a Massachusetts native spelling and meaning I am familiar with.

“…please do not enter or exit any moving trians.”

I watched this about twelve times wishing my camera wasn’t packed securely away as it was the sort of failblog submission that would make it to a post.

But I don’t want to be racist in saying that it’s a fail to have culture where trians is an acceptable spelling of train. In Rhode Island culture, when one refers to the act of jumping out of one, you spell it trian. It’s a cultural distinction, since in Rhode Island they have a jumping out of and entering moving trains issue that plagues their population.


I have learned…

The best way to advertise a maker of cell phones and other electronics in New York City is to wear large, black afros even if, especially if, one is a young Caucasian female. Add blue long coats to the ensemble and that just makes me want to buy their technology so much it hurts.

I thought this was weird until I looked online and learned that this is similar to an event last year where they dressed people in blue hair and white button down coats. This is a tried and true technique of advertising apparently, and I guess its working because I’m blogging about it. Now, what product were they advertising exactly?

I have learned…

Don’t stand so close to the grates in New York city or you will be forced to ask the question: “Oh, dear god, what is that SMELL!?” and prey that you never actually get an answer.

I have learned…


That some guy in Brooklyn was way too busy playing with Jills boobs to notice. I’ve heard some funny things walking by people while they’re talking, but this is the first time I’ve been so educated.

There are all kinds of information we learn from this statement:

1. Jill has some amazing super power boobs that can completely hypnotize men. The alternative to this is that this guy has an inability to do things like walk and chew gum, it’s a wonder he remembered to breathe with her boobs present.

2. Something worthwhile was to be noticed. It was worth while and amazing enough that this friend must have been “What!? OMG!! Didn’t you notice…?” even though he was obviously having a great time with Jill nearby. What this worthwhile event was, we can only imagine, but we know it was big, and that friend thought it was bigger than Jill’s boobs.

3. Jill probably didn’t let him play with his boobs. Let’s face it, if he’s the kind of guy to make a statement like that, this guy also may be the type to use hyperbole to make a point, or maybe even stretch the truth. While this is something I have not learned for certain, I greatly suspect that the truth may have been something like “Too busy mentally playing with her boobs from across the room when she wasn’t looking”.


I have learned…

The end of the universe is in New York City, specificly near Times Square in Manhattan. Not only is there a Starbucks across from a Starbucks, there are many Starbucks across from Starbucks. I bet if you mapped the Starbucks, they would make a significant shape of some kind that would tell us more about the order and nature of the universe we live in.

So I googled it. Here is what I learned: In Times Square, there’s one Starbucks for every .04 square miles. There are SIXTY-TWO Starbucks in the Times Square area… I’m talking easy walking distance from each other. They don’t want you to discover the mystery of the pattern so they only will put up to nine on the map at one time.

They’re tricky like that.

And that is what I learned yesterday.

Myst Vanity

On the way to work today I drove behind someone from Rhode Island (at my own peril). They had a vanity plate that said “RIVENT”.

My mind immediately jumps to “Man, that person must really like Myst to have a plate that says Riven on it.”

Then my geek morning addled mind realizes that this person probably thinks that Myst is a misspelling of the stuff that perpetually hangs around Providence, also known as fog.

Then begs to question what this license plate actually was being so vain about. RIVENT… like a Rhode Island vent? Or maybe Rhode Island event?

I’m glad I have this commute every morning to contemplate what is most important in life.

At Fall’s End

I take chances mostly to make sure that I experience life while I can. Carpe diem is a cliche, but routine is a well accepted one I try to cast off from time to time. I try to trust that things which are worth while will come from a night spent with something new or a day driving to a different destination.

I’m not saying I don’t like where I am. I’m not saying I don’t want to move forward either. Right now I’m all for little tweaks and changes after thinking and examination, but I’m not ready for a world turned on its side.

I guess I’m ready for nothing, in both senses. No one is ready for anything really and neither am I. I am also more than ready for nothing earth shattering to happen for awhile. It’s been nice not riding swells and feeling sick, going up and down, constantly having feet slipping out from under you, being lost at sea.

I may be a pirate at heart, but for now I want to sit on my island and drink some rum. Yar.

Maybe I want to be ready for more, but wanting doesn’t make it so. Before I dive in head first, let me stare and try to see through the muddy waters for signs of danger a bit longer before taking a plunge.

I exist, try not to make mountains, but even the mole hills are dangerous. I’ll try not to trip and I’ll see you next fall…

Falling, Failing, and Flailing in a Stream of Conciousness Emptying Into the River of Time

The same things that make many shades of gray also say that failure isn’t an end, it’s a temporary setback, or even better, a new beginning.

You can do it all again. You’ve proven you can go so far, take the risks, push the barriers, and for a second, maybe you even poked through. Take from and value the experience, no matter how bad at the time, the best you can. Let it hit you, let it pass through you, move beyond it.

As we grow up we think of the far off distances that come to us sooner than one would think possible. Hopefully we grow not only in age, but we learn to have minds of our own, how to come to conclusions on our own based not only on outside sources, but our own unique inner voice. Hopefully we find a voice to speak it with. Maybe that voice reaches someone and changes someone’s world for the better.

We have to remember to keep taking, singing, and expressing as you grow without self censorship for both yourself and others. Learn to love yourself. Continue listening to those other voices. Allow them to become clearer as you can discern more subtleties as time goes on. The trained ear hopefully still can learn to hear something new and never cease being inspired.

Know that you turned out fine. No one is one hundred percent, so it’s nonexistent and a non issue. We’ve all been screwed, screwed up ourselves, even other people, and still we somehow survive. Because we survive, we can seek more than to just be the base line. Give living a purpose.

It scares me when definitions become too loose or too solid. The balance of chaos, change, and chance balances precariously with the safe foundation of stability. We look for the right choice knowing there is none. We search for salvation when we just want to be okay and unattainably perfect.

We teach ourselves to be above average with the risk of failing and flailing as often as floating. We want a community to belong to while fostering our uniqueness and independence. Do what you can with what you have time and time again and do your best to stay above the current in the river of time.

We live in a time with virtual community, more and more variation and possibility, as well as pitfalls. For every opportunity to focus there is a easier way to fall. Bounce back. Bounce back. It’s never too late, but never use that as an excuse to put it off forever.

At least part of this has the right idea, and that’s enough to feel some pride that pushes me to keep moving.

Phlirting


Working tech support as a woman I think is mostly the same as for guys with a few very, very obnoxious, notable differences, one of the biggest being:

I get hit on. Yeah, over the phone. Ya, rly.

“So, where are you located? Oh. Really?”
I wish I made it up, cuz you’ve been kinda creepy this whole call.
“Oh, hey, my ex is from New England. I used to go on up in there all the time.”
Orly.
“Ever come down here?”
TWSS.
“No? You should come down here some time.”
Hah… yah… for crying out loud, I’m a voice on the phone!

I’ve been getting this since I started on the phones.

Yesterday I got a super long pause after my customary call ending question, “Is there anything else I can help you with today?” The laughter following the pause wasn’t any more of a comfort. “Well, uh… you COULD but it’s not related to this stuff.” Oh. No. You. Didn’t.

The other day one of the guys got told,

“So you like to hike? You ever hike up here? Oh, yeah, maybe I’ll run into some time.”

For a moment I thought, how sexist of me to assume that the guys didn’t get the creepy flirting stuff.

Then I was told that she had started the call with a thinly veiled threat about how he better help her, and knowing where we were located, and how she could come down here and ask for him if she didn’t get helped.

Yowza. That’s a bit scary. I can’t say that I get yelled at or threatened much. I guess I kind of prefer the awkwardness of phone flirting.

This post’s screen shot is from the Gameboy Advance release of Final Fantasy 6. “I’m tech support, not some 900 number phone operator!”