I wish I were anyways. I need a vacation preferably away from the majority of my family. For obvious reasons I would probably take mom but that’s okay I can live with that. I really wish I had the option of driving because even though I’m not generally claustrophobic is starting to feel like the walls of my house will eventually crush me with malicious intent even. You know you need a vacation when you start to suspect the walls are out to get you. Of course I realize they’re not but that just goes to show you how my brain functions when it’s backed into a corner, that is to say strangely. They are coming to take me away… They’re coming to take me away…
I am a card-carrying introvert. For most of my life people have tried with varying degrees of success to change that. I agree that some of my introverted tendencies are less than desirable. Unlike some people I have met being in large crowds makes me uncomfortable unless I’m with someone I know, even if that someone is just my dog. I do not have a hearing problem so my discomfort is not for the exact reason that people who are hard of hearing sometimes have dislike for crowds. Somewhere in my subconscious I’m afraid that the crowd will somehow swallow me up and I will never see the other side. I also do not contribute to conversations unless I believe I have something significant to add unlike some people in my household who I believe just like to hear themselves talk and don’t actually add anything of remote value to the discussion. So to all you extroverted people who get frustrated with my lack of verbosity when you first meet me do not fear, I have an opinion and if you’re patient you will probably hear it sooner than if you harass me about not talking. I will probably learn more about you than 10 min. of not talking then you will trying to get me to talk unsuccessfully for 20 min.
Note: these are Not my results shown in the picture. I have yet to take that test.
I have heard that if you write three pages of writing in the morning (approximately 750 words) you will find that your mind is less cluttered and it may be easier to focus because your brain is not bouncing around as many unrelated ideas. The original exercise was meant to be done in longhand, with pen and paper. Fortunately for me because my handwriting is worse than chicken scratch and if I actually wrote three pages I would give up before the second paragraph someone decided to create a digital version. 750 words.com you can login using your Facebook account info as well as Yahoo or Google if you prefer. Just make sure that you stick with the one you initially login with because apparently the account verification is completely different for each site. Your 750 words are completely private and the various ways to connect are used only to monitor site statistics. When I first heard of the 750 word exercise I admit I scoffed at it but it is actually helpful . There are even badges that you can earn for instance a picture of a cheetah appears when you reach the 750 mark particularly fast, the criteria for the rest of the badges remains a mystery you find out what milestone you hit when the badge appears. I would like to know what everyone else thinks of this site’s actually pretty simple.
It can be difficult to use speech recognition software. This is especially true since most people in my house seem to think that because I keep my door open most of the time they are automatically issued an invitation to enter. The truth is I keep my door open most of the time because I can’t all when it from a closed position very easily. Sometimes they knock but refuse to wait for permission to enter before they have crossed the threshold. I wonder whether they would respect the kind of light you find outside of a photographer’s darkroom , if the light is on do not enter. I somehow doubt that even that would work, oh well . Good night John boy.
My great grandpa Prophet died when I was 13 so my grandmother (his eldest child) and my great aunt (his youngest child) drove with all of us kids to Arkansas for the funeral. When we got there about seven hours later I was the only one of the kids awake and the first thing I remember after getting into the house was one of my adult cousins asking me if the kids were actually going to be at the funeral, to which my answer was of course yes. I should mention that the great-grandmother I knew growing up was actually my great grandfather’s second wife, she had on adult daughter from a previous marriage when she met my grandfather. Apparently Gail was terribly jealous of his blood related kin. I was told this on the drive there but was not prepared for the extent of the truth. For one Gail proceeded to chastise my grandmother for bringing us to the funeral even though the youngest of us was eight so it wasn’t like we would unknowingly disrupt the proceedings. Gail spent the few days before the funeral tidying up invisible dirt in any room any of us were in as though we were dirty and soiling her mother’s house. This stuff began to get on everyone’s nerves. As if that were not enough she added insult to injury on the day of the funeral when we were getting dressed for the services she took one look at my aunt’s beautiful turquoise dress that she had brought to wear and made a snide remark about its appropriateness presumably because of the color. My aunt doesn’t wear dresses and her father’s only request of her was that she wear a dress to his funeral, He was never a fan of the color black at funerals so the color choice was completely up to her. Gail’s comment had my aunt about spit nails and unfortunately for Gail my cousin Bobby walked in the room just in time to hear it. That was the beginning of the end. That evening, after the funeral after most of the house was asleep I woke up to see a person who might have been my cousin outside of the bedroom which I and the rest of the girls (my sister and my cousin Autumn) unfortunately shared with Gail. Also outside were shadowy figures which might’ve been my mother’s brothers and my great uncle Charlie. I was closest to the window but because of my disability wasn’t able to open it and so my cousin Autumn might have done it instead of me. The person who looked vaguely like my cousin appeared to climb in the window and opened Gail’s suitcase which held all of her wigs and was unwisely in plain sight. What happened after that? Well, let’s just say that sometimes a suitcase might inexplicably become a man-made lake overnight. There was much shrieking the next morning and watching grandma and aunt Mary try for disproving faces was very funny. I am somewhat ashamed to admit that as far as the “official record” goes the blame lies with my great-grandmothers very house broke miniature poodle, to whom I for one apologized profusely to until we left for home.
this story while true has been edited in deference to a readers time. If I were to catalog all of the horrible treatment it would certainly qualify as the longest post I’ve ever written and quite probably the longest post anybody has read.
I will be the first to admit that Stephen King is a talented writer even though I do not care for several things that he’s done, mostly because I’m a chicken and they scare me. I do like The Green Mile very much though I actually wrote a post should you care to read it.That being said I lost a little bit of respect for Mr. King when I read a comment that he made about the Twilight series in which he basically espoused the opinion that Stephanie Meyer, the author, wrote fluff. I like the Twilight books, it was possibly the first series my sister and I agreed on and was also probably one of the few she finished before me, a fact which she is proud of as seen by the epitaph written on the gift tag of my copies of the second and third book which I received a few Christmases ago, “finally a series I finished before you.”
It greatly disturbs me that one writer can so callously dismiss the work of another. Mr. King’s comment (which can be found in its entirety over at my friend’s blog Maggie Madly Writing in her Defense of Twilight post) compared the Twilight series to Harry Potter and cast Twilight in a distinctly unfavorable light. I believe that was unfair, the stories the respective authors tell in both book series are completely different, comparing the two is comparing apples to oranges. I don’t know what kind of problem Stephen King has with Stephanie Meyer but I think you should just get over Stephen. I am sure she put as much effort into getting those books published as you have any of yours, if you can’t respect the writing respect the elbow grease.
I have never been an extreme Beatles fan (that title belongs to my friend Beth who has a blog here on WordPress called In Case Of Fire Use Stairs, the first time I met her at summer camp she had a scrapbook full of Beatles memorabilia that I didn’t know existed) but I think Lennon got that one right too. I never expected to break my legs or to actually have an orthopedic surgeon whose opinion I respect. That is most definitely a nice change. I never expected to have a Golden Retriever and I really didn’t expect to bond so well with a male, that’s what I get for being sexist all this time. Although a few of the surprises have been less than pleasant (we won’t go there) mostly it’s been interesting.What’s next? Just no more broken bones please.
I’m not actually talking about the act of singing, although that is definitely good for you. I’m actually referring to the song Sing. If someone had told me when I was in high school.I would like bands like My Chemical Romance I would have probably laughed in their face, that was more my sister’s thing. It’s amazing how people can change between high school and college. In the current world where it is easy to think that one voice doesn’t matter the song reminds people that revolutions can and do start with a single voice struggling to be heard above the mass of popular opinion. One voice can change the world. When did we forget that?
I periodically write blog post which mention my friend Anthony who died of leukemia when I was 10. I honestly don’t think my heart ever completely mended after he died. I know that it sounds odd to most people but at that point in my life he definitely counted as my best friend. Recently another good friend of mine who knows about Anthony mentioned that if he had survived cancer he would be the same age as my friend, which is to say in his early 40s. Well that got me to thinking about how our relationship might have turned out if he lived. I know the wondering is fruitless because Anthony is still dead and nothing will change that, but in this case I find a peace in contemplating what might have been, for some strange reason it makes his death easier to live with.
Believe it or not this is actually a positive post so nobody need feel obligated to try and cheer me up I’m fine. Loser like me is actually a song off of the TV show Glee (I am a choir geek remember) but it isn’t a cover of someone else’s work it’s actually an original piece written for the show. I’m sure you could probably find it on Pandora if Glee songs regularly show up in one of your channel. The absolute highest praise I can give is that I wish this song had been around when I was in high school I would’ve been singing it every day and to heck with people who said I was off key, though back in the day that didn’t happen as much as it does now.