just keep blogging

Let’s keep this goodness going.

This was when we parodied Cats at the Long center for Over the Lege.
  1. My brain is fried. I feel like lava does when it has broken up with someone. You want to explain but you really can’t go back now, can you?
  2. I have to finish writing a stand up comedy routine, of all things. I do not feel very funny today, or even silly. I open my mouth and this strange whiny noise comes out.
  3. I have not worn makeup in many a moon so I found a mascara-laden portrait of myself which I took in a dressing room.
  4. I like when I practice piano but I will go on and on with that and it’s not really constructive the way I do it, like I’m trying to board an enemy ship.
  5. I’m concerned about my hands because they go numb a lot and I don’t know why. I’m trying not to over-do the elderly schtick.
  6. I do miss working the way I used to and I miss the theater.
  7. I miss doing musical improv. I didn’t think it would happen. Maybe I will do some soon. You can do that over the internet and you can even do it with other people. I just haven’t been wild about trying with anyone in particular–and I know that this is really on me.
I’ve been making random font photos in instagram but I think I’m just doing it to be a jerk.
  1. I have a person who is annoying and I have complained about this person before. Apparently they are on facebook again, taking credit where credit is don’t. This should be like that Far Side cartoon. Like acid off a duck’s back?
  2. I have been way too caught up in old mentalities. There are so many of them to choose from. They make me dusty and unfunny. I do not think to speak in funny accents and it wouldn’t occur to me to put on a jaunty hat. I wrote about important things before but I also did so while I was reading far too many news articles. I think coming across as stodgy for the sake of stodge is not very important. No one wants to wade through a lake of word brick. I think I have strong opinions about this.
  3. I sound like an old movie that did not make the list of better podcast options.
  4. I have a new fear of the old vampires. Not the sexy kind either.
  5. If I’m out of the contest that’s all fine. I need to get used to the fact that the thing about a list of things to do is that it has items on it and that one ought to do them.
  6. I’ll just fix my song in a leisurely way and do things that are the most important as the priority. Move toward what will get me paid first. Song contests feel good and you meet deadlines but you are not getting money to do this. Of course, if I did not do all the things that did not give me money, I would die in obscurity and no work would be done at all ever.
  7. have actually been putting things up on the internet more than I used to so there is a small line of credit going into my self-satisfaction pig bank.
  8. I have most assuredly been drinking too much. I am most definitely too old to be doing so. I’ve never even been that much of a drinker. But beer tastes better when you ought to stay home. Hey! That’s on an unlucky number! :O
  9. Gardening is more difficult for some people than for others.
  10. Don’t even ask about dental floss. It’s insane to speak of these matters.
  11. I think this blog right now is meaningless. But I don’t care. I need to start just doing things for myself or I am going to disappear.

Secrets and Songs

Hi it’s me.

(this is not the song the post is about)

Wrote a song for that song contest I have historically done (Song Fight!) called Colorblind. Not just recently. Recently-now I am thinking to finish a song called ‘This is Fine.’ At the moment, I don’t know that they’d have a title like “colorblind or Only I think it is meant to be spelled in the overseas sort of way with what I think of as ‘vacation vowels’—so with the ‘U.’ Like in the improv game Be More British.

Anyway, I did this long ago. Because it was the given title and we were told to. This had to have been sometimes between 2009-2011. I think I was supposed to not have a chorus and sort of meander along or maybe tell a story or I don’t remember. Typically for me at that time, I wrote it about a super secret almost-relationship I had had which was frustrating to me. I wanted to write about this thing that had happened so briefly that nobody in the entire universe even knew about so much so that I often forget it was there. Now, this is decades ago and I was so different.

In songwriting, not even five-ish years ago, I used to be vague but also forthcoming. I wrote in metaphors. But always, I look for signs. Maybe I’ll do this #songcontest I used to do again and maybe I will not. It seems to be a deadline my songwriter clock respects for some reason. The only other way I hustle is for an opening day or money.

I found these old lyrics, looking for paper. These were not the ones I used. These were full of flowery metaphors and obfuscations about what I was going through then. And my songwriter muscles are a bit out of whack after the switching gears into improvising and not sitting and crafting scenes and moods and a musical agenda. But there has to be a balance, right?

Hi again.

This is a photo of something bloggish and relaxing so that your eyes are not bored. I saw it when I had a lunch break from doing something exciting.

Is that cryptic? I’m really sorry. I’ve gotten really burnt out on the internet and social media in general. I could blame a lot of things. The political climate just…everywhere. The general level of discourse. Cyber overcrowding. My basic moodiness. But I’ve been good and fine and happy and stuff. Just normal me. And I’ve been busy and the things I used to complain about here are mostly mischiefmanaged and all that.

I’m not ready to get into specifics. I’m really just kind of feeling “why”ish and lazy about it. I want to do the stuff that might get me paid and/or that promises emotional or experience payoffs that benefit me or people I care for in some way. I don’t want to type into a vacuum. But there was something that this blogging did for me. I’m trying to remember it. Maybe when I do and I can form a sentence about that, I will do more of it. Stay tuna-ed…

#nobodybelievesthis

#untilnextyearthen…

a blog about nothing.

guitar2
1. I was going to write a Facebook note, but decided against it. Remember notes? Notes were cool. I liked notes. I was going to write one and I figured if my Friends got to the bottom of the note, then they will have read the whole thing. I supposed if they got through it without complaining of boredom, then I’d keep writing them. Or maybe I wouldn’t. Who knows.
2. That’s a photo of me in my 20s playing the guitar. Yesterday, it was my birthday. I’m 43 now. Then just right there below is a photo of me now. Pretty freaky!
 img_7011-2
3. I think perhaps I’m tired or something. I’ve really been dragging lately. I’ve decided to try these goofy new supplements. I’m not going to discuss them with the internet, but we’ll see how they go. I put a LOT of work into researching them and they go really well with all my medicine that I am not admitting to taking or saying that I don’t take either. In fact, this paragraph didn’t even happen. I don’t even exist. Just move on to the next thing.
4. I once described this as the Seinfeld of blogs. When I did this, my husband sent me this link which went into vast details about post-modern thought in comedy and how things had evolved. I was not amused and felt like I was being told that my sense of humor was an asshole and that people ten years younger or so than me were a kinder, more intellectual and evolved species of human. This irked me and made me think that I was being told I was some kind of artistic orangutan. I think that my reticence to make everything I write into some kind of a morality play because I don’t WANT to be that ethically superior person dates me. Or maybe it doesn’t.
5. I have a headache.
6. I’m not making excuses.
7. I need a newer computer. Or maybe I just THINK I do. Maybe I can wait. I haven’t decided yet. I think we just THINK we need new things. Maybe it’s a disease.
8. I don’t understand a lot of what has happened in 2016. But I accidentally wrote a book of pretty substantial essays. I don’t want to talk much more about it for fear that I will jinx it though.
9. Why do I want a smart watch? Why? I know I don’t need one. Next I’ll want a chip in my brain, or a flying car. Sigh …..
10. I had coffee too late in the day again. Also, I think my older notes were more intellectual. But I could be wrong about that.
11.There’s no rule saying that items must make sense or that I have to stop at ten.
12. I haven’t turned on chat in any of my apps in thousands of years. I don’t want people to get a hold of me. It seems like going voluntarily to the dentist.
13.You can’t stop at 13. It’s bad luck. I have a house ghost. There’s protocols to follow.
14. I’ve been sneezing a lot today. Maybe this is what my headache is. Or maybe it’s something more dastardly.
15. I still like capitalizing nouns sometimes, and there’s nothing anyone can do about my need to do this precious habit-Thing.

Judger 

I took a coffee picture last Thursday and I was having a real moment with my morning cup… just a real super PASSIONATE and complicated THING that apparently was really tearing me up inside … I think I’ve been having an identity crisis.IMG_0135.JPG “I” reviewed a song contest this past weekend, except that *I* didn’t at all. It was Spintunes, and I went as one of my internet Alter Egos Cherry Pi (@CherryPiXXX). I always wanted her to judge/review–as a kind of lark; but I feel weird about it now.  

It was and has been a real experiment, to see if I could actually do and BE and act like a character with a life/”history” and preferences. And it was easier to be someone else in my body than I imagined it to be- avoiding responsibility for my opinions and squashing down transitory gut feelings. I was far less painstaking and instead allowed the reviews to be messy; visceral and random–drunken and with a ditzy tone of voice.. There basically had to be dancing bears and whipped cream in order to please this woman! 

Going on a second beach trip with family where I was a passenger sleeping on a couch did make it easier to be distractable. The first evening, the “Cherry Pi” character did reviews on the fly–loading up with cocktails and rapidly diminishing spelling skills; her companions  waiting impatiently for Actual Me to join them at the pool. While writing, I avoided right clicking spelling or doing re-read throughs and only kept asking REAL-me would Cherry like this song? or Would she have this opinion? It actually felt disingenuous, because there were a few instances when I did disagree with the “alter ago,” or when I was into an entry more than “I” would have normally been because Cherry gave me a freedom from my own “standards.” She isn’t tied down to a songwriting philosophy that things ought to be any particular way or that she needs to look deeper into “just not digging” something. She likes BS bang and whistle, she’s arbitrary about what turns her on, and there are different things she finds offensive and different musical bandwagons she hops on. For me, there were a couple times I might have ranked higher or criticized less/more but couldn’t because she would never. In one case, Cherry changed her opinion of an entry the day after reviews were due–shed ranked it quite low in fact; but it was too late. So the character is still forming. What I’m learning is that we can’t take any of this too seriously. And it’s happened to real me too; and I went back and read the reviews I wrote under my name the time I judged years ago and I don’t stand by all those decisions I made fully. It’s tough because your opinions change and your tastes evolve. Sometimes they devolve. It’s tricky.

So this has been an interesting game, but not one I’d repeat. I wish @suspiciousden had done the reviews instead.

So yes. Beach, twice in a row. This past weekend, I went with my “immediate” family. I guess you call them that because someone with screaming babies in front of their face looked at that family and maybe said ‘Gee. This family seems more immediate than my needing to write that thank you note …’ even though that is not a very Polite thing to say because you should always write thank you notes even when you are covered in Baby Spooo. Anyway, I don’t have a baby–so what do I know and what excuse do I have? 

So last weekend, it was my brothers and their families so they were all there playing with their little cousins. This time I went with some of my cousins and we are all grown up. They were good about the reviews. They were curious about what I was doing. They wondered just what it was exactly that I DO. I sort of did too. So I have a lot to think of, and do this week–mostly stuff that is distracting me, and hanging over my head. Things I committed to and are still wrapped around my brain pulling me off my path.

I’ll try to update again, In case anyone is reading this. I’m tired now.

FOUR AND TWENTY




A stream of consciousness poem about nursery rhymes and the night and today and skipping dessert and Not liking that much.

xxxxxx

letters were written

today, tonight
one slipped 
out. tried to be smart,
angry. it coughed a lung up,
hiding in the backyard and
lying about it–

hacking squawks.

cigarette shark attack from behind.
(tell the king about it).

the night fills with mosquitos, not birds.
not blue, not even black–
they sneak, first of the year.
i hide my blood-honey
in blue-jeans, not smooth enough for biting. I know it takes a winter to become like stale bread, 
but I still rise, warm and soaked through
my garden is not yet planted.

Birds will pick at old crusts. 
There are always scavengers ready for
the hardness of old loaves.

and there is always, in the spring,
a little honeymoon phase,
all the world sings!
(it is like thinking the oven will always be warm) 
baby birds have no call to think their
wings will not always spread to catch that column. 
the birds. the bread.
the gardens. the pies.
and oh yes, all that honey–
blackbird, fly!

and nip the nose to save the face.


unbelievably sweet, the fruit we bake
in spring. the whole thing
fragile, breathless …
breakable by fall 
or even winter.


Part 2 (actually, I did)

Dear Readers,
I am in the middle of writing a blog post about something or other. I wasn’t done with it. WordPress posted it anyway for about five minutes and 1.7 people might have seen it from Twitter or wherever because I’m on my iPad. Sorry about that. What a great start to our year. Perhaps no one is reading this. Perhaps I should go to sleep. These are the kinds of problems that I had long ago, when the diplodoci roamed the internet. I’ve been on here too long for this silliness.
Ack,
me

ps. tomorrow I will take a photo of something. maybe food.

pps. I will also maybe include a poem because a lot of you started following for that and I feel like I am falsely advertising here with my whining about how I do not blog flah flah wah excuse excuse-itty-poo rather than just write-writing away. Perhaps I will write a nice poem about blogging for an audience, like a circus pony. I am not trying to be sarcastic. I think I have a disease right now where everything I say sounds sarcastic, like Sarcasmiosis (which was not a very creative name for that) or maybe we will call it Splarvus Syndrome, for when you are afflicted with the sarcazzies. Anyway, I’ve started blogging another blog right here now during this edit–which I resolved not to do (even though that was Not one of my resolutions (not that I made any)).