As you can see, I am making an effort to write every night, even if it is just boring old "this is how my day went" type of stuff. I find myself looking forward to having (making) time to work every night. It's like when I would write in my journal before bed. Yup, just me and the words. It's nice. I tend to work after ML has turned in for the night. He'll wait up for me sometimes if he's working on something or reading. I can't fault him for falling asleep. A man can only stay up so late when he's dragging his ass to the gym at 6:30am. Early Bird/Night Owl. That's us.
I've managed to keep my little nook in order (if I think of it in the same terms as I do my desk at work, it makes more sense to keep it organized. DUH!). I've been using it to write thank you notes, balance my check book, work on my Leadership class project, you know, everything but actual writing. It's OK, though. If I'm in the room, I'm most likely going to end up writing something.
I did a little research on Meetup.com and Craigslist to see if I could find a writing workshop or a group to review work with on a regular basis. I've realized that I'm not quite ready for that yet. Maybe next month. If I put too much pressure on myself or try to do too much at once, I'll go bananas and give up. Again. I do feel hopeful, though. Is that crazy? I feel like I'm getting it back, you know? Like this is a good thing for me and I'm going to be OK, after not being OK for so long. I even bought the Writer's Digest 2007 Writers Yearbook the other day and flipped through it on Saturday night. My plan is to read some of the articles and take a couple of notes, or at least check out some of the websites they mention. Maybe, MAYBE I'll enter a writing contest. maybe.
One last thing:ML helped me hang a magnetic bulletin board over my nook. I've always loved having a bulletin board. It's a mini happy place I can look at when I get stressed or freaked out about something. Current contents include a "d" magnet from my friend H. , a bumper sticker that says "Trust Women," a couple of special cards and an Annie Leibovitz photo of Daniel Day Lewis running through the desert (if you saw the picture, you'd be inspired too!). My favorite "charm" is a quote from one of my writing teachers that I typed up and laminated years ago. It reads: "The only special effect is the heart; the muscle of the heart and how it makes you write." I'm hoping to hang my first rejection letter on that board by the end of the year. We'll see.
Monday, January 08, 2007
Sunday, January 07, 2007
Stories I Tell
Well, I didn't write on Friday because I was a number of sheets to the wind. Saturday I was basically decompressing from Friday and giving myself a break from communications, no phone, no email. Sometimes I just need to not really talk to people and hide, you know how it is. I did meet ML, DL & SF for lunch (I was in desperate need of hot wings) but then it was back into seclusion.
Cat came in from the City today and we just walked around town, shopping and catching up. We ended up meeting Kai, Mr. Doug and their friend/co-worker Andrew for dinner at Bentara. Yummy food + great company = a night of laughter and good times. This one was especially good because the four of us hadn't been together in a long time, and I don't know when we'll all be together again. They are all going to L.A. to work on a show and Douglas is staying out there for the long haul. I hope someone warned Andrew about what it was going to be like to be around the four of us and I hope didn't feel too left out. We can be a tough crowd and by tough I mean out of control, wildy inappropriate and ridiculously funny, if only to ourselves. In short, there's a certain line of decorum and good behavior that Cat, Kai, Doug and I like to race each other to, in order to see who can get cross the fastest and with the sharpest tongue. There's never a sense of "Ooh, I can't say that!" (We got over that by the end of the first three months.) It's more of a "the gloves are off, so watch what you say, because I'm not afraid to run with it." And although it had been awhile, it was clear that the race was on as soon as we sat down for the meal.
Cat and I have been friends, soul sisters really, since we met in college. When she got to grad school and met the boys, we all became close. Talking about that time in our lives, we all agreed that those were some "times." Not good times, not bad times, just...times. The kinds of times you can relive with the other people involved using nothing more than a knowing glance that says "Times." I wasn't actually in school, but I was around the campus enough (Cat and I lived together)that people started to think (a) I was in the program, but they just couldn't figure out which department (2) Cat and I were a couple and/or (iii) Douglas was sleeping with both of us. Interestingly enough, none of the above were true.
By the end of the night we were all telling stories and reminiscing about "times." OK, I was telling stories. A lot of them. It's what I do, sometimes because I'm nervous, sometimes because I like to entertain. Douglas gave me the "You have to write all of these things down. The world needs to hear these things" speech again. He's a good cheerleader that one. Sometimes I think I talk too much. Other times, I think "I'm a storyteller.That's what I do, right?" I come from a family of storytellers. My Dad was great at it. He would get so wrapped up in telling a funny story that sometimes you didn't know how it ended because he had cracked himself up so bad you couldn't understand what he was saying. You would think that would make people mad, not getting to really hear the end of the story, but it was so great to see him crack up that you didn't care how the story ended. My brother is that way too. Sometimes it's hard for me to know if the the stories I tell out loud will transfer to the page. But I guess there's only one way to find out.
Cat came in from the City today and we just walked around town, shopping and catching up. We ended up meeting Kai, Mr. Doug and their friend/co-worker Andrew for dinner at Bentara. Yummy food + great company = a night of laughter and good times. This one was especially good because the four of us hadn't been together in a long time, and I don't know when we'll all be together again. They are all going to L.A. to work on a show and Douglas is staying out there for the long haul. I hope someone warned Andrew about what it was going to be like to be around the four of us and I hope didn't feel too left out. We can be a tough crowd and by tough I mean out of control, wildy inappropriate and ridiculously funny, if only to ourselves. In short, there's a certain line of decorum and good behavior that Cat, Kai, Doug and I like to race each other to, in order to see who can get cross the fastest and with the sharpest tongue. There's never a sense of "Ooh, I can't say that!" (We got over that by the end of the first three months.) It's more of a "the gloves are off, so watch what you say, because I'm not afraid to run with it." And although it had been awhile, it was clear that the race was on as soon as we sat down for the meal.
Cat and I have been friends, soul sisters really, since we met in college. When she got to grad school and met the boys, we all became close. Talking about that time in our lives, we all agreed that those were some "times." Not good times, not bad times, just...times. The kinds of times you can relive with the other people involved using nothing more than a knowing glance that says "Times." I wasn't actually in school, but I was around the campus enough (Cat and I lived together)that people started to think (a) I was in the program, but they just couldn't figure out which department (2) Cat and I were a couple and/or (iii) Douglas was sleeping with both of us. Interestingly enough, none of the above were true.
By the end of the night we were all telling stories and reminiscing about "times." OK, I was telling stories. A lot of them. It's what I do, sometimes because I'm nervous, sometimes because I like to entertain. Douglas gave me the "You have to write all of these things down. The world needs to hear these things" speech again. He's a good cheerleader that one. Sometimes I think I talk too much. Other times, I think "I'm a storyteller.That's what I do, right?" I come from a family of storytellers. My Dad was great at it. He would get so wrapped up in telling a funny story that sometimes you didn't know how it ended because he had cracked himself up so bad you couldn't understand what he was saying. You would think that would make people mad, not getting to really hear the end of the story, but it was so great to see him crack up that you didn't care how the story ended. My brother is that way too. Sometimes it's hard for me to know if the the stories I tell out loud will transfer to the page. But I guess there's only one way to find out.
Thursday, January 04, 2007
On a Roll...Sort of
It's late and I'm tired, but I need to try to write every day. This is the unspoken (but now written here) promise I am making to myself. I'll make allowances for things like being away on vacation (almost never) working at the office past 10pm (iffy at best now that the holidays are over) and the occasional evening of one too many drinks (likely).I'll keep it loose, but I'll try to stick to a schedule...make sense? Good. So, while I wait for cookie batch number three(!) to cool, I figure I'll give it a go. Peanut butter cookies with chocolate chips. I don't eat them, but I love to make them because they are so freaking easy (a cup of sugar, a cup of peanut butter, an egg and a teaspoon of vanilla). ML loves them. So do the folks at the office and since we're having our holiday party tomorrow afternoon, I figured I'd make a bunch. I also made a one and half dozen cupcakes. I think I may have to buy an apron soon. Or a hand mixer. I would like to blame this baking streak on the Amy Sedaris book that I received for Christmas. It's called I Like You: Hospitality Under the Influence and it is as hilarious as it is useful. How did she do that? Truth be told, I've been doing some baking since I saw Paula Deen make the cookies on her show. She calls them "Magical Peanut Butter Cookies" because her health conscious recipe calls for Splenda. This from the woman who will cook bacon in butter? Yeah, I'm not using Splenda...I'm using Domino's sugar. Does that make the cookies less magical? Possibly, but I throw in the chocolate chips to make it more interesting. And magical.
I actually spent the better part of the day writing and editing. Davis needed me to review a handbook, so I did. Thoroughly. I tend to worry when someone hands me something to review and I make a hundred changes. I don't want to hurt any one's feelings, but if I can make something flow better, then I have to go for it. I spent the afternoon on the newsletter, which was a bit of a challenge because I had limited ideas but plenty of space. I think it came out okay. The Boss took a look at it and tweaked accordingly. We make a good team on that sort of thing. I got home at 8:30p, not unusual for a newsletter night. ML was folding the laundry, bless him. I started baking, had some dinner and watched Law&Order: SVU while the sweets were doing their thing. Now I'm here, thinking about being creative, but really just documenting the day. Does it matter? As long as I'm writing, right? I've been writing or thinking about writing all day, and now here I am. Writing. Makes perfectly beautiful sense, doesn't it? I think I'll go read something now. As soon as I check on the cookies.
I actually spent the better part of the day writing and editing. Davis needed me to review a handbook, so I did. Thoroughly. I tend to worry when someone hands me something to review and I make a hundred changes. I don't want to hurt any one's feelings, but if I can make something flow better, then I have to go for it. I spent the afternoon on the newsletter, which was a bit of a challenge because I had limited ideas but plenty of space. I think it came out okay. The Boss took a look at it and tweaked accordingly. We make a good team on that sort of thing. I got home at 8:30p, not unusual for a newsletter night. ML was folding the laundry, bless him. I started baking, had some dinner and watched Law&Order: SVU while the sweets were doing their thing. Now I'm here, thinking about being creative, but really just documenting the day. Does it matter? As long as I'm writing, right? I've been writing or thinking about writing all day, and now here I am. Writing. Makes perfectly beautiful sense, doesn't it? I think I'll go read something now. As soon as I check on the cookies.
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
No Rest for the Weary
I didn't sleep well last night. I was anxious. Probably because I had to go in for a routine test at 8 this morning, but I won't have the results for two weeks. The doc did not seem worried, so I suppose I should just put it out of my head until I hear from her. Easier said than done. Also, my body now must readjust to getting out of bed before 9am. Grrr. It didn't take long for me to be spoiled by Christmas vacation. Sleep in, read the paper, take a nap, shower and dress, hang out, read some more, watch the Law and Order marathon (Jerry Orbach, you are missed). I guess my body and mind really needed it. It was nice to spend some quality time with ML and make up for the long hours I'd been working. I know that being a lady of leisure is probably not what it's cracked up to be, but I had a good time pretending. Of course I didn't do too much writing. That's ok, right? Sure it is. I can be a writer without writing consistently.
Ok, seriously, how do people do it? How do people get up every day, pad over to their computers (or notepads) and produce? FOR A LIVING, I mean. People get paid to write (and just write) all the time, all over the world. Ok, some people write and teach while other people write and proofread or write and babysit. How? I know that the first step is to actually send something out, get eyes on it. I tell ML all the time that he's got to get his stuff out there in the world. People should be listening to his stuff. Why is it always easier for me to be the cheerleader and not the quarterback? What's my problem? I asked Furonda the other day if she thought that I was the kind of person who enjoyed my mediocrity or if I was simply the kind of person who feared excellence. In classic Furonda fashion, she suggested option C. Perhaps I am simply a person who does not know where or how to begin on the path to excellence. In some ways, I think this is true. I think that I wandered off the path when I graduated from UofH (or perhaps that particular path ended). I had no plan, no prospects, nothing. I had accomplished what I had set out to do, what had been expected of me since birth: go to school, get good grades, get a degree. OK, now what? That "now what" turned into 8 years in a job that I probably only enjoyed for five years, and not five years in a row. Don't get me wrong, I learned a lot, made great friends and all that good stuff, but I stayed in the game too long and really started to let it get to me. Anyway, back to what I was saying. There's got to be a way to make this happen. I need a plan or an outline or a mentor or something. If I'm going to get in the game, I think I need a coach who's played. I wonder where I can get one of those?
Ok, seriously, how do people do it? How do people get up every day, pad over to their computers (or notepads) and produce? FOR A LIVING, I mean. People get paid to write (and just write) all the time, all over the world. Ok, some people write and teach while other people write and proofread or write and babysit. How? I know that the first step is to actually send something out, get eyes on it. I tell ML all the time that he's got to get his stuff out there in the world. People should be listening to his stuff. Why is it always easier for me to be the cheerleader and not the quarterback? What's my problem? I asked Furonda the other day if she thought that I was the kind of person who enjoyed my mediocrity or if I was simply the kind of person who feared excellence. In classic Furonda fashion, she suggested option C. Perhaps I am simply a person who does not know where or how to begin on the path to excellence. In some ways, I think this is true. I think that I wandered off the path when I graduated from UofH (or perhaps that particular path ended). I had no plan, no prospects, nothing. I had accomplished what I had set out to do, what had been expected of me since birth: go to school, get good grades, get a degree. OK, now what? That "now what" turned into 8 years in a job that I probably only enjoyed for five years, and not five years in a row. Don't get me wrong, I learned a lot, made great friends and all that good stuff, but I stayed in the game too long and really started to let it get to me. Anyway, back to what I was saying. There's got to be a way to make this happen. I need a plan or an outline or a mentor or something. If I'm going to get in the game, I think I need a coach who's played. I wonder where I can get one of those?
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
Highlight Reel
I'm sure you've had quite enough of top ten lists and best of countdowns, but how can I say hello to 2007 without a proper goodbye to 2006 and all the things that made me laugh, cry and go WTF? Here's my mix for 2006. Some of it's silly, some it's personal, some of it I suddenly remembered while I was sitting here. Indulge me, won't you? (For a complete year in review, you can click on any of the highlighted months in the Way Back When section of the page. That is, if you are so inclined.)
Guilty Pleasure I Cannot Escape (television): No, it's not Grey's Anatomy, it's America's Next Top Model. I know, it's awful, I can't help it. I know none of the girls are going to go on to be the new Kate Moss (who I guess is actually the new Twiggy) or the new Naomi Campbell (don't hit me!). I also know most of them are too old to break into the modeling business (Yes Jade, twenty-six IS too old to be starting out in modeling....just ask TYRA). But dammit, I love these girls for trying and for scratching and clawing all over each other to get that photo shoot with renowned fashion photographer Gilles Bensimon, that cover girl lobotomy, I mean contract (those of you who have seen the "my life as a cover girl" ads knows these girls get, shall we say, toned down in the personality department once they win), and that modeling contract. I also love to watch them act surprised when they receive their makeovers. Did you really think they were going to let you model with that tired weave in your hair? Tyra needs to make at least one of you look like Mia Farrow in Rosemary's Baby, dammit! Do as Tyra says or you will no longer be in the running towards becoming America's Next Top Model.
Pinching Myself Moment of 2006: The Glamour Luncheon. Holy Crap, I still cannot believe that happened to me. If you don't know what I'm talking about, you can read about it here. Crazy.
Best Hug I Got all Year: Sharon Olds. Another totally holy crap moment. I still get teary when I think about it. She is a goddess, don't let anyone tell you differently.
Divine Intervention Moment: I get tickets to my very first game at Yankee Stadium for the same night that my brother and sister have tickets? What are the odds? Well, if you knew my Dad, then you know the odds were definitely in our favor.
Best Live Performance by a Newsman: This one's for Drew. How many men do you know who are so excited to be married that they rush the stage, swipe the mic from the lead singer of the wedding band and rock out to Play that Funky Music? The minute he jumped up on the stage, the flashbulbs starting popping. As you can see, he's got the moves. Clearly he should be behind the anchor desk. Good times. Love ya, Drew!
Guilty Pleasure I Cannot Escape (television): No, it's not Grey's Anatomy, it's America's Next Top Model. I know, it's awful, I can't help it. I know none of the girls are going to go on to be the new Kate Moss (who I guess is actually the new Twiggy) or the new Naomi Campbell (don't hit me!). I also know most of them are too old to break into the modeling business (Yes Jade, twenty-six IS too old to be starting out in modeling....just ask TYRA). But dammit, I love these girls for trying and for scratching and clawing all over each other to get that photo shoot with renowned fashion photographer Gilles Bensimon, that cover girl lobotomy, I mean contract (those of you who have seen the "my life as a cover girl" ads knows these girls get, shall we say, toned down in the personality department once they win), and that modeling contract. I also love to watch them act surprised when they receive their makeovers. Did you really think they were going to let you model with that tired weave in your hair? Tyra needs to make at least one of you look like Mia Farrow in Rosemary's Baby, dammit! Do as Tyra says or you will no longer be in the running towards becoming America's Next Top Model.
Pinching Myself Moment of 2006: The Glamour Luncheon. Holy Crap, I still cannot believe that happened to me. If you don't know what I'm talking about, you can read about it here. Crazy.
Best Hug I Got all Year: Sharon Olds. Another totally holy crap moment. I still get teary when I think about it. She is a goddess, don't let anyone tell you differently.
Divine Intervention Moment: I get tickets to my very first game at Yankee Stadium for the same night that my brother and sister have tickets? What are the odds? Well, if you knew my Dad, then you know the odds were definitely in our favor.
A film so good I paid full price TWICE: Little Miss Sunshine. Brilliant cast (Alan Arkin gets you the minute he walks in the room and Abigail Breslin is adorable without being creepy or cloying), great story and a final act that is slightly reminiscent of Best in Show, only instead of dogs, it's pre-pubescent beauty queens. I haven't laughed that hard at a movie in long time. Who knew Nietzsche could be so funny?
Song that's still stuck in my head: I was going to go with Nelly Furtado's Promiscuous because it has a hypnotic beat that is reminiscent of my high school dances (you know, like Stevie B or TKA). Well, I'm sorry Nelly, but you were ousted by Justin Timberlake. Yes, he brought SexyBack, but that's not what's stuck. It's D**k in a Box , the SNL digital short and not only is it damn funny, it's a good song. It might just be the best slow jam of 2006. Somewhere, Color Me Badd is going, "Are we back?"
Website I'm Obsessed with: FourFour. It's hard to describe how I feel about this one. OK, I'll try. Let's say today was not my best day at work, I was feeling blah. I come home, sit at the computer, go to FourFour, click on the movie of Rich's cats (Winston and Rudy) wrestling and proceed to laugh my ass off. Once I have recovered from said laughing off of ass, I begin to read the comments left by Rich's equally hilarious friends. Again, I am laughing off my ass. My point is, not only is he funny, the people who comment are funny. And no one, NO ONE does a Top Model recap like this guy. It's like he's in my head when I'm watching it. He's dead on every time, from the crying count to the Tyraisms. Brilliant.
Best Way to Make the Most of Insomnia: Bill Bryson travel books. I love the way Bryson writes. I've never taken a huge cross country trip, and I've certainly never driven across Australia, but Bryson has and he writes about it beautifully and with a sense of humor that is a mixture of curmudgeonly disgruntlement and a genuine sense of "what the hell is going on here?" He won't tell you every place is nice and scenic and full of friendly people. In fact, he'll tell you which places are downright boring and should be avoided at all costs. And yet, you never get the sense that he's being mean, just honest and a wee bit cranky. If you haven't read his books, well, go get one as soon as your done with this. It will make you laugh and it will make you want to see the world.
Fairy Godmother Moment: Wicked on Broadway. Seeing my niece's face when we told her she was getting a backstage tour? Priceless.
Best Live Performance by a Live-in Boyfriend: ML at his CD release party. It was a long road, but the new CD, This Strange Place, was finally completed. Kudos to ML for seeing it through and thanks to all who helped make it possible. We celebrated with a CD release at Books & Co. A full house got to hear my man play some balls out rock and roll on the electric guitar backed by his backing band, the Evolving Souls. YEAH!
And finally....
Best Live Performance by a Newsman: This one's for Drew. How many men do you know who are so excited to be married that they rush the stage, swipe the mic from the lead singer of the wedding band and rock out to Play that Funky Music? The minute he jumped up on the stage, the flashbulbs starting popping. As you can see, he's got the moves. Clearly he should be behind the anchor desk. Good times. Love ya, Drew!So, here's to a more kookiness, more laughter and more writing in 2007. A happy and healthy one to you all.
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