Category: learning

Taking the Challenge

Blogging friend and frequent commenter SinPantalones has challenged her readers to answer ten of her personally handcrafted questions.

Then, once answered, we are further challenged to write ten of our own and present them to our readers to do the same.

Sort of one them thar internet meme things, I think.

Anyhoo, I’m easily entertained by such things, and so, I officially take the challenge

Here we go:

1) Breakfast sausage: Patties or links?

Oh patties, hands down. I may be in the minority on this. I sort of hate the skin thing that links are wrapped in. I know it used to be animal intestine, but now it’s something weird that I can’t quite digest. Plus, with patties, your odds of a fully cooked sausage are much higher. I can’t tell you how much I hate biting into a link sausage and finding it uncooked in the middle. Bleeecky.

2) I hate to do this to you, but I’m going to resort to the age-old Desert Island question. Which three LPs/CDs/musical collections and which three books would you like to have with you if you were stranded on an unpopulated desert island?

Okay, this is a tough one. Three records: The Mavericks “Music for all Occasions, Alison Krauss & Union Station “I’ve Got That Old Feeling” and probably the George Strait box set.

As for books…”Lonesome Dove” by Larry McMurtry, “Moby Dick” by Herman Mellville (because hell, I’ll have some time on my hands and a long book might be helpful) and maybe “The Sun Also Rises” by Hemingway.

3) Toilet paper: Over or under?

Over. Absolutely over. I’m very, very firm about this.

4) If you could wish any one celebrity completely and utterly out of existence–POOF!– who would it be?

I was going to say Heidi Montag, but she’s not really a celebrity and her 15 minutes are up soon.

So I’m going with Tom Cruise. I’m sure I don’t have to explain why.

5) As regards dating/attraction, what are your three biggest dealbreakers? What three qualities/attributes/characteristics can you simply not stomach?

Hmm, this is a tough one. Over the years I’ve learned a lot about how every person has something that is intriguing. Yes, I said everyone.

So turn offs have to be pretty serious. I guess going back over my sketchy dating past, I’d have to say anyone verbally and/or physically abusive is a no go. An alcoholic and/or recreational drug user is also a no way. And finally, someone who is unwilling to put me and our relationship as top priority.

That last one is a big deal for me.

6) What is your favorite television commercial and why?

My bologna has a first name, it’s O-s-c-a-r…

Cute, catchy and makes bologna sound appetizing!

7) What is your comfort food?

Oh so hard to pick just one. Probably Velveeta cheese chile con queso over fresh corn chips.

8) It’s 1979 and you are a heterosexual man. (Or a homosexual woman, actually. Either one. You choose.) You can have a steamy one-night stand with Linda Ronstadt, Stevie Nicks, Tina Turner, or Olivia Newton John. Which one?

Ooooh, tough call between Stevie and Tina. I think Tina would scare me so bad (but in a real nice way) that I’d have trouble stepping *up* to the challenge, so to speak.

Steve is probably a little freaky. Ok, I’ll go Stevie.

9) When you were eight years old, what did you want to be when you grew up? Or was that even something you were thinking about at the time?

Weirdly, I used to play that I owned my own business when I was a kid. My folks had this huge adding machine that I used as a cash register and I made up these invoices with carbon paper between the pages.

I cringe now thinking on it, but it’s true. I played at being a business lady.

Strange ass kid. Where were my dreams of being a superstar?! A model?! An actress!? A ballerina? Nope, Little Miss Practicality….

10) If you could wave a magic wand and change one thing about your physical appearance, what would it be?

My genetic disposition to a lower tummy. No matter how much weight I lose, no matter how skinny the women in my family get, there is always that belly out there.

Ever since I was a little kid, I yearned for a flat tummy. I’ve never in my life had it.

______________

Ok, on that low self esteem note…here’s my ten questions.

I challenge my readers to answer on their blog and post a link in the comments. I look forward to reading your replies!!

1) What is your favorite fast food place, and why? Any answers of “oh, I never eat fast food” will be disqualified.

2) If you could be any one famous person for a week, who would it be and what would you do as that person?

3) Regarding the gas tank in your car, are you one of those “never let it get below half a tank” people, or do you run it down to fumes before getting a fill up?

4) If you could be gifted with either the talent of truly gifted athlete (think Willie Mays, Michael Jordan, Wayne Gretzky) or the intellect of a Nobel Prize winning scientist (think Thomas Edison, Albert Einstein), which would you choose, and why?

5) Slushies come in three flavors: grape, orange and cherry. Which flavor do you choose?

6) Do you play the lottery? If so, how often and have you ever had any luck? If no, why not?

7) Have you ever “borrowed” somebody else’s stuff from the office ‘fridge? (lunch, CoffeMate, yogurt, etc)

8) Speaking of the office. Here’s the scenario: You need to make a copy so you walk up to the copy machine. The readout flashes, “paper jam”. Do you turn around and walk away, or do you try to fix the problem?

9) Who is the most famous person you have ever actually met in person. As in shook their hand or had them speak directly to you or signed an autograph for you personally.

10) After living a full life where you have accomplished all of your goals, you find it is your last day on Earth. You are provided a last meal consisting of whatever food and beverage you choose. What do you order?

Ok class, grab your #2 pencils and let’s get to work! I look forward to reading your answers!

Anyone for a Mojito?

So let’s see, I moved to this odd and fascinating Golden State of California in 1997.

This is now 2010…

So that would make it…let’s see, do the math…carry the one…

Ah yes. Thirteen years that I’ve lived here.

Thirteen. That’s a lucky number!

And you’d think that in thirteen years I would have arrived at the place where I no longer pick hayseeds out of my hair.

You’d think.

But you’d be wrong.

What a yokel I am.

Here’s the latest.

Brace yourself for another backyard adventure.

Today I was out in my side yard. There is this scrubby, invasive, grows too fast tree/bush thing out there that I *hate*.

It’s so unlike me to have vitriol for something that is only a plant. But I do.

So I was out there hacking away at the damn thing because if I don’t stay on top of it, soon it will grow taller than my roof and the neighbors will complain. It tends to invade the nextdoor neighbors yard as well.

Ticks me off.

So I trim the crap out of it.

Here’s how it looks now:

Never fear, oh mighty plant lovers. In a month it will be back at roof height. Gawd I hate that thing!

Anyhoo. After I was done committing gross violence to a bush/tree type a deal, I looked down and saw a few huge weeds. Well…I had my gloves on and the ground was soft, so I started wiggling them durn weeds out by the root.

At one point, I noticed a row of different looking weeds growing from the crack where the outside wall of the house meets concrete.

So I gave them a hearty tug.

Suddenly, all I could smell was this minty odor. I smelled my hands. Leather gloves and mint.

Weird.

So I took a small plant sample inside so I could Google it.

Sure enough. We have mint growing wild in our yard

I have no idea where this came from and I don’t recall mint growing in the yard before. It just, I don’t know, appeared out of nowhere this year.

Look, I’m from New Mexico. I’m used to coaxing things to grow in the yard with a lot of vigor and pleading.

Not here. This sh*t just grows wild! There ya go! Something magical. Didn’t even have to try.

Next up on the list of fruits ripening in my untended backyard:

Figs!

Yes! Love fresh figs.

I’m ready for ’em!

Anyhow. This has been a very big day. Maybe I need a nap.

Oh, and in closing…this for my friend Natalie who likes bird of paradise.

That’s a biggun!

I swear to god that thing blooms all year long. That shouldn’t happen. And yet..it does.

I love having new toys!

Especially photographic type toys.

Yay plastic cameras!

After lusting and longing for a while, I finally broke down and spent some money on a Fuji Instax instant film camera.

It’s like a Polaroid, only a Fuji brand. You know, *coff coff* a financially solvent company?

Anyhow, this fabulous little Instax makes very small instant photographs, they are 2 x 3.25 inches in size.

I LOVE that I have an instant photo camera again!

It hearkens me back to my youth. One Christmas holiday, I got a Polaroid under the tree. Oh what a fabulous present!

I could spend my allowance on buying Polaroid film, which was fairly cheap back then, and then run around snapping photos of whatever I saw with *instant* gratification!

Ok, sure, these days digital cameras provide that instant look at the photo you just took, but there sure is nothing like the sound an instant camera makes after snapping a photo. The motor engages and it shoves out the cloudy photograph. Oh the sweet agony while you wait excitedly for it to develop.

Gah! I love it!

So as I do with every new camera I buy, I take it out of the box, ooh and ah over the features, load up the film or memory disk, and then turn it on and point it at the Feline.

She’s my test model for all new photo and video devices in the house.

Ah, the long suffering Feline….

(scanned photo, not actual size)

And yet, she always manages to strike a pose. I really do think she’s getting better at this job of supermodel.

“I won’t get out of bed for less than two scoops of kibble.”

Such a Diva.

Harumph!

And yet…she sure knows how to work the camera.

As for me, I’m still giddy with the fabulous gadgety goodness of it all!!

Show and Tell Time

Since yesterday was a whirlwind of deadlines and today is a whirlwind of meetings, I thought for the blog today I’d share a bit of what I was working on yesterday.

The deadline was for the Arthouse Co-Op, located in Brooklyn.

I participated in a project they have going called The Fiction Project.

They sent me an 80 page Molskine notebook and challenged me to fill up the pages with stories. My topic for the stories was, “And suddenly…”

Whoo. And I thought this was going to be *so* easy to do. I love to write short stories and flash fiction. What a snap!

Silly me.

It was a fun challenge. Writing the stories wasn’t even the hard part, though it was hard enough. The rough part was in actually putting all the stories into the book in some coherent form. It’s harder than you’d think.

I thought I was done and had a full book of stories, but when I glued it all into a first draft piece, I still had four pages left to fill.

I suppose I could have left those four pages blank, but that seemed like cheating.

So I sat down to dash off something quick.

Dash off something quick. Har, har. Of course, that’s when writer’s block set in.

Anyhow, it took a while, but when I did finally write, what is below what came through.

It’s in need of more editing, but as I ran out of time, I had to just run with it. This is what covered the last four pages of my Moleskine book. For your perusal.

It’s called “And Suddenly…It’s Over”

*****************************

I look at my oldest, most reliable friend and plead silently, “speak to me!”

The blinking eye of the cursor just beats a perfect metronome rhythm back at me, waiting. The whole empty white page, devoid of the text I yearn for so much, mocks me openly.

I love the words, the black squiggles and marks on the page. Words that express how I feel, how I want to feel, how I ought to feel. But the words don’t flow so easily from my veins.

I plead with the empty page to fill up quick, but it never helps. So I take another course and appeal directly to The Muse. She is recalcitrant and obstinate, but I goad her along.

She wakes from her satin sheets, stretches her pale, lovely long arms, and rises.

“Oh, all right,” she concedes after I’ve wooed her with mimosas and caviar.

And so we sit down to write.

I step back, ceding control of my body, my thoughts, and my mind to The Muse. I let her dance. I let her sing. I let her weep if that’s where she wants to go.

I am at her service, totally, completely.

We write tales of the life cycles of the human, of cranky old men with faithful dogs riding in rusted old pickup trucks. We write of lost girls with music in their head and small town girls finding their way in the big city. (editors note, these were the topics of the other stories that filled the book)

Sometimes we write of horses and cows, other times about diamonds and millionaires. We write of everything and nothing. All of it and more.

Today, however, this day when there is nothing I want to do more than write, I can’t manage to coax her to give more than a single paragraph.

This is the worst. We begin the takeoff sequence, the words start to form, but I can’t get wind under my wings. Soon we stutter and the engine fails. We write, but then we don’t get very far before we don’t write anymore.

The cursor blinks. Waiting.

I sit, begging, pleading with her. I try to do it on my own, force the words to come through, but each letter oozes painfully out of me like blood from a fresh, deep wound. It’s not natural like when she does it.

I used to think this was a terminal condition, this writer’s block, and would last forever. Over the years I’ve come to know that the diva inside of me, she of all the ideas and brilliant turns of phrase, will always come back. No matter how firmly she leaves or how far she goes, one day, I know she will return.

And she does.

She’ll always find a way to embody my fingers and my soul because she just can’t resist. The pull toward the joy we feel in those moments when the words flow free is too great. It’s like an addiction, stronger than any drug or drink.

We write because we must write.

And so today, I wait her out. The first paragraph is written and I wait, blinking in time with the cursor.

If I don’t squeeze too hard, if I don’t press her, it will happen.

Magically, it will happen.

So I avert my eyes and pretend it doesn’t matter. I fix a cup of coffee and I read the news and I say in a sighing way, “oh, I guess we’re not going to write today.”

And finally, when I’ve got her fully convinced that it just doesn’t matter, The Muse shows up with a “who me?” look on her face and suddenly has the will to write.

So we take another go at that runway. Faster this time, we let the words start to flow free. Soon, with enough speed and plenty of ideas to fuel our ascent, we break away from the land below and we begin to rise.

The adjectives and adverbs and participles flow smoothly over the wingtips and we soar, together, my fingers are her engine while The Muse is pulling all the levers.

It’s magnificent. Suddenly, we kill off the main character and bank hard to the left. Oh this is a great run. Then a plot twist, some suspense, upward we climb, faster, faster.

And finally, when it feels like my fingers might snap off from the speed and the altitude, the climax of the story arrives and we climb to impossible heights and finally crest that hill.

Once over the apex we begin coasting down the story arc of the glorious dénouement.

Then, the story draws to a close. The engines slow, the fingers wind down, and we touch gently back to down earth, weary but fulfilled.

Flaps come up, we coast to a stop and ease our rig back into the slip.

And suddenly…it’s over.

It is then, with much melancholy, together we type the words…

The End

Seeing myself in a new way

You know, looking at a photograph of myself is always an interesting and somewhat humbling experience.

In a photo, I never quite look the way that I imagine I look.

Where did those lines around the eyes come from? Do my hips really look like that?

Ah well.

The other day, I received an interesting photograph that surely has me pondering some things.

Here, I’ll share the photo with you, my fabulous readers, so you can see what I’m talking about.

It is a fun photo of me driving! Isn’t that neat! A perspective one doesn’t often get.

Look at me…intense expression on my face. Hands firmly at ten and two. Or maybe more like eleven and one, but no matter.

That’s a concentrated and skillful driver, no?

Yup, that photo was kindly mailed to me by the Superior Court of the county where I live.

Wasn’t that sweet?

It appears they are of the belief that I didn’t stop fully before making a right turn at a red light into a very busy intersection.

And so for the luxury of a faboo photo of me behind the wheel, I was charged $500.

I’m *ever* so pleased about that. Tickled pink. And other euphemisms I can’t think of right now to sarcastically convey that I’m not very pleased AT ALL!

Next step: onward to driving school. Yay me.

Have I ever mentioned how much I hate red light cameras? Oh I really hate them.