Oh, my friends! It’s been a FRUSTRATING few days!
1. Situation at work that I can’t talk about, but makes me want to claw the skin off my face. Yep, it’s that FRUSTRATING.
Not anything to do with Director/Assistant Director/Evangeline/Co-Workers…..
2. Allergies giving me grief.
3. Lack of sleep.
4. The Biggie: registering for a stupid class. I need one stinking class to get my stinking Assoc. Degree in Early Childhood Edu. One! Last fall, I tried to get into it and I couldn’t. Before, students needing only one class to graduate were let into a class that was full, or they were allowed to take it by internet/telecourse. Not anymore. Nope, you gotta stand in line for HOURS (literally) to get a chance at a ticket. Seriously?!!!!
Well, that’s just ridiculous. Not only could I not miss that kind of work for a CHANCE, but shuffling people around to maintain ratios for such a ludicrous thing is impractical, difficult, and just out of the question.
I tried tonight to register for fall online. Because I wasn’t in the spring semester, it wouldn’t let me. I’ve contacted a former English teacher who said she’d try to help tomorrow. I also sent an email to the lady in charge of part of the registration process, another former teacher. Hopefully, between the two of them, I will get into this class.
If not, I. Am. Calling. It. Quits. I cannot communicate how much I loathe, despise, abhor and detest school anymore. Largely because of the way everything has changed. Before long, we’ll need a BA to teach in daycare!
So, because of these things, and many more I’m not bothering to mention, I’m taking a few days off. Sorry new followers! Sorry fellow A to Z’ers! Sorry bloggy friends! I just can’t focus right now……I just want to stomp, scream, and punch something…..(btw: I’ve always thought having a punching bag would be fantastic therapy….I could use one right about now!)
I’ll see all of you Saturday or Sunday. If things go better tomorrow, maybe even Friday!
I know I’ve griped about this before, but dang!
I love visiting, and I’ve managed to get around to most of you. The rest, well, hang on. I’m getting there.
The thing is – it takes me forever. Not to visit and comment. To post the comment!
Nearly 90% of the time, I have to click the Post a Comment link a dozen times before it will take me there, and always first by telling me the webpage isn’t available.
Then, I have to save the comment, Leave This Page, and go back to the post again before it will let me post a comment.
And it’s not with blogs containing lots of widgets or long comments. It’s nearly ALWAYS. Does anyone else have this problem on a continuing basis? If so, let me know. I’m going to contact Blogger about it.
Oh, and it’s not just on this computer or simply a recent thing. It’s been for months.
Sorry. I hate to gripe much on here, but I had to get this off my chest.
See this angry gorilla? That’s how I feel right now. Ask me why. Go ahead, ASK ME!!!!!!
I just completed the 50k word count for nano and, since that doesn’t complete the story, I was still writing. I was IN THE FLOW, MAN!
I get to the point when one mc has to share some important and difficult information with the other mc and DANG IT! How did he react? HE GOT MAD! He wasn’t supposed to get mad! What the heck?!!!
Where does he get off thinking he gets to choose how he feels and reacts? I’m the one in charge here, right? RIGHT?!!
Now, the flow is jammed all up, ideas spilling out everywhere like an overflowed toilet and here I am, barefooted, standing in a load of crap without a plunger!
Okay, maybe I’m being a little dramatic, but he’s messing with my flow! Now, how am I supposed to bring it all back together without making it sappy? I HATE sappy. GGGRRRRRrrrrrr! No, wait…WWWaaaaaaa!!!! *sniff* *hiccup* *sniff*
“It’s okay.” *shakey, whispery assertion* “I’ll find a way.” *blowing nose and sweeping up office carnage*
Anyway, I just needed to vent. And maybe a little sympathy. Does this happen to you? Got a hankie?
Ha! You thought I was going to say boots, didn’t ya?
Lately around the blogosphere, I’ve been seeing something that, quite frankly, has me annoyed. Since this is my blog, my space, I figure I can say what I want to. I need to get this off my chest.
All around, I’ve been running into lots of nay-sayers, more or less poo-pooing nano. Their basic line is that all it’s good for is producing lots of drivel, producing quantity without quality, and inducing mindless wannabes to submit all their crappy first drafts under the misguided belief they’re going to get published.
Wow, thanks for the judgmental, unsolicited, stereotyped and clichéd opinion, folks. Didn’t know we writers were that stupid.
I am me. I cannot speak for all the other participants in NaNo. I can only speak for myself. And I’m gonna!
For all sorts of reasons, I’ve always made up stories in my head. I’ve lived in them many times. They provided an alternative to the realities in which I found myself. I used to write some pretty good short stories. They were good enough to earn A’s from teachers who didn’t believe in giving them. They were good enough to be read aloud, not just in my class, but in other classes, even in college. I’m not saying that to boast. I’m saying that to make a point.
I wrote a story once and let someone very close to me read it. It was mocked. It was ridiculed. It was laughed at. Not because it needed tweaking, either. I could have handled constructive criticism. It was a children’s story and they didn’t understand that. They thought I’d written a “babyish” story. The didn’t get the concept of ‘genre’. I didn’t write another word, not one single word, for over ten years. I dried up and died inside.
After my mom died, I wrote her a letter, a poem. And I slowly began writing again.
I was encouraged by a friend, the very first encouragement I’d ever received outside of an English class. It almost frightened me; I was always punished for being successful or even just being good at anything. I was, and still am, afraid of success. I’m great with beginnings and terrible at follow through’s because of it.
Not only did I never receive any encouragement, no one ever cared enough to hold me accountable to anything. I’m the kind of person who needs some form of accountability. A deadline. A timer. Something.
For me, NaNo has been a wonderful tool. And that’s just exactly what it is, a tool. It’s meant to get people to sit up and just do it. Nowhere does it say, “Write 50k words and get your book published!” Nope. It plainly states that a lot of crap will be written. (Sorry, isn’t that what first drafts are?) It also plainly states that it’s largely for people like me, who’ve been afraid of following the dream and need an incentive to get busy with it.
Like me, most nano-ers know they have a long editing road ahead of them. But I’m doing it. And I have a deadline. My word count is posted, so I also have accountability. But it’s discouraging to see the constant references to drivel and quantity and what a waste it all is.
I’m typically a live and let choose kind of person. I’m pretty sure, though, that there is more than just one way to write a book. What works in one story won’t work in another. If there was only one right way to do it, I’d give up reading really quickly-it would be boring to read the same book over and over. I am me. I have to use whatever tools that are most effective for me. I will write in a way that is true to myself. If I wrote like you, I would be you. Not me.
For all the nay-sayers and poo-pooers out there, please allow that people come in all sorts of varieties. You may be driven and organized and very good at making and keeping a schedule and a pace. A real go getter and a self starter. Good for you, and I mean that sincerely. But please, don’t step on the rest of us who need some help getting started or staying the course. It’s just not nice. We’re not bugs.
Stop assuming that what’s being written is just pointless drivel and that we’re so stupid we can’t recognize the difference or that your way is the only way. It’s arrogant. And it makes an ass of you.
Don’t be knocking my tools. Sooner or later, you’re the one that will be feeing the kick. (Karma-it has other names in other places, but it’s still the same thing.)
For the record, sitting on my shelves, taking up space, are many books that were not written during nano, that I paid good money for, and are not even good enough to be considered drivel. They even came with hifalutin reviews, too.
This is how I am feeling about Blogger – last weekend and this one, at least so far. I have so much to do, including taking Roo to the Vet for her check up (turned out it wasn’t last Saturday, it’s this one).
I also need to get around to everyone’s blogs and clean my neglected house. Also, since I took the last two days off from nano, I need to get some serious writing done.
I’m finding, just like last weekend, that when I try to leave a comment, it either won’t let me, or it posts the stupid thing over and over. On someone’s blog last week, it posted one comment FIVE TIMES!!! GGGgggrrrrrrr!
I’m having to copy every comment I make before I click the leave comment button. Ask me how often I remember to copy the comment first? Ask me how many comments I lose? And, isn’t it a rule that your first comment is better than the third or fourth one you go back and try to leave?
Is anyone else having this problem? Or, do the gremlins just love me so much that they give me all their attention exclusively? *** whimper***
ps – I hope no one is offended by this little computer guy. I found him when I first joined facebook and fell in love with him – we just had this amazing instant connection that went deeper than mere everyday commonalities. We have RAGE in common! =P
There is a lot to be said for the modern world we live in. Technology gives us instant access to information, education, recreation, and stranger-friends twenty-four hours a day.
Cell phones connect us to friends and family from anyplace we happen to be. Cable and satellite provide entertainment and news day and night.
Modern medicine and knowledge provide us with defenses against diseases that used to mean certain death, and cures for many others.
Higher education is available to more people than ever before and relocating for job opportunities has become commonplace.
Our modern world is a mobile one. Families move away from each other, leaving behind support systems and familiar neighborhoods. More than ever before, we exist in an anonymous, impersonal, and quite fragile society. Some of this society can be observed quite intimately if one works in a child care center…
Parents have to miss work because they no longer live near grandma or aunty. They dope children with fevers and contagious illnesses because they can’t afford to miss work-for money reasons and because their jobs could very well be on the line. They have no back-up.
A parent loses a job….and there is no one to turn to because they don’t really know their neighbors, especially if they live in an apartment building, and their family is too far away. The same scenario if a parent becomes very ill. Our center has become the grandparent to many families over the past few years….
I put all that out there so I could say this…
I don’t know my neighbors. I do know that the elderly lady that lives next door would probably call the police if a stranger came poking around. That’s what she did when the inspectors and contractors showed up during our pre-purchase days…
And, because of our crazy hours, I couldn’t tell anyone too much about what’s normal and what’s not….
Saturday, while we were all at Scarowinds, Honey got an Amber alert on his phone. A little girl who lives somewhere in my city was reported missing. She’s 10 and is a cancer survivor. She lost part of her hearing and the lower part of a leg because of the disease. But she survived.
Earlier this morning, the alert was cancelled. It has now become a homicide investigation. Apparently, the family moved around a lot. Their last residence was in my childhood hometown. They moved to my adopted city two months ago. Aside from her immediate family, there is no indication that anyone has seen or heard from her for a month.
A month. What about schools? Well, if they moved around a lot, she may not have even been registered in a new school yet. What about neighbors? I’ve lived here almost a year. I barely keep up with anything my neighbors do. They’ve lived at their new place for only two months. Would people really know what was normal or not? Several people weren’t even aware a child lived with them.
Let me state up front that I love the internet and my computer and all the friends that live in the mysterious cyber world. I also believe, strongly, that with all our modern conveniences, we’ve forgotten how to connect with other people, face to face. And we’ve forgotten how vital it can be to have those connections. Those connections could be life saving.
A child is missing, presumed dead. That she exists at all is a surprise to some people. She survived bone cancer. And she’s only ten years old. So young, so strong, and so vulnerable.
Our modern world has some frightening flaws….
For a Monday, today wasn’t too bad. Our new class is a blast, we had a parent tour (a potential new child) that went so well that the mom is, and I quote “ecstatic” about coming to our school and our room. Wow.
I got my first homework turned in….a few days late. Was supposed to be Friday, but, well….you know how it is.
I am incredibly sore from all the painting, climbing, bending, contorting I did while helping Nephew and CG prepare the new house they’re renting. It was really fun. They have a writing spider that’s easily four or five inches long. I’ll post a pic soon.
I tried out a recipe I got from Mary over at One Perfect Bite….the Black Bean Burrito. It was a massive hit. So far, everyone who’s tried it loved it. For me, it’s a big deal. My very first time dealing with cilantro, in any way whatsoever. I came home and cooked it for Nephew and CG (the first go around was for a dinner at work) and they took all the rest home! Honey has some for tomorrow….
So, what’s the jacked up mess? I made Honey a banana pudding. I am a WHIZ at banana puddings. They actually taste better than they look, and they look pretty darn good. (No credit to me, I got the recipe from Medea at work!) Apparently, there’s some sort of quota balance in the universe. If one makes a good meal, the dessert is gonna mess up. Some how. Some way. Yeppers. For the first time since I learned how to make a banana pudding, it came out all wrong.
I ran out of pudding. I ran out of wafers. I had to scrape pudding across the last layer just to barely get it covered. There are gaps! There are dents! There are nekkid edges!!!! Stubborn thing that I am, I said ‘bump it’ and decided to just put the cookies on top and stick it in the fridge anyway. That’s when I ran out of Nilla Wafers!!!!!!! Aaarrrrggggg!
Sorry! I didn’t mean to upset the meal/dessert balance!
It looks jacked up, but it still tastes pretty darn good. Yeah, though it hasn’t had nearly enough time to set, I got a bowl (from the wafer-less end) and ate it while typing this post. For spite. I reckon I need to go to time out for stubbornness and attitude.
Hopefully, tomorrow, I will get around to passing out the awards that have so generously been bestowed upon me. Now that I think about it, I better hurry before people figure out that I have a stubborn little temper!
Have a great Tuesday everyone! And thanks, Mary, for the super recipe!
It’s supposed to be a very productive day. To that end, well, let’s just say I’ve had more productive days…I have accomplished some things, but not nearly enough. What can I say? I’m easily distracted.
While feeling a bit snack-y and munching on some popcorn (and sincerely planning to finish my tasks afterward…) I made the mistake of trolling through the channels on TV. Mistake! I like history and mystery so when I came upon a movie with Johnny Depp about Jack the Ripper, I decided to just record it. And, you know, just watch a little while I finished off my snack. K, the movie was really weird and definitely had it’s own take on the historical evidence. It did offer an intriguing theory…it was like the proverbial train wreck-I couldn’t look away…
After the movie, I decided to Google info about when the documents were unsealed that had been previously locked away by Queen Victoria. I knew it was for 100 years, but I couldn’t remember when I watched the special on TV. Turns out the TV special must have been in 1988, 100 years after the records were sealed. (History/Mystery-not a new thing.) While scrolling down the offerings Google presented me with, I saw a site that was supposed to be a really authentic depository of information and records relating to the White Chapel murders. Turns out, it really is legit. They dispense with the mythology and present data, real and unsubstantiated. And the unsubstantiated parts, they point out the reasons for their lack of acceptance.
What I found most disturbing were the few photos. Not of Mary Kelly, as I am (oh so thankfully) unable to figure out what I’m looking at, and then only briefly, but the mortuary pictures. And the coroner-type person’s report on Mary Kelly’s crime scene. Dang. These were women who, for whatever reason, lived a life of unimaginable degradation, pain, sorrow, and desolation. And, you know, maybe sometimes they even thought that death would bring release, an end to the futility of the reality in which they found themselves. Remember, that was a time in which children worked in factories like disposable machines-cheap assets easily replaced. There was no sympathy for women working the streets. If death was a release for them, it’s manner was most definitely not. The complete disregard for their humanity, the way they were abused, like something carelessly tossed or kicked aside…and the way they were sensationalized…it grieves me to know that we, as humans, have the capacity, not only for such violence, but arrogance. To be able to think, to make it okay in one’s mind to simply take a person, their life, the lives of everyone around them, and just do with it as one pleases…like a frog on a dissection table (I absolutely HATE biology classes!!!!!). What gives anyone the right to subjugate and decree such things on their fellow humans? Bloody Hell!!! (Seriously, no pun intended-it’s my fav swear phrase…) The pictures, while disturbing just because of what they are, bothered me because their dignity was taken away. They were brutalized, then left for public show. These women already sacrificed their dignity and modesty for personal reasons. But, any last shred rightfully theirs just because they were human beings and thus deserved respect at their deaths, was viciously torn from them by the manner in which they were left-on display, as if the monster wanted to demonstrate his assumed superior status over these “less than nothings” he disposed of like so much rubbish.
As I write this, I want to wish the monster suffered horribly before he eventually died of whatever. But I am checked. In truth, we do things like this everyday, with words. Got to go chew on that for a while….dang.
I don’t know if it’s because my allergies are messing with me or what, but it seems to be a dark kind of world today. I know several couples arguing because of money. This morning on the news, I-85 was shut down in both directions and a SWAT team was on the way-some situation that began as a domestic dispute turned into a public threat. Economics. I just read on someone’s blog that their sales were down and they needed that income for living expenses.
I learned of a situation today that affects a friend of mine at work. A very sad situation that could have been prevented in several different ways. A young girl, an underage girl, was at a party, drinking with other underage people. She decided it was time to go home, wouldn’t let anyone have her keys, and got into her car. Her funeral is tomorrow.
Okay, first, who bought the alcohol for underage drinkers? Second, one set of parents actually buys the alcohol for their underage child (according to rumor) but supposedly they don’t let anyone leave…still. Third, was there anyone sober? A designated driver? Did everyone plan to drive home later? Fourth, don’t ask for the keys. Take them. Call a taxi. Call a parent or a sober friend. Now, someone is dead and it could have been many more. What if she had hit another car?
I heard one person (not related to this situation) complain about a friend having their license revoked and having to do jail time and “it was just their first offense!” Sorry, I have no sympathy. It only takes one time to kill innocent people because of your stupidity.
Last year on the news there was a lot of outrage because of a drunk driver who killed a family. It came out that he had had several tickets and arrests because of drunk driving. Lawyers kept getting him out of jail, the charges dropped/reduced, etc. And now a family is gone.
I’m not by any means a perfect person. But come on! There has to be some accountability when it comes to things like this. Parents, what if someone did the same thing you do and bought alcohol for their underage kids and, their kid ended up killing yours? Lawyers, what if the drunk driver you just got off stopped on the way home, picked up some party juice to celebrate, got intoxicated, and hit your family’s car while they were out celebrating? If your kid is drinking and driving, take their keys!!!! Sell their car-obviously they’re not responsible enough to have it!
It’s very tragic what this family is going through right now. I have a mother, grandparents, a beloved uncle, and nieces and nephews in Heaven. I know the devastation of loosing loved ones. This one just seems like such a waste. I wonder if anyone will learn and be changed by it….
>I just don’t understand. I don’t have children of my own but my little brother was practically mine and my nephew was, too. In fact, he will tell you I’m his mom. My point is, what are parents thinking sometimes? For example, there are parents who have this wonderful opportunity to spend time with their children, and they have the means, yet they choose not to. It’s not like they would have to miss work or anything. The opportunity is simply there, whether they take it or not. And usually, it’s not. Then there are other parents who treat their children like a science experiment. Bizarre restrictions on locations of various things and when the child is allowed to speak and oh my gosh, it gets really weird. Aren’t there enough weird people in the world?
Then consider the parents who make excuses for everything their child does, including trying to inflict bodily harm on them, with weapons! Oh, Johnny is just having a bad day. Are you going to say that when he actually stabs/shoots you? After all, he knows where the gun is…? Come on, get a clue!
On the opposite end of the spectrum are the parents who push their children to achieve. Trying to instill some ambition, a sense of pride in work well done, motivating them to try their best is a good thing. But when you hound a very small child, very small, to be the best all the time, to be number one, to do better than everyone else all the time every single day, well….that child is eventually going to explode from all the pressure. They have goals, not of their own choosing, set before them and, in all reality, they are not going to be able to meet them all the time. And failure is apparently not tolerated. Pushing a child to do something that is beyond their capability, for their age, maturity, whatever, is going to backfire and unfortunately, the child is going to be the one to suffer. They’re never going to be good enough and sadly, they will grow up believing that they are the ones setting the measurements for supposed success. They will blame themselves and be eaten up from the inside out with guilt, self hatred, and anger.
Children are gifts, not experiments. They are to be cherished, led, protected, and encouraged. They need boundaries and structure. They need role models who succeed and fail. They need to be allowed to fall down so they can learn how to get up. It benefits them nothing to have everything done for them. Nor do they gain from pressure to perform at impossible and unrealistic levels.
Allow them to fall, get dirty, cry and be children. One day, you may look back and wonder how the hell the person screaming uncontrollably, rotting in jail, lying in a morgue, on the six o clock news, or, perhaps worse, walking around empty inside-replaced your beautiful little baby that you had such high hopes for. Have high hopes. Allow for their hopes, too. Most importantly, show them that you love them simply because of who they are.