Jumping the Shark

Gina's Friday poll today was about whether or not blogging has jumped the shark.

Though my presence in the blogosphere right now is spotty at best, I still love my blog and intend to return to it soon. But I must say that everyone's pretty quiet right now.

I think I just have too many hobbies. Yesterday morning, before I went to work, I was looking at the eyesore that is currently my lawn, and I was thinking that I really must get around to cleaning things up in time for spring. And then I thought, when? Between school, walking and writing, my life is eaten up entirely. Lately I've been having to go to bed at 9:30 or 10, just to secure myself 7.5 hours of sleep and I feel as if I just run from one place to another without ceasing.

I have no idea how writers are supposed to balance their creative drives against a full time job. I seem to be in this sort of all or nothing head space, where I write frantically or not at all. Which is all to say that I'm sorry I haven't been blogging. When I do have time to sqeeze it in, there's nothing to say. I went to work today. I came home and checked the internet to make sure it hadn't exploded while I was away and then I walked 4 miles. I came home and wrote until dinner time, graded papers and then wrote until bed. That is all. I am profoundly boring.

I sometimes think of simply announcing that I'm going on hiatus, but then I'd just break my word, suddenly appearing to announce that my nose has been whistling a lot lately, or some other humiliating tidbit.

Cause that's how I roll.

Holiday! Celebrate!

Actually, very little celebration has been going on.

I was so bone tired on Friday that I was coming down with a cold, so I got in bed at 4:30 and failed to get out again until 6 the next morning. It was much needed rest, the kind that your body just sort of seizes from you when you are too idiotic to take care of it yourself.

Writing is chugging along. I am amazed at how much difference practice makes in how quickly I can compose, though the editing process remains long. Thomas has been letting me read aloud to him, which is a tremendous help, as suddenly I can hear that adverbs have totally run away with me once again, and that I have used the word wound eight times in two paragraphs.

I loaded Thomas's iPod yesterday, so that is good. And I have managed to create two separate libraries in iTunes, so that my precious iPod will not be sullied with prewar Jazz, nor will Thomas have to put up with my love of Morrissey.

Otherwise, life is quiet. I had my hair cut today and it is way, way too short, but time will fix that, I suppose. As it does all things.

Forgive My Silence

I'm writing again.

Which is good. Very good.

So, naturally I'm overtired and prone to fits of crying. (Not so good, but an acceptable trade off).

I hope everyone is well.

Caps Lock Cannot Fully Explain the Extent of My Fangirly Joy

I'm going to SNAPEFEST!

In Mid Sentence

(those who are not five years old may wish to stop reading now)

Much like the famed I had my tonsils out! incident, on New Year's Eve, someone asked what the make believe land on Mr. Roger's Neighborhood was.

I answered that it was the Land of Make Believe.

No, no, everyone said. It was something else.

No, I'm sure! I yelled. That's why Lady Elaine Fairchild is the name of my--

here I gestured wildly in the direction of the house. Apparently the words "dress form" had fallen out of my champagne-addled brain.

--thing!

My friend Jason stared at me in disbelief. Your thing is named Lady Elaine Fairchild?!

Why, yes. Yes, it is.

I Have These Two Things to Say

1. My camera is broken. Annoyingly, the screen remains blank unless you forcefully hold down a mysterious button, and then quickly take a picture. Even then, the pictures are sometimes pixellated beyond recognition. This is irritating when trying to take pictures of actual humans who do not enjoy the process of "Wait--ok, I got it. No, sorry. That one's blank. Ok, trying again. Yes! No. No. Ok, one more time? Thanks guys, sorry, sorry. Got it that time! Yay!"

This accounts for the rather dubious nature of these photos, and the distinct lack of Donnie whose sweater most assuredly warranted archiving. So, sorry everyone.

But this brings me to:

2. Ugly sweaters are funny.





Jason wins, I think. Please note the faux-leather fringe gracing his back.