Sunday, April 27, 2008

1000 Words

I’ve read a series of books in my adulthood in which the main character asserts that he can “write a thousand words on any topic”. This got me to thinking. What do a thousand words look like, a long paragraph or a short article? Is there much difference? I decided to dust off my own rusty writing skills and see what I could do with that self imposed assignment.
I don’t think I could make such a bold assertion. Could I write on “any topic”? I myself will be the first to admit that I don’t know much about much. Unlike my spouse, to whom an assignment like this would probably give fodder for years and years of long paragraphs, or short articles. He can successfully discuss just about anything, with anyone, especially if he knows them well. He is innately a shy guy, whereas I am very extroverted, but with limited discussable topics in my brain file. Where is the justice in that? My husband’s writing skills are pretty nifty too, come to think of it. Maybe we should have a competition. Being competitive, now that I could write about.
Looking back on what I’ve just written, I’ve come to the conclusion that one thousand words is not a long paragraph. As you can see, there are already two paragraphs, and a bit more, here. I think I’ll count the words, just too see where I stand. I seem to averaging about seventeen words per line. That means I need a total of about fifty nine lines! If I leave off the line with only one word in it, that brings me to about seventeen lines at this point. Fifty nine lines definitely make an article. Maybe not such a short one either. A thousand words do begin to seem daunting when you’re talking fifty nine lines.
Then again, even if I could write on any topic, could I make it enjoyable to read? Because in the end, who cares to read even a great topic, if the writing is as dry as dust? I don’t. I would need to be able to enjoy the writing as it went along. But, being an extrovert, I would get even more joy out of knowing that others have read it and gotten, at worst, a chuckle, and at best, an insight into a new point of view that could be life altering.
I might have to do it for the enjoyment of others, because to me, without that aspect, there is little point. I’ve always been the “look at me” type. Maybe that is why I can’t seem to buck up my entrepreneurial spirit. It is too scary to think that others could actually hate what I’ve done. Any of my efforts have always been about the pleasing of others. It has only been in the last decade or so that I have been able to even slightly appreciate anything done solely for my own enjoyment.
Wow, would you look at that? I’ve written a little over half of the assignment already! Admittedly, I’ve not been able to stay exactly on target, but I think that’s ok. Most of it seems to apply, and it is kind of fun to read too. This could really be a great exercise in writing practice, if nothing else. I could use some, heaven knows, if I ever intend to fulfill that life goal I have to write a novel. That is not the total goal, of course, the novel must get published as well, therein illustrating that “look at me” philosophy.
I must say that I do come by this honestly. My dad is just like me and he has taught me well. It’s the whole, “Why do anything unless you intend to get noticed for it?” philosophy on which he has built success in hobbies such as writing, speech making, and acting. Several awards and published works being the proof in his pudding. While I enjoy acting and writing, I cannot add speech making to that list. I still get a knock in my knees and a quiver in my voice whenever speechifying is necessary. Thankfully, it is not often necessary.
I also note that the trait has not ended with me. The need to be the center of attention is apparently passed genetically through the generations. The lucky (?) benefactor of this continuing need in the next generation is my thirteen year old. The younger you are, the stronger the need seems to be. And apparently it doesn’t always come tempered with the need to please others. Maybe that section of the DNA is missing, or maybe I’m just not remembering my own childhood with the most honest of perception.
Well, I feel that I have veered off topic again. It seems I’m blessed with a gift of gab that takes me in some very interesting directions, even when the gab is of the written variety. At least I hope that you have found it interesting. If not, please let me down gently and if I don’t have exactly a thousand words, don’t tell me that either.

Sunday, April 20, 2008

God is No Dummy

When God created man, He must have known that we would be so imperfect. After all, He had all kinds of rules for us to follow that are supposed to save us from ourselves. The Old Testament rules about cloven hooves and all being now mostly obsolete, but the Ten Commandments are so basic and right to the point, He had to have known the kinds of things that would drag us down. My biggie is the whole covet issue. Covet is an old word. One that confused me as a youngster. I knew it wasn't cover(Why would you cover your neighbors goods?), but what did covet mean? The nuns quickly disabused me of the notion that it meant steal. Why repeat that again after "Thou shalt not steal"? I couldn't fathom the stealing of a spouse at the age of 6. What even is a spouse anyway? So, the dictionary defines covet this way: cov·et
1. to desire wrongfully, inordinately, or without due regard for the rights of others: to covet another's property.
2. to wish for, esp. eagerly: He won the prize they all coveted.
–verb (used without object)
3. to have an inordinate or wrongful desire.
OK, that explains the meaning, but definition #2 doesn't seem so bad. I did sort of covet a really cool dragonfly kite a guy had at the park today, but not enough to run up and grab it and run. Are there different levels of covet? I don't think God thinks so. Anyway, back to me and covetting(?). Mostly, what I covet is time. What I mean is the time that others get to spend with the people that I love. I think the proprietary feeling I have for my loved ones is usually healthy, but sometimes, I really don't like those folks that actually get to spend life with the people that are close to me and that I feel I should get to spend more time with. The biggest example I can think of here is my sister and her friend Karen. I have only met Karen a few times, and Margie assures me that I would get along with her very well, but I don't know. Every time I hear of another occasion or even just a regular day, that Karen gets to live with Margie, it kind of digs at me a bit. Now, this is dumb. Margie lives 200 miles away. We talk on the phone and e-mail often and see each other as busy life allows, but how much do I expect? Well, that's the thing, see. It isn't about what I expect, it's about what I want. The truth is, I don't get as much time with my sister and her family as I would like, so I begrudge the time Karen gets.
This is covet. There is really nothing that I can do about it. What, I should tell my sister that she can't have any friends 'cause it makes me jealous? Nope. I hope that these feelings don't make her feel bad. I don't want them to. I guess it just shows how much I love her. As long as I don't punch anybody, we'll all get along just fine. Love you Marg. Anne

Thursday, April 17, 2008

Man in my Life

I thought it might be fun to reminice about the day that I met Jeff. I was in my freshman year of college, yes, all of 18! I had a friend named Laurie, who was in a few of my classes. Through her, I got to know Jon, who was rather an eccentric. I had never actually seen a man in vans and a bandana at the same time before I met him. He seemed very "Fast Times at Ridgemont High". Some could argue that he was not a man, just a boy...anyway, Laurie and Jon had just started dating and the three of us hung around together quite a bit. (Can you say third wheel?) Jon spoke about his friend Jeff often and I was a little interested, but, I must admit to having a small crush on Jon myself. Bad friend, bad! I never acted on it! So, on this night, I was working at Marshall's and had invited Jon to come over and see me there. It was getting late and I had about given up on him, when here he was, with Jeff in tow. I was a little peeved that he hadn't come by himself, so my first thought of Jeff was, "Who's this funny looking guy?" The guys stood around in the towels and sheets section and chatted with me, well Jon and I chatted, Jeff is the quiet type, until he gets to know you, while I worked at straightening things up. After I was done, we all went to my house so I could change and then we went to Country Kitchen. I had a cinnamon roll, Jeff had iced tea (later I learned that was because he was low on funds and tea is continually refillable). I don't even remember what Jon had. That has to be important. I ended that night thinking that Jeff was not funny looking, in fact, he was pretty cute and I was interested in getting to know him better. That took some time, but that is another story....

Wednesday, April 9, 2008

What a Good Day

Today was an unusual day. It was fun and maybe it's unusualness (is that a word?)is what made it that way. I went over to the senior center that Mom works at and filled out an "application" to help her in the Meals on Wheels kitchen on Friday mornings. I met Debbie, the lady in charge, who gave me a tour and invited me to all the free coffee I want. Too bad I can't drink coffee anymore. She showed me all around, tipped me onto the good parking spots, and even threw out a tentative offer for a paying sub position in the future. Thanks to Mom for her hard work, as I know this offer had to be on her merit.
After that, I went to see my dad and collect Margie's cat to take to her in Red Wing. I had a nice chat with Dad, who is stuck at home in his pj's due to swelling from abdominal surgery ("none of my pants fit"). Poor Dad. We then stuffed old fat Polly into his carrier and I drove, with him yowling for the first half hour, to meet Marg in Red Wing.
Once there, we transferred the hefty beast out of the carrier and Margie put him on a leash in the Caribou Coffee parking lot for a quick waddle. Then back into the carrier for a nap, I hope, while Margie and I went for lunch.
We went to a place called Lily's that has charm, but the food didn't impress me today. I ate half a cup of soup and a few chips and we had a nice long talk. Loverly.
I came home via Home Goods, which is not nearly as fun to shop in alone as it is with a mom or a sis, so I ended up buying zip.
Hot dogs and corn for dinner. Time with the kids. Even a short talk via cell to Elizabeth, who is on a bus trip to New York! Overall, a very nice unusual day.
Anne

Monday, April 7, 2008

Blue

Here's a poem that sums up the last few weeks:

BLUE

This is one of those days when everything just seems to have an edge of blue around it.
Nothing out of the ordinary has happened, but I can’t shake the slight sadness that is hanging around.
I guess you could put it off to “hormones” or “emotions” or whatever you want to call it, but I don’t really think it has much to do with any of that.
No, it’s just that cloud of free-floating unhappy that strikes all of us sometimes and today is my day.
Boohoo.


I seem to have hit a small plateau, no wieght lost in the last few days.

Tuesday, April 1, 2008

184


Well, this is what 184 looks like. My pants are a little looser and I had Sylvie pin the back of my blouse with a clothespin to show my shape a little better. My blouses are starting to look silly and huge. I started with some soft food this last weekend and so far, all is going well. I see the doctor today. Anne