Scene: Standing at the kitchen counter with my BFF, John.
Me: (drops something) Shit.
John: (reaches for it) You just wanted to see me bend down. (groans as he stands back up)
Me: Yeah, the sound effects are so sexy.
John: Porn for seniors.
Me: Porn with a soundtrack from the hospital.
John: Now that’s sexy.
Both: Double up laughing.
Okay, maybe you had to be there.
I lasted four days at “3 Words A Day.” I’m giving up because all I managed to get out of it was a headache and a bunch of boring posts. So boring that not even the host of the prompt could be bothered to “like” them. That’s gotta be the reason, right?
Right, well. Now I need some inspiration. Any suggestions on prompts that don’t insist that you commit? I really don’t want to suck at this prompt business.
What was I thinking? There’s no way I can do this without fail for a year – I already have plans to take vacations from the internet this spring and summer. When I’m not relying on someone else to come up with my prompts, I can pre-schedule them. But this… it has the ingredients for failure written all over it.
What to do?
I have entire days when I feel like everything I write is a steaming pile of crap. But you know what makes me feel better? The internet.
Yes, the world wide web. Populated with scads of people who have nothing better to do than argue about the colour of a dress. The bit that really made me laugh though was the hashtag #dressgate. What the fuck?
Seriously, if there’s nothing more exciting going on than the seemingly endless “research” into why a picture sometimes looks blue and black and sometimes white and gold (I’m assuming it’s not just Photoshop, because if it is I’m digging a hole and burying myself in it) then why should I worry about my crappy writing? Nobody but me is likely to notice anyway.
P.S. RIP Leonard Nimoy. A man who lived long, prospered, and was never caught in the wrong coloured dress.
P.P.S Oh come on, it’s true! Smile!
Day two of my attempt to write a for year on the “three words a day” prompt and I’ve already decided not to play by the rules. At least I don’t think it’s by the rules. After yesterday, seeing how many people paid any attention to my post and the fact that if the nice lady who runs the prompt doesn’t even seem to have given me a view, I think it’s probably just as well if I own the job and do my level best to get the most I can out of it.
I just read something on Tumblr here: http://tumblr.tastefullyoffensive.com/post/112048365818/bathroom-poets-photo-via-reddit (what I got out of it was the quote, “We buy things we don’t need, with money we don’t have, to impress people we don’t like.” The quote is attributed to someone but I can’t read it)
and it made me think about the last time I bought something just to impress someone else. It’s not something I’ve done many times in my life – the only occasions on which I have were to impress a narcissist.
So if you’re buying things in order to impress other people, rather than question your motives, look harder at the person you’re trying to impress. Chances are they’re not worth it.
Is anyone else having problems replying to comments in the notification box today? It’s driving me nuts.
The music of an entire generation passes on to the next
and the next
able to tell the next
and the next
generation’s entire score of music
made famous by the first
This post is part of 3 words a day. Check it out here: https://threewordsaday.wordpress.com/2015/02/25/20150225-day-56/
Today’s words are
I’ve never really liked staying anonymous on the internet. I have nothing to hide. My life is an open book, as they say. While I’m not going to advertise my other blog here, nor this one there apart from a mention, I don’t intend to keep it a secret who I am. But like it is when I travel, it’s kinda neat to be off on my own with no one watching over me who I know. Okay, other than the inevitable Mr. Cushman.
So this isn’t really a cloak and dagger deal. It’s more a poncho and a styrofoam sword thing.
The whole point of this blog is to say whatever I feel like saying without worrying about the length nor the perfection of my posts. So what do I say for my first one?
This blog may be irreverent, contain more four-letter words than my “real” blog does (the one with my real name on it) which is how I speak in real life anyway, and it may end up being more opinionated than my regular blog. I suppose in a way I’m saving my followers from myself by having this blog exist. What I will not do here is pretend to be someone I’m not. “Isabella Morgan” is not a real person, but I am. What you see here is me… whoever I am. Make no mistake – I’m a real woman with a real life and real feelings. I have a family and people who care about me – just because I decline to use my real name doesn’t mean I’m not vulnerable. I demand the same respect I give anyone else.
This blog may be odd, it may leave you shaking your head occasionally, but with any luck it will always leave you with a smile on your face and the will to return.
Here we go.