The Daily Post asks us to write about ” Food for the Soul (and the Stomach)”.
I have a love/hate relationship with food. I love it, it hates me. Or so it seems. Conditioned from an early age that it’s of the utmost importance to have an eighteen inch waist (thanks Mom) I’ve been struggling with my waistline since I was a teenager. I would eat all the time if I could. But I can’t. My low metabolism doesn’t do me any favours either. As far as I’m concerned, food bites.
Nah, food for my soul is language. Words. They float through my mind, calorie free and I breathe them back out onto the page. Yes, okay, sometimes they resemble vomit more than the whisper of a breath, but that’s what polishing is for, right?
Tell us about your favorite meal, either to eat or to prepare. Does it just taste great, or does it have other associations? – the daily post
Though I’m also very fond of Japanese, my favourite meal is English. British English, in particular. (You may notice my spelling of the word “favourite.”) I like to prepare it in the form of fiction; the longer it takes to make, the better. For me there’s nothing better than the smorgasbord of a novel, laid out on a vast table of white and just waiting to be devoured. In one sitting, if it’s delicious enough. I strive to be a master chef, though there are a few masters to whose work I shall never live up.
Words satisfy my hunger for knowledge and for passion; they fill the tastebuds of my emotions with joy.
Oh, and wine is good too.
The Daily Post asks: Have you got a code you live by? What are the principles or set of values you actively apply in your life?
You get out of life what you put into it. Effort equals reward, right? Yeah, sometimes. Sometimes we put in a whole lot of effort and get fuck all back. But you live and you learn. It’s by making mistakes that we learn our biggest lessons.
It’s an adage kind of night, obviously.
I need wine.
Sometimes it’s just nice not to walk a line – at least not a straight one.
The Daily Prompt asks: ‘Write about a time you had a Goldilocks experience, exploring different choices and finally arriving at “just right.”’
Exploring choices is all well and good but what about when you have to make a snap decision? It takes seconds to utter a sentence. Before you do, you choose to do it. But what if you are prone to saying the wrong thing?
For some of us it happens once in a blue moon – for others it’s a daily occurrence. One way or another we’ve all been in the situation where the moment something comes out of our mouths we’ve smacked our lips shut wishing we could go back in time and have not said it. Sometimes it’s so bad we wish the ground could swallow us up.
I have to wonder how beyond our control these things are. I think it’s bullshit to say we have no control at all – things don’t just accidentally fall out of our mouths unless we’re chewing and talking at the same time. I think there’s simply something inside us that chooses to ignore our better judgment.
Is it possible to be unaware of what we’re thinking? Seems like a contradiction in terms to me.
The Daily Post asks: If you could be a “fly on the wall” anywhere and at any time in history, where and when would you choose?
I’ve never been big on knowing people’s secrets. I remember the first time I was told a secret that I had to keep – I was about 5 years old (I’m one of those weird people who remembers huge details of their childhood) and I was given the secret to keep of a surprise party. Even then I understood that it would be rotten to tell the person whose party it was – because it would ruin it for them.
With secrets comes responsibility.
I’m not one who needs to know everything. I don’t gossip; I get no pleasure out of learning other people’s misfortunes, nor to I wish to add to them by telling others who have no business knowing about them. Why do we keep secrets? Many if not most of the time it’s because we’re ashamed.
With secrets comes grief.
And then there are the secrets we keep tucked away because they are special to us. Happy, intimate moments we share with loved ones that would lose the element of preciousness were we to tell even one other person.
With secrets comes contentment. I’d never want to ruin that for someone else.
So to be a fly on the wall would be a horrid experience for me. And knowing my luck, I’d meet my end on the back of a fly swatter anyway.
We Built This City –the Daily Post
The Daily Post prompts us to talk about the city we live in. And yes, home is where our family is. But what about the place where our heart resides?
In this life, I have a family. And I wouldn’t leave them for the world. But my heart resides elsewhere. Perhaps it’s my soul. It’s where I believe, somehow, I belong. If I was to trust in the belief in reincarnation, I would say that I don’t belong in the country in which I was born. I’m not “from” here, originally.
I’ve spoken to many many people who feel the same way. People who are inexplicably drawn to countries other than those in which they live or grew up. We dream of these foreign places. When we visit, we feel at home there. Some say we’re crazy, but there are so many… can it be co-incidence?
Are you one of us?
The Daily Post asks, “Vanilla, chocolate, or something else entirely?”
I’m gonna talk about something else entirely. The straight guys in the audience might want to back out slowly now – or not. Maybe you’ll find this interesting.
Semen. Cum. Jizz. Whatever you want to call it. “They” say (you know who “they” are, right? No? Neither do I.) that what a guy eats will determine what his semen tastes like. I learned this way back in high school – it may have even been in a textbook.
It’s the type of thing that I, as a novelist, might have to research. That, along with “How do you get chlamydia and what happens when a man gets it?”, “What’s the earliest I can find out I’m pregnant?” and “How to go about organizing a public orgy,” would all raise eyebrows among my family members if they were to see my search terms on Google. Thank god (or, well, thank Firefox) for private browsing.
So are there 32 flavours of jizz? I do know the basic flavour is the same, but there are subtleties. Some isn’t as acidic. Some burns the throat. Some loads aren’t as horrible to swallow as others. Regardless, it’s always better warm and straight from the source.
Of course it’s all internet research I’m going by. Honest.
The Daily Post prompt today: Places
Alone. On the back of a horse. The animal walks below me and I sway with its movement, watching the earth pass between its ears, listening to the birds in the distant trees and closer, the shuffle and clump of the beast’s feet shushing through the grass that strains toward the revival of the sun.
I’m riding the fence, checking for breakage. For ways the livestock might escape when they’re set out to pasture. It’s been a long winter – spring is in the air with the scent of mud and the sweat of my horse… the pungent tang of my leather saddle.
My face and fingertips are cold, everything else about me is warm. I’m alive.
I Want To Know What Love Is – The Daily Post.
Love is never wanting to die, not because you’re afraid, nor because you want to live, but because those who love you would miss you.
The Daily Post today posed this question:
Tell us about something you would attempt if you were guaranteed not to fail (and tell us why you haven’t tried it yet).
I would knock on Johnny Depp’s front door and when he answered it (dressed only in a white bathrobe) I would ask to come in. He would, of course, say, “Of course,” and I would follow him to his living room where he would prepare us each a glass of absinthe. We would then proceed to discuss how much he would pay me to allow him to play the lead in my novel-turned-movie which would in turn guarantee that I would be the richest woman in Canada. Why?
Because there are nude scenes in my novel. Of course.
Why haven’t I tried this yet? Only because I’m not finished the final edit…
The Daily Prompt today is:
You are receiving an award –- either one that already exists, or a new one created just for you. What would the award be, why are you being honored, and what would you say in your acceptance speech?
*steps up to the podium*
While I’d like to thank all of the people individually who nominated me for the Humble Award, I don’t want to take up your time.
Thank you all for my nothing. It’s more than I deserve.
*steps down to minimal applause*