Category Archives: On Writing

Reprise

The act of putting pen to paper encourages pause for thought, this in turn makes us think more deeply about life, which helps us regain our equilibrium. ~Norbet Platt

In July I came within inches of sacrificing my skull in order to save my MacBook. But when it comes to MacBook vs. Concrete, concrete always wins. Now fast forward to the following days, weeks and months where it felt like I had lost all hope in anything and everything. To describe the feeling of not being comfortable enough to write and not have the tools that I personally need to write is something like having each of your fingers broken. Slowly and methodically. Without one it’s like, ‘Eh, I’ve got another thumb’ and then going down the line it’s suddenly like your pinky finger is the greatest thing ever and if it ever gets fixed you’ll coddle that little pinky and buy it presents. And a giant ass cocktail ring.

So that’s what happened in JULY. And I spent all of those months without a laptop of my own. Which is Total First World Problems, playing the world’s tiniest violin but it’s my baby. My comfort. It’s my mac & cheese and fried chicken. And without my laptop I was without my writing groove. I tried. I really did. But never found that comfy spot. I would write and everything would feel off, the words went on the page but it didn’t feel good to put it out.

I want to feel good not just about my writing but about my space and my mojo. I have long professed that my ability to write isn’t without it’s glaring irregularities and mistakes and, oh, those superfluous commas. But there’s something about the tapping of the keys with the ‘Write on, Writer’ playlist on in the background. Now I have a new laptop and it was better than Christmas Day. It was my birthday, Christmas and Election Day all rolled into one which is pretty much my orgasm of a day. I don’t know how you feel about watching electoral returns on a CNN magic green screen but dude, it totally makes me hot.

With my laptop will also come three CF cards full of photos. Photos in RAW. Which means that I’m going to spend the next five months posting photos of the last five months. There are photos I still have from Denver and BlogHer. Photos of people who have since had like six kids and of a baby who was two months old at the time her photo was taken and just yesterday graduated from high school.

I’m about to inundate you with my narcissism and I’m so excited! Aren’t you?

Also posted in On Happiness | 1 Comment

Someone needs balance. Or a massage.

Don’t let your mind bully your body into believing it must carry the burden of its worries.” ~Astrid Alauda

There are two new posts up on Poliogue right now – Of Pomp and Circumstance and Mr. Obama Goes to Schenectady. I feel all fancy and on top of my shit when I’m able to get something up over there without neglecting people who really could give two shits as to who their congress-person is sitting with during the State of the Union. I’m having an equilibrium issue. Not just online but in life. Everything feels out of whack and if I move just too inches to one side everything on the other end will just fall over with a resounding thud.

Sometimes I find myself so overwhelmed that I don’t eat and I pray for a bout of mania. Then there are the days when it’s all too much, too soon and instead of saying, Go get ‘em, Tiger! I think fuck this and stay in bed with Wii on my Netflix. I mean Netflix on my Wii. See? I can’t even get that right.

I leave for Nashville in the morning where I will speaking about writing and how I do it and why I do it but I feel like I’m not the person who should be up there. But that is a processing – my personal processing – issue and not yet one to air for all to see.

So I’m stressed. I have all of these ideas at the top of my head waiting to burst out from everywhere. I can feel it all straining agains my eyes and my fingers because they’re all ready, ready, ready and I cannot bring myself or stop for a few minutes to let them out. Let’s just say that my brain is all Pandora’s box up in there.

Nashville. Tomorrow. More. Tomorrow. Now, there there brain. Take a breather.

Also posted in Blogology, That's Life | Comments closed

The Art of Political Dialogue

“Don’t ask yourself what the world needs; ask yourself what makes you come alive.  And then go and do that.  Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.”  ~Attributed to Howard Thurman

I just finished taking a quiz from the November 2009 issue of O Magazine. I found it laying on my mother’s bed and what drew me to it was a bold “Who Are You Meant to Be?’ on the cover. I flipped to the required page and then perused the section stopping at the quiz of the same name. The instructions involved a bubble test and excel at the bubble test. The answers ranged from Never to Always when thinking of reaction to certain situation. “Read each of the following statements and ask yourself how true it is”. Easy enough. As it turns out I am “Striving to Be Creative” as well as “Striving to Be Recognized”. It was suggested that I am an artist and achiever. I am an original and I know it. I’m ambitious, competitive and hardworking. I should write and I should be a politician.

I often use magazines to find out the obvious.

***

Way back during my trip to Houston I confessed to Susan and Maggie that I wanted to write more about politics. I’ve always wanted to write more about politics but I thought that people would find it silly. So to say it out loud was a big deal. It seems that I also need approval but there was no quiz about that. They both gave the thumbs up and said, “Duh, silly”. There was also some talk of how I wanted for politicians to use social media more effectively. To supplement but not necessarily supplant.

Quick digression because I’m smiling to myself right now: Supplement vs. supplant was a major part in the American Recovery and Reinvestment act with regard to how states could use Title I funds. I walked around for months with those two words written on an index card tucked neatly in my back pocket. But supplement and not supplant is what I think that politicians should do when it comes to using social media. I recently spoke with a member of congress whom I adore about his use of Twitter. I told him that I love that he has a presence there and he informed that he hated it. He feared that ‘our children’ were going to grow up without feeling a handshake and rely too much on computers as their form of communication. He missed the old days of going door to door and worried that we were moving to far from that. I couldn’t help but agree. But I do believe that using things like Facebook and Twitter can also assist the constituent/representative relationship. It’s another way for those who so frequently feel disconnected from what is going on within a Capital (or Capitol) or inside the Beltway to feel a bit more connected. It’s a new and different way to engage with those who are being represented but in no way should replace the art of doing a door-to-door on a Saturday morning. Never forgetting that people genuinely appreciate the latter.

***

Over the almost five years that I have had this site I have debated how and when to write about politics. I don’t want to bore people to death while regaling you all with tales of bicameral systems and voting (democracy is so boring). Then again if you really enjoy something, find yourself truly passionate about a subject,  you write about it. The goal here is not to shove my political agenda and beliefs down your throat. The goal is just to engage and discuss and for me to do something I enjoy. We all as individuals need to make up our own minds when it comes to politics and our feelings towards what goes on in this country what I want to do is make it easier to have dinner party conversation on the economy or who is running or why midterm elections bring out the worst in politicians but very little from the electorate.

If you look at the top there’s a tab that says ‘Poliogue’ which is a word I made up meaning The Art of Political Dialogue. I don’t expect for people to be rabid C-SPAN fans and blubber when Steny Hoyer utters a simple hello. I would like for people to feel more engaged this election year and (to infinity) and beyond. I promise not to bore you to death or be all inside baseball and will continue to discuss what happens in this country with an air of humor and storytelling and not long winded and regurgitated polling courtesy of the AP. So join me. Please? It won’t hurt. Promise.

(You can follow here http://twitter.com/poliogue or tell me what you want to hear about here Poliogue@gmail.com)

Also posted in Life List, Poliogue | Comments closed

Aha!

The act of putting pen to paper encourages pause for thought, this in turn makes us think more deeply about life, which helps us regain our equilibrium.  ~Norbet Platt

Let’s face it; I’m lazy. But I like to say indolent because either someone doesn’t know what it means or they’re so mesmerized by my use of a GRE word to care that I recently ran out of silverware and only did the dishes once I ran out of plasticware. See? Lazy. This is isn’t about my laziness. Though epic it’s a different type of ho-hum behavior that brings me to you today. I guess you could say that I am a waiter. Not in the apron wearing, how would you like that cooked? sense but in the I’ll wait for something to happen to me sense. It seems that I’ve turned from go! go after what you want to eh, I’ll just wait for it to come to me. Perhaps that works for others but I’ve found that my lackadaisical undertaking of life has put me in a perpetual funk. Trust me, it’s just funk, a bout of ennui perhaps but not a full blown moment of depression. Though my God enough of these ‘eh, whatever. Let’s go back to bed moments’ happen and suddenly I’m crying in my therapists office wondering whatever went wrong.

Back to the issue at hand: On Friday something awful happened. No one died, everyone is fine. It was an awfulness that can only really be explained and understood if I were to describe background, the players and give you my infamous wild gesticulating and inflection. Otherwise the story is lost on you because you weren’t there. And that’s fine because it isn’t want actually occurred that counts but how it made me feel. There was a brief moment during the dreaded event where I dug my nails into the fleshiest part of my forearm. I pressed harder hoping that I would be able to disappear from my location. I turned my shoulders inward making my body more concave and closed my eyes. Tight. It was the only way to remove myself from the situation, I suppose. Or maybe the natural reaction to an unnatural situation is to want to run. I couldn’t run though so I just sat there and waited it out and then left with two others. And on the way home we rehashed, had a moment of silence to think about what had happened, then went in on how it could have been different. I told my mother what happened on Saturday afternoon where she cringed right along with me. A mirror image if you’ve ever seen us together. She took me shopping and I found the perfect empire waist frock for a dinner next month. Problem solved, right? Wrong.

Though kind of because oh my God, I’m going to look so cute.

Friday was my Aha! moment. And selfishly so because what happened wasn’t about me but it did put everything that I have held dear for so many years, into perspective. I am this person with ideas and stories to tell but I’ve struggled with how to tell these stories because it’s not about the players but my feelings after the playing is done. Without giving away the ending – the one that has yet to be written but has been lived – I believe very strongly in something. To my core. And with a fiery passion. It’s the story that I – finally – want to tell. We all do what we do for a reason. We live our lives with a sense of purpose for greater good because I do believe in my heart of hearts that we want to do good things. We take different approaches of course but we all want to get to that place of Good. On Friday something I have always believed in but have a hard time articulating quite literally fell into my lap. In sum – so yeah, I’m giving you part of the ending – there are the minor few everywhere who become more notorious than those who are just trying to help. I want to tell the story of my encounters with those who aren’t famous. The regular old people that are passionate about the same thing I am passionate about.

On Friday I started that story.

Also posted in Life List | 4 Comments