Update Oct 28

With the winding down of  October, and the approach of Halloween, I feel I have neglected my posting duties, as a blogger.  Granted, I am still not in the zone, as I have been finding myself still picking up the mighty pen and scratching, what I consider to be, writing.  And then, once I scold myself, I start working on drafts in WP…and then I let them sit there, or erase them, as I, upon review, think “wow, this really sucks!”

To be fair, the rollercoaster of life opened up a new track of late, one with a really scary loop.  I decided that whatever life throws at me, I just sigh, pull on a Teflon bodysuit, and roll with the punches.  Since I cannot possibly control those things I have no power over, I will stay the course and do what I have to.

To that end, I finally decided to give my all to the National Novel Writing Month.  Yup, yours truly, is determined to actually make the effort.  (Pathetically, I had signed up one year, and only got about 3 pages done).  I have a million ideas, and partially written manuscripts.  Treatments, outlines, titles, and even a gleam of a script, have haunted me for years.  So, this is the year I finally make myself face…ah..myself… No excuses. 

the concept is an easy one.  “November marks the beginning of National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo), a project in which thousands of writers around the world work toward completing a 50,000-word novel by November 30th.”  (as per the official WP page).  It is a non-profit organization, that supports writers, and promotes support to writers.  It has created the concept of writing a novel, full out, for one month, to get writers’ wordsmithing muscles in shape.  The focus is not on quality, but quantity.  And you would be surprised on the content that can be created through this method.  So, I am working on an exercise to blog something, every day.

And, as if that wasn’t ambitious enough of an endeavour:  I am also going to start a health/exercise plan.  I have lost my way, not keeping up my craft, but my health as well.  The growing mound of flubber about my midsection is beginning to feel as if it is a living creature.  Some horrific flick, in which I am the host to some symbiotic mass, just hanging around.  Now, don’t get me wrong.  I am not a weightest.  I had battled being overweight before.  The jist of it: I had lost over 65lbs, and was comfortable at a waist size of 28.  The size 34 jeans I have on as I write this.. a reminder that I need to take better care of me.

So, I am taking heed of supporters of my creativity, and my doctor, and going to giv’em.  Now, if I could just get Mr. Str8 to join in the health plan….

And speaking of Mr. Str8….

Last night we went grocery shopping at the market, for our late Thanksgiving dinner.  I love cooking it, and we invited our neighbour Carlie and her family.  As we were loading up our goods at the check-out counter, the sweet older lady behind us, commented on our larger than normal order.  She  asked: “So who is the cook?” 

At the same time we both replied:

Str8: “She does.” (points to me)

Me:”Me…she.” (Nod, roll my eyes, and point to myself)

Lady:”I see some knows about healthy eating.”

Me:”I do..try to get this one to….”  (I wink at Str8)

Later on, at home…

Str8:”I wonder how she knew we were gay.  Oh, wait, she saw you.”  He cracked himself up for about a minute. 

So, a random, quickie.  Task done.  So, trying not to be afraid of what to write, I figure, meh, I ll just put it out there.  I mean, in the questioning of relationships, what is not covered?  At the heart of all we do, (of being alive),  it is all about a relationship.  The relationship with ourselves.  And if we can expose ourselves, share even the most remotely random nugget, I say, that is healthy. And even if there are people who may not get me (hell, I don’t even get me yet), or people who may like to follow my ADD posts, then it is all good.  I say we all should just sit down, take a moment, and great material or not, dark or light-hearted, we should just share something intimate.  And see what happens.




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