Monthly Archives: November 2012

Being a human being

My body has had enough of sitting at a desk. I feel like my muscles are congested. I feel like I need to stand up and stretch until my fingertips graze the sky, and my feet reach the center of the earth.

I can’t take any more applications that crash. I can’t share any more content on Twitter and Facebook. I’m tired of looking at my iPhone every time an app alerts me that someone has done something online.

I want to sit in a hot tub, and then get out and have a message.

I want to unwind and unplug, I have to.

Today, I don’t like this modern world. I don’t like it one bit.

That’s not true. I like the electric heating, the indoor plumbing, the tv, the iPhone that connects to the car stereo. There’s lots of things, so I should shut up with the complaining.

This weekend I can focus on:

Exercise
Breathing
Cooking
Christmas card making
Being a human being

That, my friends, is all.

Gone

I just wrote a lengthy post about how on Monday I stepped in a crack in a dark parking lot and twisted my ankle. I was using the WordPress iPad app. I thought I had saved the post as a draft. Apparently I didn’t.

I started the post talking about how I wasn’t going to write about all of my plans and ambitions like I usually do. Now, I’m tempted to do just that.  I won’t.

My ankles have always been weak, so painfully twisting one of them is a normal thing for me. On Monday I fell to the ground and was helped up by two of my belly dance classmates There is still pain when I do excessive foot flexion and ankle rotation, but I’m walking without a hobble. For the short term there will be no treadmill sessions.

I won’t talk about my grand plans for the future. I won’t talk about my Instructional Design blog, or my fiction blog. Mostly because one only has the stock “Hello World” entry, and the other is a glimmer of a thought. I’ll talk about my plans for the evening. I’m going (with my husband) to watch his great nephew, Noah, play basketball. Noah is 13. He is a collector and breeder of corn snakes. We call him snake boy. We will never visit Noah’s house.

I took a picture of my wrapped ankle. This is the kind of thing you do when you have a phone with a camera.

wrapped ankle

wrapped ankle

 

 

Being sick and ambitious

It really stinks when you have all of these great ideas for your digital life, but you’re sick, and you just can’t bear to sit at the computer and work on them.  That was me last week. I felt bad. I was tired, lightheaded, lethargic, and at times, nauseous. I wasn’t blogging, so I worried that I might be losing the few readers that I’ve gained over the months.  I did have the  energy to curate, and I even  read most of the articles that I collected.  I call that progress.

So I missed a lot of work last week. I was  too sick to go in on Wednesday. Thursday was Thanksgiving. Friday was the day after Thanksgiving, and who’s gonna work that day? Not me baby. I really need to get a job with benefits. But that’s another story.

I had a dream that I was working as a secretary for a woman I worked for a long time ago. The dream was an unpleasant reminder that I don’t want to go back to being a secretary. It has been my experience that when you’re a secretary people assume you don’t have much education and you have no ambition.  The thing is, secretaries know everything about the office they’re running, but because 99% of them are women, they are rarely given a chance to move up. That’s the way I see it.  My problem is that when I look at the jobs available in my town, clerical positions are the only things I seem to be qualified for.  My MFA in dance just doesn’t carry any clout, so I’m trying to reinvent myself as an instructional designer.  I’m actually working (part-time) in that field, so that’s a positive.

I didn’t plan to discuss my employment situation to the extent that I just did. I was going to mention my thought about creating a serialized fiction blog.

In 2004, Alexander McCall Smith wrote an episodic novel called 44 Scotland Street, for the Edinburgh newspaper, The Scotsman. It was produced as a podcast by,  The Guardian and then released as an audiobook. It got me thinking about writing something episodic too. I never followed up on the thought. When I was in high school, I wrote a series for the school paper called, Darbyville High.  It was about the trials and tribulations of a girl who attended Darbyville High School.  I don’t think there were more than two episodes. Not sure what happened…

So, I say to myself, “Why not take the start to your failed NanoWriMo effort and make a blog out of it?” I really don’t have great dreams of being a published author. There are too many obstacles, and too much competition. I just want to create. Of course there have been people who took their work from blog to book. Anything is possible if you believe. Oh and you have to actually write the thing too. Oh boy!

Pink Splash

There was a time, a few years ago, when I decided to embrace the color pink. I bought a pink wallet and a pink iPhone case. I also had a pink hat that I liked to wear in the winter. It was the “hot color” of the season, so you couldn’t avoid seeing it in the stores. I had previously been an avoider of pink because I thought it too girly. For some reason I didn’t want to be seen as girly. Looking back, I’m not sure what my problem was with the idea of being a “girly girl”.

Who was I then? Who am I now?

This morning I discovered some new “thought leaders” to follow on Twitter, and I wondered how I can become one of them. So that begs the question, “am I not happy with who I am?” Where is the line between striving for something more, and just wishing to be something you’re not? Do I need to be famous to feel worthwhile? I’ve always wanted to be famous. When I got rejected by a guy I had a crush on in high school, I consoled myself with the thought that someday I’d be a famous movie star and that stupid boy would be sorry he rejected me.

I am not a famous movie star. Honestly, I think Hollywood would chew me up, spit me out, and then tap dance on my limp and flattened soul.

I’d like to do something big though. I’d like to make a splash in the world, hopefully while I’m still young-ish and attractive.

You see, sometimes I feel like I’m very, very cool, but there aren’t enough people to witness my coolness.

This could be something akin to a manic episode. I’ve gone several weeks now without falling into a mildly depressive state and it’s confusing me. Is this really me? This is where writing fiction comes in handy. You just work all of this stuff out on your characters.

I don’t have the pink wallet and iPhone case anymore, and I wish I had the hat. I also still want to be a movie star, or at least have a part in a major motion picture. I’d settle for an independent film if I really like the script.

Over my head

I’m in over my head, and it is  my fault entirely. I have too many irons in the fire. I am but one woman, but I apparently need to be three or four.

Here’s the problem. I’m trying to become some kind of content curation maven on various social media platforms. I also want to make myself known as an “expert” in Instructional Design. Now, for me, the former is easier than the latter because I am not in fact an Instructional Design expert. To become one, I need a degree and a track record in the industry. Which reminds me I need to think about applying to grad school.

I also want to be some kind of blogging goddess.  The goddess part ties in to all the rest because I just have to blog about of my curation and Instructional Design stuff. It all sounds so good except that my head is about explode!

I keep discovering things on the damned Internet (like the Infinite Jukebox) that I need to share with my growing number of Twitter followers. Yes, my follower count is increasing!  I know many follow me just so I’ll follow back, but when you keep getting new ones, you feel an obligation to  tweet more.

I need an assistant. I need a staff. I need focus. I need regular exercise.

The major problem with all of these “hobby” type activities is that they involve me sitting in front of a computer or slumping over an iPad or iPhone. I’m not exercising enough, and that is contributing to my craziness. I do feel crazy. I feel like someone with Bipolar disorder during a manic phase. I toyed with the idea that I might have Cyclothtymic Disorder. I don’t think I do.

I need a timeout from my personal rat race. I need to pick one thing and let go of the rest of it for a while. If I have to pick, I’ll pick content curation. I think it’s the thing that really lights my fire.

Usually I’m listless and depressed during this time of year, so I’m happy to be motivated.

I think it’s time to take a walk and not think about any of this.

Three Letter Words from the Daily Prompt

I am going to write as if this is a normal post. I will avoid mentioning my avoidance of three letter words. Here I go.

I have written about trying to be seen as an expert on some subject. Since I think Instructional Design is my calling, I thought I would become an expert in that realm. I have joined some LinkedIn groups on the topic. I have been following Instructional Design people on Twitter. I have watched videos, I have read articles. I don’t feel competent to write a blog post on the subject.

Maybe I should just write something, anything. My first step is probably to start another blog. This blog is meant to be my rambling outlet. That sounds like a store doesn’t it? Rambling Outlet

I am currently working on an informational video about PowerPivot, a Microsoft Excel plug-in. I could write about that process. I could also create some kind of personal training project. That is probably a better idea. Perhaps I’ll start that project while eating or showering. Well, I at least moved forward in my thinking on the subject. That counts as success!

This no three-letter word thing is hard. Some words just have to be included, or else I kinda sound goofy. Maybe this activated a different part of my brain.

I thought this would be a good time, alas it was not.

I’d like to write a poem

I’d like to write a poem
about my feelings
about my struggles (such that they are)
about my everyday and every night

I’d like to put words together
in a pretty way
with wit, rhyme, rhythm, meaning, metaphor, simile
and other devices
things I learned in Mrs. Greene’s 11th grade English class

That was my year of Shakespeare.
Hamlet, Othello, the Taming of the Shrew, The Scottish play

That was the year of Candide
What else did we read?
I don’t quite remember

I’d like to write a poem that digresses
that goes off-topic and then comes back

I could call it experimental
I could call it improv
I could say it’s the start of my one-woman show that I’ll perform when I’m 62

When I’m on my fifth career
After I’ve sold my 12th collage, I’ll be ready to move on to something else

I’d like to sit down and write many poems
and then paste them to the walls
no
I wouldn’t do that

When I was a teenager I wrote on my full-length mirror
I thought I was artsy
I guess I was
I quoted the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.
I wrote “Hang the sense of it and keep yourself occupied.”

I wrote other things on that mirror, but I don’t know what.
I don’t have the mirror anymore.
I wish I did.

« Older Entries