Hello, Hooked on Tonics.
What an amazingly catchy intro that was! I’ve been sitting on that gem all these months while I’ve been away. I don’t want to be presumptuous, but I see a major book deal in my future.
I’ve received thousands hundreds a few questions during my absence from WordPress about where I’ve been, how my battle with body hair is going, and which browser I chose in the Bing it On challenge. I’m using this post as a means of addressing all ten of my readers at the same time because I believe in efficiency, and want to use my saved time to watch reruns of Cop Rock on Netflix. Continue reading
Well, I did it. I survived NaBloPoMo 2013. I honestly can’t believe that this is the last post because it seems like yesterday I was only a week in, and telling my roommate that I couldn’t imagine lasting three more weeks.
This is how I feel on the inside right now:
Winner winner chicken dinner
Would I do it again? To answer that I’ll need to do a recap.
I’m a very straightforward person. I don’t blow smoke, and if you ask me for my honest opinion I’ll give it to you. I always exercise tact, but I never exercise kissass-ery.
“You were being kind of bitchy.”
That’s what a manager told me after a brainstorming session years ago. Someone had suggested a marketing initiative that was not only outdated, but completely out of tune with our core audience. I said as much; apparently I had offended a few people’s delicate sensibilities in the process.
I was flabbergasted when he took me aside and accused me of bitchery in the first degree. This was the same manager who had completely lot his shit on several occasions, acting completely unprofessionally towards his subordinates. He prided himself on “getting results” and asserted that it sometimes meant “stepping on peoples toes…hard.”
The majority of my career has been spent in Sales which I don’t recommend unless you like being surrounded by people who suffer from delusions of grandeur. It’s a male-dominated field predicated on having a commanding presence, and a “do what you have to do” approach. Continue reading
Credit: Writer’s Digest
I don’t remember the first time I thought, “Hey, I’d like to write.” Some people have a specific incident they can point to as the exact moment they decided to become a writer. Truthfully, I think writing chose me.
I remember lying in the grass during summers at my grandparents’ house, staring up at the clouds and noticing them taking shape. I’d see dinosaurs, faces, hearts and bears. The idea that I may be the only one experiencing this kind of magic made me feel lonely. I desperately wanted to share what I was seeing with another person.
In junior high, our class read the book Where the Red Fern Grows together. We had to read some parts at home, and some parts were read aloud in class. The ending is quite sad, and I remember looking around the room and seeing my classmates crying. The idea that we were all sharing the same emotion, just because of a book, made a huge impact on me.
As I got older, books really began to give gave me a way to understand the world around me. I loved nonfiction, or fictional works which were (or seemed like they could be) based on true stories. I wanted to know about life, about real life. I understood that there were things happening outside of my very small world, and I wanted to know about all of them. Continue reading
Have you ever felt like something (a thought, an idea, a situation) kept popping up all around you? I believe in the power of The Universe. I believe it’s always trying to guide us, and I believe in its infinite wisdom.
Recently I’ve been confronted with a series of situations and conversations centered around the idea of being undeserving. With one person it was being undeserving of success, with a few others it was being undeserving of happiness.
Tabula Rasa is a Latin phrase roughly translating to “blank slate.” It is the philosophical idea that humans are born with empty minds, and it is only through perception and experience that they gain knowledge. Basically, we’re all empty canvases when we’re born, and that canvas gets scribbled on throughout our lives. Continue reading
I know it’s hard to believe, but there was a time in my life when I cared about what I looked like. I wore nice clothes, carefully painted my face with makeup, and even managed to brush my hair daily. Obviously those days are long gone.
100% real picture of me from this morning
There was also a time when I did juice cleanses because I cared about health or something like that. A juice cleanse is when you only drink liquids for a certain period of time as a way to
kickstart an eating disorder remove toxins from your body. It’s also a great test to see how long you can go without eating before seriously considering robbing someone at gunpoint for a piece of pizza.
While the cleanses themselves were often different, the outcomes of them were always the same.
I wasn’t going to do NaBloPoMo this year. I did my own
antisocial rogue version with Speaker7 last year, and remember thinking that I’d rather have my arm sawed off by a butter knife than do it again. When it rolled around this year, Speaker7 sent me a very threatening “do NaBloPoMo or you’re dead” e-mail. That, coupled with Rarasaur’s crazed enthusiasm over literate chili peppers, convinced me to give it another go.
I’m pretty sure this is the slippery slope that leads to people finding themselves in cults. I’ve somehow managed to narrowly escape that fate all of these years. The only cult I belong to is the one which worships Jack in the Box tacos.