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Christmas shopping with Moe today. Bleh. He doesn't get the concept of shopping. At all. First off, he puts off Xmas shopping until around now which means the parking lots and store are crowded as all get out, which makes him super crabby, and when Moe's super crabby it's not the time to say "You know, if we did this two weeks ago, the stores would have been empty." But I say it anyway in the hopes he'll GET IT one these times. Second, he doesn't understand the idea of items being available at the next store. So he'll have an idea of what he wants to get someone, and Store A will not have exactly what he wants, but he'll buy it and be crabby because it's not exactly what he wants. Then he'll see exactly what he wanted in Store B. So we buy it there too, then go through the baloney associated with returning the first purchase at Store A. Third, browsing is unacceptable to him. THAT'S WHEN THE BEST GIFTS ARE DISCOVERED. I don't know the exact fucking inventory of every store, sometimes browsing is required.
Long rant short, we were out all afternoon and only got about a quarter of our list finished. -__-
On the bright side, I realized I don't a have a pack of admin assistants to buy for this year. YAY for the absense of underlings and not having to drop a Benjamin at the Godiva store!
Whilebrowsing getting books for our niece "D" at B&N, I saw a shelf of creepy, leather journals. OMG, gorgeous. 60 bucks though. Srsly, dudes. 60 bucks. *wants though* Except, I think something like that would give me supermario writers' block. It's one thing to scribble phrases and inside jokes and little observations in a 10 for a $1.00 notebook. I wouldn't want to *waste* the 60 dollar journal on any of that. Except, all those silly scribbles are the stuff of stories. Eef.
And, really, this post was going to wind around to writing sooner or later. I've been doing so well. NO SELF-JINXING ALLOWED. Two keep-writing tactics have been working for me lately. And true-to-Opera, they contradict each other. The first one is, when I'm stuck I write out the idea in the most truly awful, blandest manner possible. Like, if it's a transistion, I'll write: He was walking across the room.*. It will gross me out and offend my writing ego so much that my brain goes into overdrive think-think-thinking of a better way to say that. And sure enough, something better does pop up.
The second involves me writing the wackiest, out-there version of what I'm trying to say. Jeff's fingers saxaphoned down my cock. Awful writing like my first tactic, but also a way to retain the flavor of the original idea until I think of a way to say it better/less laughably.
Those two workplans sprung from a quote (I forgot who said it) "You can't edit a blank page." and my work habit of writing 86 junky sentences before I write 1 good one. It's getting easier for me to use the junky 86 as warm-ups or placeholders, thus keeping my ass in the chair long enough to get to the one good sentence.
* I don't know if I'm unreasonable or not about sentences like "He was walking across the room." They're just so anti-action. The character can't even walk? He has to be froze in the action of walking? Maybe no one else cares about this.
Long rant short, we were out all afternoon and only got about a quarter of our list finished. -__-
On the bright side, I realized I don't a have a pack of admin assistants to buy for this year. YAY for the absense of underlings and not having to drop a Benjamin at the Godiva store!
While
And, really, this post was going to wind around to writing sooner or later. I've been doing so well. NO SELF-JINXING ALLOWED. Two keep-writing tactics have been working for me lately. And true-to-Opera, they contradict each other. The first one is, when I'm stuck I write out the idea in the most truly awful, blandest manner possible. Like, if it's a transistion, I'll write: He was walking across the room.*. It will gross me out and offend my writing ego so much that my brain goes into overdrive think-think-thinking of a better way to say that. And sure enough, something better does pop up.
The second involves me writing the wackiest, out-there version of what I'm trying to say. Jeff's fingers saxaphoned down my cock. Awful writing like my first tactic, but also a way to retain the flavor of the original idea until I think of a way to say it better/less laughably.
Those two workplans sprung from a quote (I forgot who said it) "You can't edit a blank page." and my work habit of writing 86 junky sentences before I write 1 good one. It's getting easier for me to use the junky 86 as warm-ups or placeholders, thus keeping my ass in the chair long enough to get to the one good sentence.
* I don't know if I'm unreasonable or not about sentences like "He was walking across the room." They're just so anti-action. The character can't even walk? He has to be froze in the action of walking? Maybe no one else cares about this.
