More of a clog

As opposed to a writing block, that is. I decided that all I would ask of myself today would be a sentence. One single sentence. Surely no matter how stuck I felt, one sentence was not too much to ask? I mean I'm not blocked I've merely slowed down.

So, I went for a walk instead of lunch and...ended up changing "they will" to "they'll". So not only did I not finish a new sentence, I didn't even start a new sentence. I edited something already in existence and for all I know tomorrow I'll change it back. Yup, I'm sure a great success as a novelist.

Two brains that don't think as one.

I have two brains. Life would be best if I only used the smart one, but sometimes the not-so-smart one supersedes the decisions the smart brain makes.

I dropped a pie this morning, hot out of the oven. My dumb brain said "grab that, you don't have time to make another", so I did. And even as I flung it - yes, I used the word flung intentionally and correctly - onto the counter my smart brain said "but...it just came out of the oven, idiot. You'll get burned." And it was right too. Because both brains had a good point to make, really. But overall it made for a poor morning. And this on top of deciding that the brownies I'd made the night before weren't perfect enough to sell, so I had to make a second batch. And then I realized that I didn't have anything for the pot-luck at work. So before my day in the office even started I had made a pie, a pan of brownies, chocolate-espresso ganache, chocolate fudge frosting and three loaves of bread. Grant you they were flatbreads and the dough was done in the early hours of the morning so all I did was shape and bake but still...this makes for a very long day.

Creative Writing in the Business World

First you need the background to this. Actually, you don't need to read it but I want to tell it so I am.

There is something out there in the kitchen gadged world known as a Hot Stone Cooker. Some brands refer to it as a hot stone grill. The thing works by super-heating a marble slab with is then placed on a metal rack with to alcohol burners underneath. The stone gets hot enough to cook steak, shrimp etc.

I've wanted one for a while, but I've waited because I know that I will eventually find one at something like a garage sale. I know three people who own them and not one of them has used it. Why would I want something that seems like a good idea and yet never gets used? Because it looks nice and with the burners on (and the stone not heated) it would make an excellent hot plate for warm appetizers. And I do cater a fair amount of things that require a hot plate or its marble equivalent.

So I found one, on Sunday. Yeah! There are directions about how to heat it, what to do to not ruin it and when it is ready to cook on the instructions are:
"you are now ready to cook with your new hot stone cooker. Use your imagination and creativity to create gourmet meals for friends and family. If both of these are lacking, here are some recipes" (italics are mine)

I can't decide if they're serious and don't see that that could be viewed as a teeny bit insulting or if they're just a business that has a sense of humour. Regardless, it made me laugh on a dim sort of day.

I should be in a circus

I'm willing to admit that what got me into this situation may be seen as klutziness. But what got me out was so skilled I should be in a circus.

I wore a skirt yesterday (which I pretty much always do: I'm still waiting for the day that daily wear is a giant t-shirt and underwear. With the addition of socks in the winter), a very long skirt. Almost ankle length. And shoes with heels.

Leaving the house requires going down three steps, something I've never had trouble with before. Ok, not often. FINE! Not more than a dozen times. A baker's dozen. This time, on the very top step - so really, I hadn't even started going down yet - the heel of one shoe caught the hem of the skirt, tripping me. Given my general lack of co-ordination*, you'd think, wouldn't you, that this whole thing would have ended up with torn skirt and bloody hands and knees. You'd be wrong!

With crazily cartwheeling arms - and yes, a squeal of astonishment - I managed to negotiate all three steps without falling. I'm pretty sure the whole thing was entertaining, but the thing is I managed it. It was neither pretty nor graceful but it worked. I did it. Ha!

* Except when ballroom dancing. A friend of mine suggested once that when I walk I hum a song in my head - I'm quite graceful when dacning (depending on the dance). I tried that, but I ended up walking downtown practicing the Latin Hip movement. Which is fine if you're a hooker, not so good if you're not.

Tears or toughness?

So what is better when enraged? Streaming tears of anger or buying a boxing thingy - shut up, you know what I mean - that I can punch at will with no harm to anyone?

Free Porn. Intentional?

I learned a whole new meaning for "neighbourhood watch" last night. Driving home from the mall with A. (and let me tell you the people that shop at Safeway between nine and ten at night are...odd. Myself included, I'm sure) and driving along Grant there was a house with a large screen tv on the far wall on, and their curtains were open. Being pitch black out it was easy to see what was on. Giant naked people. I've no idea if it was intentional or if they're just idiots and don't realize that people can see their tv but I'm guessing all it will take (other than a complaining neighbour) will be a car accident when someone fails to negotiate the curve. What with the distraction and all.

Silly Stats

Or perhaps just poor thinking. Guessing? I don't know, but here's the thing:

I have a tea book. Actually, I have a few, but the one I was reading last night made an interesting and mathematically unlikely comment. Their recommendation was to never buy tea in bags, as the tea is pretty much the sweepings off the tea sorting floor after 90 percent of the tea has been sorted and sold. Later in the book she says that 95 % of the tea that people drink is from tea bags. So...ten percent of the tea sold makes 95 percent of the tea we buy. I think that what is really happening is that a lot of the loose tea sold is sold to companies who blend and bag it. Butthat's not the way she's written it. The way she has it 10 percent of tea grown is sold into magic bags that somehow end up accounting for 95 percent of the tea we drink. Maybe there are giant warehouses somewhere filled with really good tea, all going to waste. Or maybe I should not think so much. But I have to. Sorry, but as the song says I don't know why it is but my brain works all the time.

Losing it

I thought I was losing it a few weeks ago when I asked the dogs, as I left the house, if the Food Network was an acceptable TV choice for them. Forget that all three of us believe that they like to have the tv on when we're gone (we could be wrong on that - perhaps they spend their time having philosophical discussions), there I was asking them what they preferred.

That, however, pales in respect to last night. I was working on my writing and stuck between deciding whether one character should be a badger or a hedgehog. I'm particularly fond of hedgehogs and was leaning in that direction when this thought entered my brain:

"Hmmm. Hedgehog. Would anyone even listen to a hedgehog? I think a badger would be better, they are a far more reasonable and creditable creature."

So either this is going to be the most awesome fantasy story or my friends will eventually have to stage an intervention and haul me away.

Well, I'd always wondered.

This is probably something everyone else learned in elementary school (learned and remembered; for all I know I learned it too and it slipped away during the night), but I was thrilled (and you thought I had no life!) to find out that:

Periods and commas go inside quotation marks, colons and semicolons go outside. Question marks and exclamation points can go in either place (which would explain why I can never remember which is correct).

That's it. That's all I've learned today. Oh, and that this job sucks. Except I think I already knew that.

Or maybe I'll just run away

It's a good thing that jail as a deterrent works for me. Because robbery (of a bank, for funds) and arson (of the office, just because) are looking mighty appealing this morning. Hope Y'all are having a better day.