holoblomo day 6: unoriginal

note: “holoblomo” stands for Horribly Local Blogging Month, my response to National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) that happens every November. The NaNoWriMo challenge asks writers to compose 50,000 words in a month; I chose 10,000 as my goal. Enjoy.

So here we are.

I should know better than to think I could ever have an original idea. 

Yesterday, I received a comment on “nanowrimo nononono” from Noisy Quiet that I will paraphrase here:

holoblomo day 5: ballad

note: “holoblomo” stands for Horribly Local Blogging Month, my response to National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) that happens every November. The NaNoWriMo challenge asks writers to compose 50,000 words in a month; I chose 10,000 as my goal. Enjoy.

So here we are.

It’s incredible how seemingly random things in life intertwine. A couple of weeks ago, I was watching the Harry Belafonte HBO documentary, blown away by my underestimation of his activism over the decades, and suddenly I had a revelation: music plays heavily in the world of the oppressed, but not so much with the oppressors. There is no opposite of “We Shall Overcome.” No one does a revue of Gestapo folk songs; at least, not just for the reasons you’d think.

holoblomo day 4: fog

note: “holoblomo” stands for Horribly Local Blogging Month, my response to National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) that happens every November. The NaNoWriMo challenge asks writers to compose 50,000 words in a month; I chose 10,000 as my goal. Enjoy.

So here we are.

I am in the midst of a classic lightheaded, dizzying antihistamine haze. It doesn’t make everything funny or deep, but at least the fact that I can still breathe through my nose makes me not care about my brain-addled fog. I’d enjoy this little buzz a lot more if I didn’t feel primarily made of mucous. That and if it didn’t make me groggy during the day and unable to sleep at night.

holoblomo day 3: dear society

note: “holoblomo” stands for Horribly Local Blogging Month, my response to National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) that happens every November. The NaNoWriMo challenge asks writers to compose 50,000 words in a month; I chose 10,000 as my goal. Enjoy.

So here we are.

If there is proof that there is something wrong with society, it’s the following headline on web sites and local news stations:

Fun Things To Do With Leftover Halloween Candy.

It is now that I wish to address Society:

holoblomo day 2: here whatever comes

note: “holoblomo” stands for Horribly Local Blogging Month, my response to National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) that happens every November. The NaNoWriMo challenge asks writers to compose 50,000 words in a month; I chose 10,000 as my goal. Enjoy.

At the suggestion of my pal Julie, this challenge is now called HoLoBloMo.

So here we are. 

As I mentioned yesterday, I am coming down with something, and this is the scary time when it’s just starting to manifest. Is the congestion going to go nasal or bronchial? Is it going to go away in the standard two-week time frame or is it going to linger until Christmas? How to attack? With what to attack? When to start attacking? When to give up on attacking and let whatever it will become just run its course?

Yes. I am a sickness nerd. 

nanowrimo nononono

So here we are.

Today begins NaNoWriMo -- National Novel Writing Month -- where writers all over the globe are challenged to write a novel of at least 50,000 words in the thirty days that hath November. I know a few perfectly sane people who are diving in to this pool of crazy. I doff my cap towards them.

But it ain’t for me. I’ve never been adept at long-form writing. (Some of you snarky types may be chortling, “You’ve never been adept at short-form writing, either.” Ha ha. You win the Game of Internet.)

bad bad girl

So here we are. 

I have always been a very good girl. Painfully square, if you will. My two shoes are many things, but mostly goody. 

This occasionally irks me as I age into a period of uncertainty, as I realize that life has no guarantees. The ax of crap may fall on any of us, whether or not we kept curfew, studied hard, or didn’t inhale. And I wonder if I could have been having a lot more fun all this time. People get away with murder. Literally, figuratively... bad guys often win. Folks are camping out in Zuccotti Park right now because the bad guys won. So why not flirt with danger? 

Well, Joe Law squelched that thought, sister. 

canceled

So here we are. 

It’s that time of year again, when the ax starts to fall on the latest television offerings. It’s also that time of year when people shake their heads at the callousness of it all, of the rush to judgement, and the result of this are endless online comments about how everything on TV sucks, sux, socks, or suchs. [Sic.]

I prefer to treat this time of year like an early Thanksgiving. I sit with a warm beverage in my hand and muse upon about how grateful I am that the powers-that-be in television land only have control over their own industry. Think of how horrible life would be if network executives ran the rest of our lives: