Well. It's happened. I've turned into that crazy-lady blogger who can only post about people cutting her off in traffic, the hilarious things her offspring say, and her loving husband who treats her like a queen. Two out of three, anyway.
The realization hit me as I crossed my low-water bridge between three men who blocked both sides, fishing poles extended over the pavement, lines dropping into the water at the edge, forcing me to drive the gauntlet they deigned to leave between their road-hogging rumps. It was a dangerous narrowing of my traffic artery, making me susceptible to a corollary infarction.
And in my mind, I turned the situation into a poorly-seasoned dish to be served up for blog consumption.
Like a hack of a stand-up comic, I am relegated to my own special brand of airplane food, taxi driver, and hotel room jokes. With the summer upon me, I have no rants about working conditions or witty cafeteria-table repartee. I am intellectually stagnating in a goopy, bacteria-riddled mental pool of Backroads backwater.
I need a catalyst. A tooth-gnashing gator to explode from my cognitive quagmire. A block of blue ice to plummet from the friendly skies and punch a hole in my becalmed vessel. A skittery scorpion to scamper up the pants-leg of my semi-conscious psyche. A scintillating story to elicit gasps, screams, and hoots from my audience.
Yet here I sit. Growing fat(ter) and sassy on my summer vacation. Pining for the days when Hick was on the receiving end of a firearm twice in one week. Lamenting that nobody ever pays ME in gum.
4 comments:
I have plenty of material, but some of it can't go on the blog. There is a connection somewhere on my website to my blog. Truly unintentional, as I tend to poke fun at people and reveal certain oddities. I end up e-mailing a select few of my seasonals to vent my utter frustration.
I suggest making a map (from the view of a bird, from above) of your "compound" or your childhood neighborhood. On the map, mark various spots that are significant. Most of the time, just the act of drawing will unearth memories, which turn into writing ideas. (You could do the same for your school, perhaps?)
Or you could always come up with post ideas like this:
1) The worst inventions in the world (and why)
2) Val's favorite things
3) Funny things Val has heard in her classroom/school
4) Unusual (but tasty) food combinations
5)If Val was Queen of the world...
6) driving tips from Val
7) Survivor: Backroads (the new season)
8) The "benefits" of getting old(er)
Hi Val,
I'm sure you'll come up with something. A trip to the grocery store or Wal Mart is always fodder for a blog post.
And Sioux's advice sounds good too.
Enjoy your vacation.
Donna
Kathy,
I am no stranger to the Blogger Protection Program. But I always find a way to vent, even though it may be through a mis-identified Ming vase.
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Sioux,
That is so kind of you to offer ideas to keep me in blogging material. Why am I suspicious that you might demand 10% of the nothing that I earn from my blog?
I am especially partial to "If Val was Queen of the World" idea. Which was kind of an emotional blow at first, realizing that I am NOT actually Queen of the World.
The Backroads Survivor is still marinating in my mind. Soon I will put it on simmer. And by the end of the week, it might be ready for serving.
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Donna,
I think my grocery store stories peaked with the woman who told me I was SO PRETTY and asked if I was married. WalMart raises my blood pressure, so I have to settle down before writing.
And I have not yet been privy to a streaker's butt-crack performance at the stadium!
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