I am finding it harder and harder to write these days. Whether it is the shortening daylight or the anniversaries or the high mold spore count or a thousand other excuses, it has become a struggle. In some sense I guess writing is always a struggle between the inner critic and the expressive part of the imagination.
I was interrupted by the UPS man here to pick up the wrong keyboard to go back to PC Connection. That was quick. I thought I was going to have to wait days and days. So I'm not chained to my house knowing not the day nor the hour when UPS will arrive. They have come and gone. I'm free. Free to what?
Back to the issue at hand. This is a struggle. Where this is defined as pick one from:
Well that last one really isn't a writing task unless you count the captions I have to put on the slides, which seems to be what's holding me up. Anyway, I struggle along trying to make sense of the writing life and figure out if I can hack this as my real life. Oh, you thought this was my real life?!? Can I call myself a writer if I don't write? I can always sit here and write about not writing I guess except that even that is a struggle now.
I looked back over my journal entries for the last 2 weeks and realized I let the big emotions hide out in writer's block again. I couldn't muster very much to say about Sunday's anniversary Mass etc. Partly that had nothing to do with grief but rather by a curious shame I feel about being moved by anything Catholic at all. That the Mass has the power to move me jars the foundation of my identity. Who am I? How much did growing up Catholic shape who I am now? Scary thoughts best left unexplored.
This entry is getting way too serious. Where's the humor? Termite goes into a bar and asks "Where's the bar tender?"
Why are there so many crows around here lately? that's not a joke, just a nonsequitur.
Following up on some previous entries:
state insect: ladybug - while in the process of researching this (in response to a discussion with my walking buddies up at North Conway) I found a site put together by 5th graders in Texas listing facts about each state. Small errors annoyed me. I actually e-mailed them with corrections.
Now that Bell Atlantic and Nynex are merging will Virginia and Maryland now be New England states too? Yikes. When I was in 4th grade we learned there were 6 New England states: Connecticut, Massachusetts, Maine, New Hampshire, Rhode Island, and Vermont. Living in Massachusetts I've always wondered why Connecticut qualified as a New England state since it is basically a suburb of New York (forgive me - my New England chauvinism is showing). Demographic studies mapping the fan shed of the Yankees vs fan shed of Red Sox show Connecticut far and away in the Yankee fan shed. Therefore they must be part of New York.
For that matter, Martha's Vineyard, which is always trying to secede from Massachusetts feels more like part of New York too. It just has that certain je ne sais quoi of New Yorkness. But now that the Texas 5th graders have informed me that New York is part of New England, I have a whole different world view. It'll take awhile to adjust but I'll get there.
where mockingbirds go in winter: here. They stay here year round. This does not explain why I have not previously seen the local car alarm imitator in winter. Maybe he frequents a bird feeder down the street or something. Anyway, they apparently don't migrate.
The other day in the rain storm I observed my mockingbird friend in behavior that can only be described as birdbrained. In the high winds we had on Saturday (or whatever day that was), he was perched on top of the round glass globe of the walkway light outside the front door. The glass was slick and wet, and like I said, round. A gust of wind slid him down the side of the globe and off. He immediately perched there again. He slid off again. He returned. He did this a half dozen times before he moved over to the bush next to the front porch, which at least had branches he could grip.
keyboard: finally got it. See yesterday's entry.
binoculars: Got 'em. Identified mystery birds as American Wigeon. See Monday's entry. Binoculars only help so much. So many species of gulls look radically different from year to year but just enough like other species that I can't even identify pictures of them let alone the actual birds in marginal lighting.
book proposal: what was I thinking? What publisher in his/her/its right mind would want a book about the size of Rhode Island?
rewriting the resume for URI: I made the fatal mistake of mentioning the URI thing to one of my brothers at the Kathleen commemorativo on Sunday. I expect a call from Mom any day now asking when I am starting at URI and when I am moving to Providence (or Riverside, or Cranston, or Kingstown, or Narragansett). No, I haven't done the resume thing. Without knowing what jobs they are creating for this coastal database project, it's kinda hard to tailor the resume. Gotta think of a plan B. Like design their project for them.
the scanner malfunction: healed itself. Works fine now. Found the manual. Read it. Did nothing. Everything ok. Odd.
return blue jacket to LL Bean: I'm wearing it. How can I return it? They'll just send me another one which will self destruct after 3 weeks. I can't possibly get through the winter returning a jacket every 3 weeks. On the other hand, I can't possibly get through the winter not being able to zip my jacket. I checked Lands End and none of their jackets seem to come in XXL and I can't get an XL on over my Icelandic sweater. Time to call Eddie Bauer. Oddly they have huge sizes in their catalog but not in their stores.
Bored yet?
pit bull: haven't seen it for days. Maybe it was just visiting.
ontological issues around mildew: found no references to sentient mildew. If mildew is capable of reaching enlightenment, you'd think it would be documented. Haven't killed it yet though, which may be why I am still coughing and choking....
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