Archive for the ‘Write Stuff’ Category



Delaying His Dreams

11:31 pm · category: Write Stuff

In the first meeting of my creative writing class, the instructor ripped pages from the most recent issue of the National Enquirer and distributed those tear sheets to me and my classmates at random. From those tear sheets we were supposed to use snippets from the articles to create found poetry.

I ended up with parts of stories about Bill giving Hillary weight loss advice, OJ’s daughter considering visiting him in jail, an overweight couple who lost an enormous amount of weight together, a woman who stabbed her husband multiple times, and Chelsea Clinton’s newlywed blues. This was my on-the-fly piece:

While she was criss-crossing the globe—shattering glass ceilings and walking on sunshine—he was at home, racing on treadmills and Stairclimbers.

The honeymoon was already over.

“Trophy husband” sounded good in theory; he just never realized the masculine version of “barefoot and pregnant” was “rock-hard abs and an obsession with the Juicer.”

He was mocked in public for his place. He just knew it.

She doesn’t make all the decisions. Just the ones that count.



The Morning After

8:03 pm · category: I Need a Do-Over, Write Stuff

Last month my roommate kept her four-year-old grandson (Brayden) so her daughter (Shawn) could go out to celebrate passing passing the nursing boards. I went to bed relatively early (for me, anyway) because I had a dress rehearsal the following afternoon.

Brayden slept in the extra bedroom, so I wasn’t terribly surprised when I heard my door open around 6 a.m. and “felt” someone padding around my room; after all, he was just a disoriented kid in a strange house. But then he crawled into bed with me, and I got a little weirded out because I sleep naked. When I rolled over to look at him, his mother was staring me in the face.

“I’m just going to put some clothes on now,” I squeaked, and then I felt around on the floor until I found my pajamas (Thank goodness I have a platform bed just inches off the floor.), shimmied into them under the covers, and went back to sleep.

Four hours later I woke up because Brayden was running around the house like, I assume, little boys tend to do in the early a.m. As soon as I emerged from my room, he yelled, “Hey, Bradi! Did you know my mom slept naked with you last night?”

“Yes, well, I put clothes on when she got in bed with me, so I was naked for only a minute.” I wasn’t embarrassed. I mean, it wasn’t my fault my roommate’s daughter crawled into my bed with my naked body.

“No! Not you! My mom didn’t have no clothes on! She took ‘em off and got in bed wif you!”

It turns out Shawn was INCREDIBLY over-served the previous night. She and her designated driver friend stumbled in just before daybreak and slept in the living room, but somehow Shawn managed to drench herself and the couch in water. She stripped and climbed into bed with me—I guess because she’s slept in my room before when I’ve been out of town and was too drunk to remember the “when Bradi is out of town” part.

So although I didn’t know it at the time, I woke up that morning with a smokin’ hot 25-year-old naked chick in my bed with no effort on my part whatsoever.

And how was your weekend?



Perfect Moment Monday: The Write Stuff

My Perfect Moment Monday for this week actually came on a Monday. (Note: that’s probably the only time this will ever happen.)

Today I started a creative writing course. If you’re reading this as a potential client, you’re probably freaking out and wondering, “How can she bill herself as a writer and editor if she thinks she needs to take a writing course?” Fear not: I have a perfectly legitimate explanation.

The key word there is “creative.” I’m fantastic at technical, journalistic and academic writing. And if you give me a topic, I can usually do “creative writing” pretty well, too. But I absolutely stink at coming up with ideas on my own. My hope is that this course will help me grow more comfortable with that style of writing and help me generate new and original ideas. We’ll see how it goes!

Beginning Jan. 03, 2011, I commit to participating weekly in Perfect Moment Monday, sponsored by Write Mind, Open Heart, in which I will reflect on and share a perfect moment from the previous week. You can join in, too!



New Rules

  • If you’re a tweeker and have meth mouth, you are not allowed to sport a tongue ring.  There is no defensible reason to draw further attention to your terrible teeth.
  • If you write a medical transcription training program and insist that the two most important elements for success are speedy typing and strong grammar skills, make sure that your materials are grammatically correct.  This is especially important to those of us who actually know proper capitalization and punctuation, because we “auto edit” as we read/type and have to go back to type text as (incorrectly) shown on screen, thus dramatically lowering our WPM average.  (FYI:  You can’t put a comma just anywhere.  There’s a whole separate set of rules for that.  See The Elements of Style for further details.)
  • If you drop off your dog at Aunt Doodie’s shop for grooming and we ask what time you will pick up your pet, do not respond with, “I’m a school teacher.”  Mr. Whiteaker does not say, “I’m a judge.”  Paula Jones does not say, “I was once a celebrity boxer.”*  “I’m a school teacher” does not register on any clock we have in the shop.  “The last bell rings at 3:15, so I’ll be here right after that” will do just fine.  Besides, when you say, “I’m a school teacher,” I will smile sweetly and respond with, “I’m a dog bather.”  I will not mention that I have more degrees than a pot of boiling water and likely blew your smug ass out of the Milky Way on the NTE.  Aunt Doodie will not mention that she nets twice more than you do annually and works five hours a day.  Our parents (Who were school teachers!) reared us right.
  • If you are Nathan Fillion, David Foster Wallace, or Scarlett Johannson, make plans to ravish me immediately.  Advance notice is preferred but not required.  (I’d like to shave and put some sheets not covered in pet hair on the bed first.)
  • If you are responsible for the Burger King website, be ashamed.  That place is completely unnavigable.
  • If you are responsible for the Burger King commercials featuring the freaky, mute mascot with the ginormous head, email me and plan for a trip to the bank.  I will send you my home address, and you can send me a check for the therapy I’ve needed because of those horrifying ads.

*Paula Jones is tiny and sweet and has the most adorable accent on the planet.  And if you mess with her, I will kick your ass.  Since, um, she proved in her boxing match that she couldn’t kick your ass herself.



While I Was Out

This is what I did during my blogging hiatus, in no particular order:

  • Kicked Rocco out
  • Got fired
  • Decided to write, organize and produce my own version of Food Court Musical
  • Learned how to make homemade candy bars
  • Signed up for unemployment
  • Worked my way up to the number one and number five spots, respectively, on Facebook’s “Addicted to Angel” and “Addicted to Buffy” trivia applications
  • Gave up my dream of being in the roller derby
  • Realized unemployment will not keep me from being homeless…
  • …Began bathing dogs for Aunt Doodie in exchange for her paying my rent
  • Started taking a yoga class
  • Got cable TV with a DVR
  • Spent a lot of time with Aunt Doodie musing about how we would survive on a deserted island
  • Started working on building a freelance career, which will theoretically enable me to stay home so I can play “Addicted to Angel/Buffy” Facebook applications and watch the DVR all day long
  • Successfully completed a ten-day cleansing fast
  • Entertained at my home twice in one week — a record!
  • Found out my Aunt Shelley has cancer
  • Realized I am not equipped to write, organize and produce my own version of Food Court Musical, so enlisted the help of my friends
  • Became obsessed with sushi and ate it almost every day for two weeks
  • Lost nine pounds
  • Spent a lot of time daydreaming about how Nathan Fillion and I would live on a deserted island, using Aunt Doodie’s survival ideas and my “tons of free time” ideas
  • Attended the Slayage Conference, where Rhonda Wilcox saw my name tag, remembered me, and asked why I never formally submitted my paper
  • Made my home almost totally chemical free
  • Became disgusted by sushi and vowed to never eat it again
  • Found out my cousin Bailey is having another baby
  • Learned how to fry an egg perfectly
  • Bought a plane ticket to LA for the WD party in October
  • Twisted Cindy’s arm until she agreed to visit me this summer
  • Ate more sushi
  • Found, loved and lost my precious Dr. Horrible
  • Lost a toenail



A month ago, Min asked me explain what I meant when I said I boil out my ears twice a week. And then I promptly forgot.

I boil out my ears by tilting my head to one side and pouring a capful of hydrogen peroxide in my “top” ear. Please note that I do not boil or even heat the peroxide beforehand; it just goes straight from the bottle to the cap lid to my ear. When you pour the liquid in your ear, it sort of sounds like it’s bubbling up, which I guess is why it’s called “boiling.” Once the fizzing noise stops, you turn your head to the side so the peroxide flows out.

Truth be told, I don’t have any idea why I do this. Mama regularly boiled out our ears when we were growing up, and it’s a habit I’ve kept. I assume it’s supposed to clean out my ear canal, but I really have no idea. And yet… I still do it.

My daddy has been trying to get me to try ear candling for a while now, and I finally acquiesced on New Year’s Day. It was sort of soothing, although the entire extended family sat around and watched while my middle sister put a flaming stick in my ear for ten minutes. I was simultaneously grossed out and fascinated by what appeared to be chunks of cerumen* when she cut open the stub of the stick and showed me the insides of the ear candle. You can therefore imagine my disappointment when I learned that ear candling doesn’t do what it claims and is potentially dangerous.

I guess I’ll stick with boiling out my ears.


One more thing to explain…

I know I said I was participating in Blog 365, and I am! The post from last Tuesday has proven to be fraught with technical difficulties, which I hope will be resolved by the weekend. And I keep revising the “missing” posts from this week, because I realized I needed to put a little (read: lot) more effort into them to get the right tone. (I know I’m mostly a big ole whiner on this blog. I’m working on it, I swear.) So if you read rather regularly and just check for new posts at the top of the page, you might want to use Google Reader or one of those RSS Feed thingies that I don’t really understand. At least that way you’ll know when I post backdated items.

*I have been in love with the word “cerumen” since I learned it in seventh grade science.



Product Performance

These are the things I’m crazy about right now.

Secret Clinical Strength Deodorant I sweat. A lot. This is the first deodorant I’ve ever used that really keeps me dry and non-smelly, and I therefore highly recommend it.
Lee Pace Rocco and I fought over who gets to have him as a pretend boyfriend. But it ended just like our fight over the pretend boyfriend at our favorite Chinese restaurant, and Rocco finally won.
Reusable Grocery Bags Very handy and environmentally friendly. Plus, Kroger takes three cents off my final bill for every bag of my own that I provide. (This, of course, made my total roll backward even more, and I almost had an orgasm in the check-out line.)
Honey I used it as a hair mask in the shower the other day, and my mop was half as frizzy as usual, even though I let it dry naturally and didn’t put any product on it.
Nathan Fillion Clips I don’t know what it is about him, but he seems awfully funny and unassuming. Of course, he is an actor.
Medicine Aisle Standoff This is my favorite post on any blog by any person ever ever ever.