Life

Forward is forward

Your speed doesn’t matter, forward is forward

I like this saying. I think it’s natural to want to catapult your way to success or whatever achievement you’re after, but mine times out of ten, it takes time. So much time. And sometimes progress is so fleeting that it feels like you’re going backwards. 

I have a habit of standing still because it’s better than dealing with the disappointment but… I’m going to try and shake myself out of that rut. 

This is a response to: CatapultDaily Prompt

Bitchin'

One Liner Wednesday – an overwhelming urge to run away


This is my entry for One Liner Wednesday.

Someone posted a video of their pedicure (is this a thing that people do now? Why?) and their rampant need for attention aside, I DO NOT LIKE FEET. AT ALL. I don’t like open shoes. I don’t like sandals. I don’t even like peep toe shoes. Anything that shows any part of the foot (specifically the toes and heel) is off limits. I hate the sound of feet slapping in shoes. I just hate feet. So you can imagine what happened when I unknowingly clicked onto this video. I was not happy. I literally almost unfollowed them because I hate feet that much. I’m glad they’re getting their feet together because messed up gnarly feet are the worst but they need to do it far away from where I can see.
SHUDDER. 

Life, Random Thoughts

Random Thoughts #15

I made #14 private because I was not thinking straight last week and everything I posted was a little too personal. I will leave the others up just in case they’re ever helpful to anybody but that one. Nope. I read through the previous Random Thoughts posts and I think they’re a nice chronological account and archive of my ongoing weirdness, lol! 
Anyway, today’s thought:

Genuine amusement! There’s a first time for everything.

My Instagram obsession (well, I don’t consider it an obsession but whatever, we’ll just go with that. Or what else can I call them? Bob? Let’s got with Bob) posted something to day that made me laugh IRL. 

Occasionally I check Bob’s posts. It was just whenever I had time but then his dog died and seriously his dog was the best part of everything. I was genuinely sad for him so now I watch his stories more? I don’t know how that works. I think I’m just bored now that I don’t have TV shows to watch. 

Unfortunately, he’s still a frequent provider of secondhand embarrassment but I find it interesting really. He’s more or less the most active person on my Instagram. I still follow less than 40 people, lol. 

My poor friend is always telling me that Bob isn’t that interesting and I’m just like… but he’s pretty? I’m that shallow. And I’m so bored that anything will do right now. I need to follow more blogs on here. I’m gonna go find a bunch of writing blogs right now. And work on honing my craft and not mocking Bob with my long suffering friend. 

By work I mean I’m probably going to keep watching them. 

I need an intervention. 

ETA: I think I just got one. Bob has irritated me immensely. It was so bad that I’m now flicking through ‘instagram is for attention seekers’ posts to kick-start the cool down period. 

We had a good run, Bob, but you’re not that pretty. 

writing

scorpion scar {flash fiction}

There’s a scar on my chin, right under the center, at the bottom. It looks like a scorpion and feels like a raised ridge. 
I tell everyone it makes me feel like a badass, but really it makes me feel like a battle axe. 

The story goes that I got into a bar fight.

Jim from the up the street was three shots of whiskey too far gone and putting his sweaty oversized paws on a woman that didn’t want nothing to do with him. 

I stood up, bold and sober and I demanded that Jim leave her alone. The ensuing fight involved all sorts, from broken chair legs, to broken glass to me slamming a cashew shell into Jim’s ruddy cheek.

The punchline always gets people; the part where Jim pissed himself and scuttled away in embarrassment. 

They laugh, buy me a drink and everybody’s happy.

Except, that’s not how it happened. 

I’m a writer and one thing writers do is embellish. Even in real life, writers are forever telling stories. If I can entrance someone just by telling them a story, I can make magic happen on paper. 

That’s how the story of my scar grows. 

The real story is that I fell asleep at my desk one day. I know what you’re thinking, how does that lead to a scorpion shaped scar? 

Now you’re wondering if the scar really is shaped that way. 

I know the answer but I’ll never tell.

What’s important is that I was sitting on a three legged chair and unfortunately, chairs are inanimate. They don’t think the way that we do, if they think at all. 

So when I startled awake, there was some kind of breakdown in communication between the three functional legs and I went down hard and knocked my chin against the hard pine. I tasted blood almost immediately and I knew that it was going to leave some kind of mark.

I didn’t know it would be scorpion shaped, but I’ll just take it as a blessing.

That story – the truth – isn’t as interesting as me being a hero. People might laugh at clumsiness, but heroics get you the golden points. A free beer, a free slice of pie, a questionable donut from an officer who probably knows that I’m full of shit.

Being a hero makes me feel like a king and I’m not a good enough person to walk away from that.

Is anybody?

People aren’t interested in the truth so I don’t bother to give it to them.

Life is all about the illusion and even I find myself playing along. Some days I live in that bar fight, play it over and over in my mind like it really happened.

In some ways, it did.

The setting just happens to be my imagination.

Awkward Situations, Life

Getting Caught Up In My Own Weirdness

This is me in a nutshell, although sometimes I think life would be easier if I was normal. Sometimes I get so caught up in the weirdness that I can feel the point at which it goes from being funny to ‘omg can this girl shut the fk up’. 

So, I’m going to give my long suffering break and bring the weirdness here for a bit. I will give you guys a daily log of weirdness. I’m serious. Or we can just file it under Random Thoughts like I’ve been doing? Yeah, that’s better. Anyway. Bye!

Life

Just a quick word

Yesterday evening an explosion rocked the Manchester Arena in Manchester, England. It was just after an Ariana Grande concert. As of writing, 19 people are dead and 50+ injured. It’s being treated as a terror attack. 

It’s absolutely awful. My heart goes out to the families of the victims and to anyone who was there. That shit is scary and not okay. Not even a little bit. 

Personally, when things like this happen I often have nothing to say. Not even a generic tweet. Not the hate mongering or the snap judgements. 

I wish more people were the same. 

Bitchin', Life

Hell hath no fury…

Story checks out. 

Apparently I get grumpy when I’m hungry. The real question is who are these people that don’t? There’s something wrong with y’all, and not me. I need to be sufficiently energised to deal with any bullshit that might come along the way. And this is Planet Earth. There’s always a 99.9% chance of that happening at any time.