Hello World. I am experimenting. Way cool. I bet a monkey could do this faster than me (and better). Can you hear me now??
Monday, March 28, 2011
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Really??
Soon our world will be divided into two groups:
1. Those “starring” in reality television shows.
2. Those watching reality television shows. (Aka the audience).
Recently, I was channel surfing which does not burn up nearly as many calories as real surfing but I am hydrophobic and a girl has got to get exercise anyway she can. I fell into the abyss of the “The Bachelor.” It was scary in a Ray Bradbury kind of way. No giant monsters or mad slashers, just an insidious descent into a self induced trance. My brain was being destroyed while my eyes were feasting on Brad’s good looks. I heard later on he is a schmuck from a regular watcher, but hey Reality TV is a lot like college. We are pretending to go for knowledge but it is really just an excuse to look for the next party.
As I watched Brad on a couch with his choice I kept wondering why does the guy get to choose? Later on I learned there is the same format for a reality show where the woman gets to choose. Is this true? Is this for real? I mean really, this seems like a rather difficult way to find a mate. Can’t these people go to a bar like I did? Hey, I have been married for almost 17 years. The bar scene works. Ahhh, but alas, no audience was there to watch me go on thousands (I am not exaggerating) bad blind dates, or sappy singles events organized by strangers. The only one watching my silly life unfolding was my mom and I assure you she never found it entertaining.
But Brad and the bevy of beauties begging for his narcissistic ass to be theirs for the kissing had a loyal audience. Millions of Americans watched as Brad and bimbo after bimbo, oops I mean bathing beauty after bathing beauty, soaked up the sun and experienced fabulous adventures called “dates”. I am guessing most of the audience was female, and I would feel perfectly safe in assuming (yes another dangerous sport that does not help with weight loss) that no one watching the show ever went on a “date” where they get to fly to another continent and ride on an elephant. Who would not feel wooed? How does Brad afford it all? Oh, wait, he doesn’t. It is the newest version of “Dutch Treat”, a major television network foots the bill for the dates and all you have to do is be very good looking to go.
Why exactly was Brad “chosen” to be “the bachelor”? He is movie star handsome. You see men are not the only ones who like to gaze upon physically superior beings with whom they will never be able to copulate. Hip Hip Hooray for Women’s Liberation. Brad is the male equivalent of a Playboy Bunny. In the good old days one never heard the Bunnies speaking. Their silence was as much a part of their costume as their cottontails and ears. Now we get to hear Bunnies thanks to Hugh Hefner sharing his life (reality hits again). This is why we have shows like the Bachelor. Male Bunnies are demanding equal time and pay.
Oh how I miss the good old days where the picture perfect people lay their one-dimensional lives in between the pages of magazines. Really, I do.
Monday, March 14, 2011
The Bitch is Back
I am at the apple store with Steve for a one on one, not that kind of one on one. It is the kind of one on one where a 25 year old tells an old lady how to maneuver on a computer. It is sad but true, I used a reference to an old Elton John song for the title of this post and Steve had no idea what I was referencing. He also let me know WordPerfect is no longer available and I am actually using Microsoft word. Next thing you know he will be helping me cross the street.
See you tomorrow. I am going to learn how to take this out of Microsoft Word (aka Wordperfect for those of us over 50) and put it on my blog!
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Just my luck
Hello World,
I am typing on an Apple Mac. And I just found out Steve Jobs is happily married, damn it.
Monday, August 30, 2010
Elephants, Part I
I have a friend who keeps reminding me I have not written on my Blog since July 8th. I have been writing a lot actually, inside my head. I just don’t bother writing it down or typing it in the computer. The words are always floating around. They string themselves together like strands of pearls and I turn them into imaginary necklaces only I can see hanging (around my neck, like a noose).
I am not really inside my own body. I have written about this before. I may be repeating myself. I may be repeating myself. I am definitely repeating myself. I don’t want to go back and search through all my old blog entries to see if I have written and posted this material before. Besides, even if I did, who is going to remember? The two or three real people who read this blog or my imaginary friends (they last a life time) who are talking to me right now: “Oh, good lord, we have heard this one before. Yada Yada Yada, tell me something new.” I guess my imaginary friends watched Seinfeld. I would respond to my many imaginary friends (I am very popular inside and outside of my imagination)
“Don’t Yada Yada Yada me! I need motivation, I need spiritual guidance. I need Yoda Yoda Yoda.”
So, when Paul (a real person) threw out an idea, “write about Facebook,” while I appreciated the prompt I was hoping for something more. I wasn’t sure what or how to ask for it. Facebook has been overdone, to say the least. I am trying to stand out, write something unique and profound that will get me energized to produce even more.
Then I remembered, all Roads Lead to Rome! I just saw “Eat, Pray, Love”. I thought the movie was okay. I thought the men in it were really hot. Oh yeah, the meaning of the movie, I almost forgot…(now you can see why writing is so difficult for me. I am all over the place mentally). If I can’t follow a train of thought, how can I construct a piece of writing someone else will be able to follow? Are you still with me?
Okay, back to the movie, “Eat Pray Love”, and the lessons it was supposedly sharing with the rest of the world. I think the main lesson was about deep breathing. I deep breath, usually when I am making obscene phone calls, but it has yet to provide me with the keys to the doors of knowledge Julia Roberts as Elizabeth Gilbert is finding all over the globe. So much for breathing, but I will continue to breathe anyway because even if it doesn’t enlighten or motivate me, it does allow me to keep tapping these keys.
Another key element in the movie spoke to me on a more personal level. Yes, more personal than heavy breathing during obscene phone calls. I think I am procrastinating. I am doing things, just not the things I think I should be doing. I think I should be writing a book of short stories or a novel, or essays to mail to magazines. But instead, I took a stand up comedy class (YouTube: StandUpShowcase7). I agreed to teach some children’s classes for a local business. I started obsessively playing Banangram with my 11 year old daughter. I wish Banagram had a solitaire version for the hours when my daughter is in school. I never develop a strategic plan because I cannot choose a goal. No goal, no plan. It is simple. I hop from goal to goal like a hooker hops in and out of cars on a busy night.
In the opening scene of the movie, it shows the main character married to a man who just can’t find himself. He is thinking about all these different professions he could be pursuing, but he can’t commit to any one of them. I feel his pain. I think the movie and its author/lead character had three main points to share.
l. Deep Breathing – yeah I do it all the time. Hasn’t helped.
2. Can’t find myself or choose a clear path for a profession. I am so glad I did not marry Elizabeth Gilbert, the woman who wrote “Eat Pray Love”. She dumped her indecisive husband like a hot potato. My dedicated husband encourages every New Adventure I come up with and there have been many:
A business to help care givers
Writing
Stand up comedy
Selling things (don’t ask, don’t tell).
So here we are still married and living off only his income (I have no idea how we are going to pay for college for two kids – next job idea: “would you like fries with that?”) But the truth is, eventually I need to find a way to pitch in financially. I am done producing humans/children and now I need to produce an income. My timing could not be better. We are knee deep in a recession and America is on the road to becoming a third world country. Hopefully our desire for fries will be unabated. I guess I can always learn to clean the grill. I am more worried about how I will get along with my co-workers and the customers. I never did win any congeniality contests when I had to work in an office environment. Perhaps that is why I am determined to find a way to make money without having to deal with the politics of being in public. Which leads me to the third and most important point of the movie.
3. Wait a Minute! There is an Elephant in the Room:
In the movie Julie Roberts as Elizabeth Gilbert buys a Ganesh Elephant icon at an idol store. It is part of the Hindu religion which is not monotheistic. I have no business thinking about icons since in my religious background, they were nothing but trouble! No idols allowed. I don’t even watch American Idol. That is how afraid I am of worshiping anything I can actually visualize. Keep it blurry – cloudy. The lord is around us and within us. Do Not attempt imagining or personifying G-d in any way or someone is going to throw two big stone tablets on top of your head!
Okay, but my religion does not prevent me from attributing deep meaning to symbols and signs that pop up, does it? I am wearing a Jewish Star. I tied a red ribbon around the cribs where my babies slept and I even tied one around my mom’s hospital bed. I kiss the Torah as it is passing me by on High Holidays. And my own mother said if you “want your prayers answered, say them while the ark is open and your prayers will be answered. I got a husband by sticking a note in the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem (it is TRUE). So I am back to the premise presented in the book the Celestine Prophecy. There are no such things as coincidences. Pay attention. Everything means something. You just have to look a little deeper, between the lines, under the layers, and inside the molecules. A writing instructor once told me the key to good story telling was in the details. And remember, I am looking for the keys. So come back tomorrow for part II of my version of Eat, Pray, Love. I have decided if I cannot come up with a unique idea on my own, I will just steal someone else’s and customize it so it is no longer recognizable to the viewing public (real and imaginary). And that is my final decision. I think. Good thing I wasn’t watching the Godfather over the weekend. Who knows what this post would have looked like.
I am not really inside my own body. I have written about this before. I may be repeating myself. I may be repeating myself. I am definitely repeating myself. I don’t want to go back and search through all my old blog entries to see if I have written and posted this material before. Besides, even if I did, who is going to remember? The two or three real people who read this blog or my imaginary friends (they last a life time) who are talking to me right now: “Oh, good lord, we have heard this one before. Yada Yada Yada, tell me something new.” I guess my imaginary friends watched Seinfeld. I would respond to my many imaginary friends (I am very popular inside and outside of my imagination)
“Don’t Yada Yada Yada me! I need motivation, I need spiritual guidance. I need Yoda Yoda Yoda.”
So, when Paul (a real person) threw out an idea, “write about Facebook,” while I appreciated the prompt I was hoping for something more. I wasn’t sure what or how to ask for it. Facebook has been overdone, to say the least. I am trying to stand out, write something unique and profound that will get me energized to produce even more.
Then I remembered, all Roads Lead to Rome! I just saw “Eat, Pray, Love”. I thought the movie was okay. I thought the men in it were really hot. Oh yeah, the meaning of the movie, I almost forgot…(now you can see why writing is so difficult for me. I am all over the place mentally). If I can’t follow a train of thought, how can I construct a piece of writing someone else will be able to follow? Are you still with me?
Okay, back to the movie, “Eat Pray Love”, and the lessons it was supposedly sharing with the rest of the world. I think the main lesson was about deep breathing. I deep breath, usually when I am making obscene phone calls, but it has yet to provide me with the keys to the doors of knowledge Julia Roberts as Elizabeth Gilbert is finding all over the globe. So much for breathing, but I will continue to breathe anyway because even if it doesn’t enlighten or motivate me, it does allow me to keep tapping these keys.
Another key element in the movie spoke to me on a more personal level. Yes, more personal than heavy breathing during obscene phone calls. I think I am procrastinating. I am doing things, just not the things I think I should be doing. I think I should be writing a book of short stories or a novel, or essays to mail to magazines. But instead, I took a stand up comedy class (YouTube: StandUpShowcase7). I agreed to teach some children’s classes for a local business. I started obsessively playing Banangram with my 11 year old daughter. I wish Banagram had a solitaire version for the hours when my daughter is in school. I never develop a strategic plan because I cannot choose a goal. No goal, no plan. It is simple. I hop from goal to goal like a hooker hops in and out of cars on a busy night.
In the opening scene of the movie, it shows the main character married to a man who just can’t find himself. He is thinking about all these different professions he could be pursuing, but he can’t commit to any one of them. I feel his pain. I think the movie and its author/lead character had three main points to share.
l. Deep Breathing – yeah I do it all the time. Hasn’t helped.
2. Can’t find myself or choose a clear path for a profession. I am so glad I did not marry Elizabeth Gilbert, the woman who wrote “Eat Pray Love”. She dumped her indecisive husband like a hot potato. My dedicated husband encourages every New Adventure I come up with and there have been many:
A business to help care givers
Writing
Stand up comedy
Selling things (don’t ask, don’t tell).
So here we are still married and living off only his income (I have no idea how we are going to pay for college for two kids – next job idea: “would you like fries with that?”) But the truth is, eventually I need to find a way to pitch in financially. I am done producing humans/children and now I need to produce an income. My timing could not be better. We are knee deep in a recession and America is on the road to becoming a third world country. Hopefully our desire for fries will be unabated. I guess I can always learn to clean the grill. I am more worried about how I will get along with my co-workers and the customers. I never did win any congeniality contests when I had to work in an office environment. Perhaps that is why I am determined to find a way to make money without having to deal with the politics of being in public. Which leads me to the third and most important point of the movie.
3. Wait a Minute! There is an Elephant in the Room:
In the movie Julie Roberts as Elizabeth Gilbert buys a Ganesh Elephant icon at an idol store. It is part of the Hindu religion which is not monotheistic. I have no business thinking about icons since in my religious background, they were nothing but trouble! No idols allowed. I don’t even watch American Idol. That is how afraid I am of worshiping anything I can actually visualize. Keep it blurry – cloudy. The lord is around us and within us. Do Not attempt imagining or personifying G-d in any way or someone is going to throw two big stone tablets on top of your head!
Okay, but my religion does not prevent me from attributing deep meaning to symbols and signs that pop up, does it? I am wearing a Jewish Star. I tied a red ribbon around the cribs where my babies slept and I even tied one around my mom’s hospital bed. I kiss the Torah as it is passing me by on High Holidays. And my own mother said if you “want your prayers answered, say them while the ark is open and your prayers will be answered. I got a husband by sticking a note in the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem (it is TRUE). So I am back to the premise presented in the book the Celestine Prophecy. There are no such things as coincidences. Pay attention. Everything means something. You just have to look a little deeper, between the lines, under the layers, and inside the molecules. A writing instructor once told me the key to good story telling was in the details. And remember, I am looking for the keys. So come back tomorrow for part II of my version of Eat, Pray, Love. I have decided if I cannot come up with a unique idea on my own, I will just steal someone else’s and customize it so it is no longer recognizable to the viewing public (real and imaginary). And that is my final decision. I think. Good thing I wasn’t watching the Godfather over the weekend. Who knows what this post would have looked like.
Friday, August 27, 2010
For Paul
This is dedicated to Paul. No, not my favorite Beatle, my friend!
Okay Paul, I hope you are happy. I have just spent 3 hours writing. I will have to edit and re- write and add a lot more later, but now I have to get on with my day. So I am unable to put anything up of substance at this time. I hope to have a better entry later but
I tried. I really tried. I sat and typed the whole morning stopping only long enough to put loads of laundry in and out of the washer and to reload my cereal bowl (one box of Cheerios and one box of Fiber One have bought the dust – or should I say recycle bin). But, I have other obligations. I am overweight and out of shape. I should be exercising. I have errands to run and bills to pay. This writing thing takes forever! I have been sitting here and the only parts of my body getting any exercise are my fingers. I guess I would save time and be more productive if I stopped eating dry cereal throughout the process, but I firmly believe every writer should be allowed one vice. I mean Hemingway and Williams had alcohol. Hey, now I know where I am going wrong! Damn it! I picked the wrong addiction. No wonder my writing sucks. I will write more later, now I have to jog over to the liquor store.
Love Benita
Okay Paul, I hope you are happy. I have just spent 3 hours writing. I will have to edit and re- write and add a lot more later, but now I have to get on with my day. So I am unable to put anything up of substance at this time. I hope to have a better entry later but
I tried. I really tried. I sat and typed the whole morning stopping only long enough to put loads of laundry in and out of the washer and to reload my cereal bowl (one box of Cheerios and one box of Fiber One have bought the dust – or should I say recycle bin). But, I have other obligations. I am overweight and out of shape. I should be exercising. I have errands to run and bills to pay. This writing thing takes forever! I have been sitting here and the only parts of my body getting any exercise are my fingers. I guess I would save time and be more productive if I stopped eating dry cereal throughout the process, but I firmly believe every writer should be allowed one vice. I mean Hemingway and Williams had alcohol. Hey, now I know where I am going wrong! Damn it! I picked the wrong addiction. No wonder my writing sucks. I will write more later, now I have to jog over to the liquor store.
Love Benita
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Last Comic Talking
I use to be good at memorizing and telling jokes. I always had good delivery. I guess I was the Dominoes of joke telling in my younger days. Yet, as time rolled on, my ability to memorize deteriorated and a sense of chaos overtook my neural pathways. Thus, whenever I am funny, it occurs like a car accident after a very long road trip. First, I am completely incapable of being succinct. Brevity is my enemy and I shall fight it to the very last word. Perhaps this is a genetic condition, a progressive incurable disease since it seems to be getting worse and worse with age. I take longer and longer to tell a story. It drives my husband crazy. I actually can see his eyes darting up and down, right and left trying to physically follow what I am saying. I bet my talking makes him dizzy.
“I thought I was going to hear about: FILL IN BLANK”. I can tell he is beginning to feel sick (the dizziness). I began speaking about one thing and then slowly shifted into twenty other unrelated details. “I am getting there I assure him.” All of a sudden we have switched roles and now I am the stubborn MALE who refuses to ask for directions even though I know I am as lost as Alice in Wonderland. “I will get to IT” I assure him. “Just wait, there details are important even if they don’t seem related.” Perhaps I tell stories this way because I have a poor sense of direction and cannot tell North from South or East from West, or North from West for that matter. So I need landmarks. I wish all McDonalds didn’t look alike. That would really help. Also, saying “take a left at the Gas Station” can easily become confusing if you are heading in the wrong direction to begin with. Where was I?
Oh, yeah, I signed up for a class. I am going “Back to School.” Hello Rodney!!! I need to find a way to make money and I don’t want to re-enter the work force in a “job”. I want to create a new way of “making a living” for myself. I just want to be able to make enough money to send two reasonably intelligent children through 8 years of college (I am thinking Graduate Degrees are going to be necessary).
I am not going to try and go back to my “previous profession” in fundraising simply because I never really “chose” that profession. It just found me after I couldn’t find myself after college. (Another Long Story – tune it tomorrow for what I think about “finding your passion ). And while being a full time mother has allowed me the luxury of shaping and nurturing (okay, sustaining) two children, it has turned into a zero sum/gain gig. What goes in, goes out, pocket book and otherwise. I guess I just summed up my marriage. Okay, so the alternatives are work in a regular job at a book store or some office somewhere (did I mention I have no computer skills other writing in word perfect) or going back to school to become an English Teacher or a Social Worker or….
A Comic! Yeah! Way more fun to have homework that tells you to watch comics on YouTube so you can see how they do it then it would be to go register at CLC or Harper . Why stay up reading books on how to teach and sit in lecture halls surrounded by people half my age (less than half if I am going to be honest about my age) who have been out partying half the night and still have better retention for facts and figures than I do. In the end, I would be job hunting for a teaching position in an economy that has caused all Stated and Local Governments to dramatically slash their budgets. I might get lucky and get a job, with insurance and benefits and the bull crap political tensions that accompany all work places. Or I can delude myself into thinking I could produce an income by standing up in front of a bunch of strangers talking endlessly while they drink and hope that on occasion I can make them laugh or drink more (after all that is how these clubs make their money, isn’t it?)
Where was I? Oh yeah. I signed up for a class on How to be a Stand Up Comic. One of the homework assignments was to post a joke on Facebook each day. But I don’t do jokes anymore. I can only do “stories” and hope people find something funny in them along the way. You see “the Long and Winding Road” the Beatles put me on in 1970 when I was only 10 years old did not lead me to just One Door, It is that long never ending door after door after door I find myself standing in front of… It went from being the Long and Winding Road I was on to the Long Winded Story I was always trying to spit out.
“I thought I was going to hear about: FILL IN BLANK”. I can tell he is beginning to feel sick (the dizziness). I began speaking about one thing and then slowly shifted into twenty other unrelated details. “I am getting there I assure him.” All of a sudden we have switched roles and now I am the stubborn MALE who refuses to ask for directions even though I know I am as lost as Alice in Wonderland. “I will get to IT” I assure him. “Just wait, there details are important even if they don’t seem related.” Perhaps I tell stories this way because I have a poor sense of direction and cannot tell North from South or East from West, or North from West for that matter. So I need landmarks. I wish all McDonalds didn’t look alike. That would really help. Also, saying “take a left at the Gas Station” can easily become confusing if you are heading in the wrong direction to begin with. Where was I?
Oh, yeah, I signed up for a class. I am going “Back to School.” Hello Rodney!!! I need to find a way to make money and I don’t want to re-enter the work force in a “job”. I want to create a new way of “making a living” for myself. I just want to be able to make enough money to send two reasonably intelligent children through 8 years of college (I am thinking Graduate Degrees are going to be necessary).
I am not going to try and go back to my “previous profession” in fundraising simply because I never really “chose” that profession. It just found me after I couldn’t find myself after college. (Another Long Story – tune it tomorrow for what I think about “finding your passion ). And while being a full time mother has allowed me the luxury of shaping and nurturing (okay, sustaining) two children, it has turned into a zero sum/gain gig. What goes in, goes out, pocket book and otherwise. I guess I just summed up my marriage. Okay, so the alternatives are work in a regular job at a book store or some office somewhere (did I mention I have no computer skills other writing in word perfect) or going back to school to become an English Teacher or a Social Worker or….
A Comic! Yeah! Way more fun to have homework that tells you to watch comics on YouTube so you can see how they do it then it would be to go register at CLC or Harper . Why stay up reading books on how to teach and sit in lecture halls surrounded by people half my age (less than half if I am going to be honest about my age) who have been out partying half the night and still have better retention for facts and figures than I do. In the end, I would be job hunting for a teaching position in an economy that has caused all Stated and Local Governments to dramatically slash their budgets. I might get lucky and get a job, with insurance and benefits and the bull crap political tensions that accompany all work places. Or I can delude myself into thinking I could produce an income by standing up in front of a bunch of strangers talking endlessly while they drink and hope that on occasion I can make them laugh or drink more (after all that is how these clubs make their money, isn’t it?)
Where was I? Oh yeah. I signed up for a class on How to be a Stand Up Comic. One of the homework assignments was to post a joke on Facebook each day. But I don’t do jokes anymore. I can only do “stories” and hope people find something funny in them along the way. You see “the Long and Winding Road” the Beatles put me on in 1970 when I was only 10 years old did not lead me to just One Door, It is that long never ending door after door after door I find myself standing in front of… It went from being the Long and Winding Road I was on to the Long Winded Story I was always trying to spit out.
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