(no subject)
I have been taking online typing tests off and on today, trying to push my score from 60 up to 68 up to 70 and finally got a high score of 75. I feel like Steve Weibe in The King of Kong, which is the best documentary in the world.
okay it's not the best in the world...I've seen a lot of great documentaries actually. Which is funny, because I used to think documentaries were BORING. Documentaries and movies filmed in Black and White. Duh, it's not true!
But The King of Kong is a really great movie! Wait, that's not the subject of this post. Typing is.
Typing is fun and I love it. I love the sound of the keys like rain on a tin roof, spattering in an almost perceivable rhythm. But the whole time I'm typing these passages from The Wizard of Oz and Aesop's Fables and the Enchanted Typewriter, that little voice inside me which might be a soul is rolling its eyes (Yes, the voice has eyes) because I'm PROCRASTINATING AGAIN! I am so busy NOT chasing my dreams, it's ridiculous.
I want to write so badly. Whenever I read a really juicy piece of writing that little voice is actually WHIMPERING inside me. by the way, I use all caps because I can't figure out how to italicize text. It's whining and begging and scratching at the door because
A) it's gotta pee real bad
B) it hasn't had a proper walk in...oh...a YEAR! and
C) even though it's been neutered a bazillion times by that scissor-wielding bitch, Doubt, somehow it's grown 'em back and there's some heavy pheremones wafting under the door from outside.
And it's so silly...I have an addiction for books on writing. I buy books on writing like they are going to write a book for me, and when I read them there gets to be a heavy head on my knee, raising first one eyebrow then another. "can we can we huh huh?"
"I don't know...maybe tomorrow"
is the WRONG ANSWER! but it's my default mode.
maybe tomorrow.
tomorrow?
Jinx knocks down water glasses when he wants to go outside. He doesn't even ask anymore. He just...scoot...scoot...SMASH! or he rips out the cloth drawers of my knitting organizer. Once or twice he's even tapped the baby with his impatient claws and I had to put the smack-down in my loudest, meanest voice. THAT BABY IS NOT ABLE TO LET YOU OUTSIDE JINX WHAT WERE YOU THINKING I AM SO VERY VERY ANGRY WITH YOU!
but Jinx is still my best friend. My friend Jen lost her best friend Oozi while she was touring with her band, he got out and didn't come back, and I'm so sad for her. I want to knit her a kitty hat if there is time. I'm already halfway through two other projects but this is emergency?
The moral is:
Go watch the King of Kong: Fistful of Quarters
okay it's not the best in the world...I've seen a lot of great documentaries actually. Which is funny, because I used to think documentaries were BORING. Documentaries and movies filmed in Black and White. Duh, it's not true!
But The King of Kong is a really great movie! Wait, that's not the subject of this post. Typing is.
Typing is fun and I love it. I love the sound of the keys like rain on a tin roof, spattering in an almost perceivable rhythm. But the whole time I'm typing these passages from The Wizard of Oz and Aesop's Fables and the Enchanted Typewriter, that little voice inside me which might be a soul is rolling its eyes (Yes, the voice has eyes) because I'm PROCRASTINATING AGAIN! I am so busy NOT chasing my dreams, it's ridiculous.
I want to write so badly. Whenever I read a really juicy piece of writing that little voice is actually WHIMPERING inside me. by the way, I use all caps because I can't figure out how to italicize text. It's whining and begging and scratching at the door because
A) it's gotta pee real bad
B) it hasn't had a proper walk in...oh...a YEAR! and
C) even though it's been neutered a bazillion times by that scissor-wielding bitch, Doubt, somehow it's grown 'em back and there's some heavy pheremones wafting under the door from outside.
And it's so silly...I have an addiction for books on writing. I buy books on writing like they are going to write a book for me, and when I read them there gets to be a heavy head on my knee, raising first one eyebrow then another. "can we can we huh huh?"
"I don't know...maybe tomorrow"
is the WRONG ANSWER! but it's my default mode.
maybe tomorrow.
tomorrow?
Jinx knocks down water glasses when he wants to go outside. He doesn't even ask anymore. He just...scoot...scoot...SMASH! or he rips out the cloth drawers of my knitting organizer. Once or twice he's even tapped the baby with his impatient claws and I had to put the smack-down in my loudest, meanest voice. THAT BABY IS NOT ABLE TO LET YOU OUTSIDE JINX WHAT WERE YOU THINKING I AM SO VERY VERY ANGRY WITH YOU!
but Jinx is still my best friend. My friend Jen lost her best friend Oozi while she was touring with her band, he got out and didn't come back, and I'm so sad for her. I want to knit her a kitty hat if there is time. I'm already halfway through two other projects but this is emergency?
The moral is:
Go watch the King of Kong: Fistful of Quarters