It is What it Is

Some Small Site Changes

In the last few weeks, I've been working on some changes with the blog. While they might not seem obvious at first, I'm switching ad networks, which means I had to move a few things around. Any post that was previously sponsored in any way, shape or form (via free travel, free product, etc.) has now been moved to my alternate, ad-free site It Isn't Much.

So, in case you're really missing some of my college nostalgia and Volvo stuff, you'll need to head over there.

As always, thanks for reading, and you should have opinions about any of these changes, please feel free to leave your comments below.

Where To Go From Here?

I remember applying to colleges as one of the most stressful periods of my life. It seemed like so much -- my future career, earning potential and even life mate -- hung on the decision I made then. Not to mention the fact that I had tied my self-worth directly to the U.S. News & World Report ranking of the school(s) that accepted me.

Seven days before one round of applications was due, I had an emergency root canal (one the endodontist called the worst he'd seen "in ten years" of oral surgery). Full of painkillers and Valium (I do not do well around the sound of a dentist's drill), I called my best friend and insisted that she drive me to my closed-for-the-Christmas-holidays school, so that I could use the typewriter in the library to put some finishing touches on the common application. 

I was a little obsessed.

Welcome to 1984 (and Not in a Good, Footloose-is-Back-on-Top-of-the-Charts Kind of Way)

Sometimes I worry that I could easily become a conspiracy nut. (I realize that most people probably don’t have this on their list of concerns, but my worry list has always been longer, and stranger, than most.) I blame some of it on the fact that I spent most of my childhood watching soap operas, Phil Donahue and Unsolved Mysteries. There was even a brief – and unfortunate – period when I believed that Elvis faked his own death.

And despite what my occasionally rational brain tells me about accidents and coincidence, I think I’ve watched far too many political thrillers as an adult, too. (I still find it odd that one of the most liberal members of the Senate, Paul Wellstone, died in a plane crash shortly before some key votes under the Bush administration, but I try to keep this mostly to myself.)

However, I do not think I’m paranoid when I say that we are, at present, on the verge of living in the world created by George Orwell in 1984. But, it’s not big government we need to be afraid of -– it’s Facebook.

Even without the latest issues Facebook has had with privacy, revealing information to other web sources, etc., social networking has always had the potential to implement a kind of social control that no invading army or government entity is capable of. And the key to that societal control rests entirely in surveillance.

For an anthropology class nearly a decade ago (when I sat down on the first day and saw that half the room was full of athletes, I knew I’d found a good place to be), I read a book called Depraved and Disorderly. It’s a study of women in penal colonies in Australia (aka, the founding women of Australia), and for the large part, the book discusses how constant surveillance and the removal of all privacy was used to turn these “wild women” into the model citizens the English government wanted them to be at the time.

Writer's Block, Comedy and Insurance Companies

I tell my students that there' no such thing as writer's block. 

I claim that there is this: unwillingness to do the work (because writing is hard work and anyone who tells you anything different is lying), procrastination and fear. (The fear comes in when you worry too much that when you do actually write, what you write won't be good enough.)

I recommend all the tricks for getting started -- lists, clustering and the always-dreaded free-writing. (Free-writing = writing non-stop for a set period of time, and it is more than a bit trying on the brain and the hand.) I tell them to start in the middle if they don't have a beginning or an end. Or start at the end if there's no beginning or middle. I trot out one of my favorite books, Writing Without the Muse, for ideas and inspiration. 

I am so full of mettle, advice and, hopefully support, I just don't know what to do with myself.

There is always something to write, I say. It may not be profound, but as long as you can put pen to paper, there is always something to write. 

Shameless Self-Promotion

I try not to ask for much (apart from attention, cash, understanding and fame -- if you even count those), but I would really appreciate a small favor from the readers of this blog. (I'm sorry if this makes me a terrible person):

Please vote for me (story #1) at My Scoop's Valentine's Day Contest. It'd be the best V Day gift I've gotten since a single rose from the boy who gave everyone roses as part of my high school's Key Club fundraiser. 

Major Awards

I'm not one to let a chain letter die. (Are you surprised considering all this anxiety? I can't risk death by steamroller, exploding gas pipes or break-ups for failing to do something as simple as send a letter. P.S. Sorry e-mail contact list!) And while the "major award" is not a chain letter, I still feel like I have to keep it going.

Thank you, Tina, for bestowing this blessed honor upon me. I haven't won anything in a really long time -- unless you count the $20 Omaha Steaks gift card I received for all my coke rewards points, which I don't -- so I'm going to have to milk this one for all it's worth. Let me say that Tina is just one of the most awesome people I know. When we worked together at Lipstick, people used to ask if we were sisters. I took it as a huge compliment. 

Now, on to the first requirement of the award: I will now share five random facts about me. (I know, I know, as if you all don't know too much already. Is it hard to sleep yet?)

1. When I was little, I wanted to be an actress. I read biographies of Katherine Hepburn and Tallulah Bankhead for school projects. I attended drama classes, and I wrote and starred in my own plays. Then, I realized that I didn't like people looking at me. (Kind of an obstacle in that career trajectory.) Plus, I decided I couldn't deal with all of the rejection. So, I decided to be a writer. Great call on that rejection nonsense, right?

2. What I miss most in the Great Recession is my bi-weekly pedicures. I take great pride in my toes, and seeing them without color makes me sad.

In the News

If you were referred here from another site, like Media of Birmingham or The Terminal, you might be looking for these stories: This One Time at Camp ... and/or Lauren. Thanks so much for visiting!