Monday, July 29, 2013

movie mind

What is it about seeing a movie that makes you feel like you're in a movie afterwards?  Maybe it's just me.  Or maybe I'm not making any sense.  "Does that make sense?" Everyone I deal with in my job uses that expression.  I want to say/write back to them "Do you think I'm stupid?  We speak the same language.  Daaaaammmnn."

Back to the movie thing.  My theory is that you've been so recently involved in the movie itself -- the characters, their words, the music, the scenery, hell, the pageantry of film -- that you're enveloped in a post-movie experience zen.  Aware of your every step, the swivel of your head, the sound of your car keys jangling in your pocket.  Your thoughts are narrated by another voice, perhaps Academy Award nominated Morgan Freeman, and everything you're doing is damn interesting:

FADE IN.

EXT. STREET, RESTAURANTS, BOOK SHOPS, ETC. -- Late Afternoon

MAIN CHARACTER (name TBD), 40-something female, crosses the street at the light.  Dissolve to:  
EXT. PARKING LOT

Main character wistfully retrieves her keys from the pocket of her windbreaker.  Unlocks door and, smoothing her skirt, slides into the front seat.

MAIN CHARACTER

Gosh, that was a good movie. 

END SCENE

Didn't I tell you?

Monday, July 15, 2013

What was I saying?

I knew it!  Proof that my memory is crap.  I signed up (again) for Lumosity.com.  I set up email reminders this time so I will remember to log on to the site every day and take the tests.  Yeah.  That's why I quit the last time.  I kept forgetting to take the tests.

Surely I can improve on 42.3 percentile.  Right?  God, I hope so.  Come on neuroplasticity!

Hope I don't forget my account password...

Monday, July 8, 2013

hoppin'

I wish I had a photo of myself "hoppin' mad" but then as a supposed writer, I should let my words do the talking.  Not a photo or a copyright-infringed internet photo.

I'm easing back into writing stuff, you see.  Back to writing group next month, finish some stories, review some stuff I might consider submitting, that.  So, I pulled up my trusty submission spreadsheet on google docs, which I hadn't opened since November and was surprised to see that there were three journals from which I'd not received a yea or nay reply.  Huh.  That was last summer, man!  What gives?  I checked one via their submission system.  There was simple, the puny, tiny-ass font word: decline.  Oh yeah, well, decline you too!  Thanks for the rejection letter!  Oh, right you Didn't. Send. One. 

The other two journals were email submissions so I sent an email to each of these editors.  I hope I'll hear back.  Or find out the journal folded.  Or something.  But really, how rude.  Look how much I'm using italics, for Christ's sake.  I told you I was hoppin' mad!  Submitting and getting rejected isn't hard enough.  Being ignored really...bites...er, stinks, er, gets my goat! You can keep that damn goat, too Plain Spoke, Watchword and Indiana Review.  That's right, I'm naming names. I'm not afraid.

You want some o' this?