Okay. If you hadn't guessed, this is a MAJOR rant.
you know that little cartoon character with the big brown eyes, purple backpack and singing map? You know, the one with the cute little voice that sings, and finds stars with the help of her best monkey friend (who's name is boots by the way)
Well, if you hadn't guessed, her name is dora the freaking explorer, and she's making me want to be extremely violent atm!
I have a three year old who'd decided she *only* wants to speak spanish (i'm in australia, where the heck is she gonna use that???) and who keeps randomly screaming out every word she knows like Mr Bean does in that episode where he's singing at church and only belts out the chorus.
then my 18 month old, who is only using one word sentences, is now saying 'backpack' in the most retarded way, and then laughing hysterically everytime she does it. Now if it weren't so cute that she was cracking herself up, i woulda gagged her with the pacifier by now, and yes, possibly used a sock to keep it there!
and you know what's even better? my charming husband, who thought he was being so sweet and thoughtful, has brought home a freaking 95 minute dora DVD!!! which has already been played three times today!!!
my current facebook update says something along the lines of wanting to rip my eye balls out and shove them down my ears. i would say that i should just be thankful for the peace, but really, when i'm getting half coherent spanish and hysterical laughter combined with a screeched 'backpack' there's not much peace to be had.
somethings going to go over the balcony if this doesn't stop, and somehow i think the girls would rather it me than their precious dvd. i'm thinking i need to fake a blackout.
*serenity now* *serenity now* *serenity now*
i was down stairs and discovered my stash of old stories hidden away in a box of folders, the material dating 6-11 years ago. this might not sound that big of a deal, but when you're 23, it is! i sat down and read through it all, the pieces varying in length, view points, genres and draft stages. i could tell instantly how much i'd improved (yay for me!) but at the same time i wanted to cry. i was absoloutly crushed. i went back upstairs, flicked on my lovely pink laptop (oh yeah, its pink!!!) and read through my work from these last few months (my first lot since i stopped six years ago)
it was absoloutly passionless. there's no heart in any of it. i'm writing a love story that has no heart, and you can feel it.
i'd always thought my weakness was in cluttering my work with descriptions - so i worked at it and made it better, leaving SPAG as my main offender (which you can probably tell by this post ) It wasn't until i'd had something else to compare my current stuff with that i realised the state it was in!
It was easy to connect with my old work and feel the emotion behind the words but a robot may aswell be writing my latest stuff - at least it would get the spag right! i know a lot of stuff has happened over the last few years, and i've been working on not being so emotionally distant from the family and friends around me, but i honestly didn't realise how badly this had affected all of me - even my writing.
so now i'm feeling motivated to try harder to express myself and let myself feel things in everyday life... if its showing this badly in my writing, i shudder to think what i've been showing physically to the people around me. i even called my mother to talk... but she didn't answer the phone... but hey, i get a point for trying right?
anyway - moral of todays story - i thought i knew my flaws as a writer but i was wrong. my personal life DOES have an affect on my writing style (as much as i hate to admit it)
better me = better writing.
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