Confessions

All the Starcraft forums I once dwelt on are dead and gone. Not once have I ever found another forum that I relate to. Don't get me wrong, it's cool here, but I've never felt more connected online than when we were all together for a twenty year old game.

 

I confess I have nothing to confess.

How dreary. I really must go out and seek illicit excitement someday when it's not raining and I don't have anything else to do.

 

I don't ever want to write anything that could reasonably be described as a manifesto.

 

You've reminded me of that "how to write a manifesto" joke that was going around a while back: https://www.kimmok.com/#/the-manifesto-manifesto/

 

I confess . . . many many years ago I did take a writing workshop class. It was so boooooooring!
In retrospect, the class made a lot of sense: all of the weekly exercises were well thought out, to teach us the basic workings of a story. Each week the following exercise built on the previous one, adding a new element of story to it. First week, we put two people in the same place, there was a conflict (of course! But at the time I didn't know). The following week, one more person joined in (why did this new person join? How would the other two react? Would the new one join forces with one of the two? etc.). And so on. It all made sense . . . except that it wasn't teaching me to ask the most important question in writing (at least for me): what is that I want to say with this story?

So I ended up feeling "is that it? Is that all writing is about?" It was so disappointing . . . Of course, the course was meant to teach elements of writing as a craft. I get that, and I don't think I had appreciated it enough at the time. But I find it difficult to think that anyone could write a good story without feeling anything--we write because we want to feel. How can you write a satisfying story only with the mechanics?

I came up with a story, many of them, but they had no meaning, I couldn't get involved and so they turned out unsatisfying. I thought I didn't have the skills to become a writer (even if just an amateur) . . .

 

I can't play the Cello

 

I took cello lessons for years. I still can't play the cello unless you'd thrill to a smashing rendition of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.

 

Depends on what you mean by smashing. Hey, Pete Townsend made it into an art form with guitars! And Hendrix lit his on fire onstage.

 

Nah, couldn't bring myself to actually smash or burn my cello. I'd like to sell it, but my musician husband has a thing about never turning loose of an instrument, even one he can't play himself.

 

Probably smashing as in the "smashing orangey bit" in the middle of a McVitie's Jaffa cake.

 

I buy pre-diced red onions because I don't like getting emotional in the kitchen.

 

Honestly I figured it had a double meaning, like Smashing Pumpkins. I'm assuming that's true for the smashing orangey bits too, like they're smooshey and also taste excellent.

 

I sharpen my knife before hand, and turn on the kitchen exhaust. Still

 

I keep putting the blade under running water every now and then. It helps, but not enough when you get one of those teargas onions.

 

I know what you mean. Some are okay, and others are just bad. I'll try the water thing.

 

You could try a pair of swim goggles.

 

Ready to chop onions.

 

I got a food processor. It limits the time I'm exposed to the agony of chopping.

 

I confess that it sometimes takes me a moment to distinguish between @Catrin Lewis and @Catriona Grace, but it's not my fault the first five letters of their forums handles are the same....

 

I appreciate your ability to rise to the challenge.

 

I miss fun, and being weird. Wonder what else I'll find myself missing.

 

I feel uncomfortable all the time. Like I don't want to be around people, but I want social interaction. I like my coworkers, but I can't wait to not be around them. I like free time, but then squander it.

Man, I want hugs.

 

I keep my stash and associated paraphernalia in a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles lunchbox.

 

In Illinois it's legal for anyone over 21, medical or recreational. My buddy keeps his in a tea tin that he hides in the pantry with all the other related tea and coffee stuff. I asked him why and he said that over thirty years of habit was hard to break.