Guest Blogging - A New Experience

A woman in my writing group and fellow blogger asked me to write a guest post on her blog "Judith Conte - Exchanging Ideas on Divorce, Parenting, Writing, and more." She is in the midst of a helpful series about how to parent through a divorce involving children. Click here to read my post titled "A Tale of Two Divorces." 

When I visited the blog this morning, I noticed someone had already posted a critical comment. Because I throw my heart onto the screen and expose myself to the world when I blog it wasn't easy to read without feeling a bit defensive. Then I realized, to put it all out there and start a dialogue is why I blog. The comment made me look deeper inside myself.

I thank Judith for this new experience. Follow this link to her blog: Judith Conte

Eat, Drink, And Be Merry

Eat, drink, and be merry for tomorrow you may die . . . or should we say eat, drink, be merry and it will kill you. Yes you, you with the potato chip half way between the herbed cream cheese and your mouth. Don’t you know that all the fine things in life are hazardous to your health? Those two tablespoons of luscious cheese you just consumed represent thirty-four percent of your daily fat value allowed by the nutrition police. Add another twelve percent from the chips and you’re halfway to the morgue. Eat broccoli instead. You’ll live longer. Why is no one cheering?

Fat is just the beginning. What about calories, sodium, high fructose corn syrup, and cholesterol? Was that butter we saw on your English muffin? STOP - don’t peal the banana. It will lead to obesity. What about the stash of chocolate chips in the cupboard behind the extra virgin olive oil? Oh, that’s right, dark chocolate is good for you. It reduces the risk of heart attack and cancer. It helps with math. Math? Wow! Get this, chocolate no longer causes zits. We found this on the Internet. It must be true.

Then there is the issue of food allergies. The top eight are: milk, eggs, peanuts, tree nuts, fish, shellfish, soy, and wheat. What’s left to eat? WARNING: there is peanut butter in those cookies you’re eating. It may be over in minutes if you can’t find your EpiPen.

We won’t weigh in on whether or not you should eat your pet chicken. White rice or brown, whole-wheat or gluten free, vegetarian, vegan, raw – pick your own poison.

There are risks you may not have considered. For example, don’t eat your toothpaste. The warning is right there on the label, “If more than used for brushing is swallowed, get medical help or contact a Poison Control Center right away.”

Enough with “eat” on to “drink.” Calories are still a factor here with any liquid you sip, but the bigger issue is how much alcohol can you drink before you get stupid or fall asleep. The real police care about the percentage of alcohol in your blood and you should too. Moderation equals a glass of wine or a pint of beer. Don’t even think about a whole bottle or six-pack.

One day the newspaper says alcohol is good for your heart. The next day the newspaper says it causes cancer. One day the newspaper says drink six mochas a day. The next day the newspaper says it will make you fat. If you decide to drink, stop reading the newspaper.

Now to address “merry.” Making merry with too much kissy-kissy can be bad for your health. Germs are the least of your problems. What if you’re hitched and the kissy isn’t with the person you’re hitched to or the person you’re kissy with is hitched to someone else. Check the national gun registration database before you engage in this dangerous behavior. Oops, that’s right there is no national database.

Making merry with words can kill you. Let’s say you’re a comedian and tell a dirty joke and someone reports you to the boss and the boss fires you and you can’t find a job and you are depressed and you decide there is nothing to live for . . . you get the idea.

Eat, drink, and be merry at your own risk. Don’t say we didn’t warn you.

At this point you may need to take a pill to calm your anxiety or settle your stomach. Don’t worry the water isn’t fluoridated yet.

Note: At my creative nonfiction class this week, we were given a minute to write down everything that passed our lips during the day. When the minute was up our assignment for next week was to write an essay based on the list. The above is the result.

Writing Class Incapacitates Writer

The eight week memoir class I enrolled in at The Attic Institute: A Haven for Writers ended this week. Now I'm incapacitated. I can no longer write because I might use a dead verb or adverb, tell rather than show, forget to include dialogue, or go on for pages about nothing of interest.

I sit down to write and my mind is blank. The stories are trapped in my head as visions without words or at least not the right words. I want to forget everything I learned and go back to writing like a naive amateur.

This isn't true. I want to learn how to write. Just not now. Not until I extract the stories from the depths of my memory. Proper or not, I am compelled to put words on paper. Life on paper.

Today I want to forget everything I learned and just write. Oh my, "just" is an adverb.