Tag Archives: blogging

50,000 Words!!! Yay!!! Oh, wait….

grimreaperscrabble

In my bloggy absence over the past couple of months, between recuperating from my near-death experience and changing jobs, I have cranked out about 50,000 words. Oh, no – not a novel or anything like that. Not an anthology of beautiful short stories nor a load of lyric loveliness.

No, by my rough estimate this morning – I have put together 50,000 words. Playing Scrabble on-line. And not that shabby imitation “Words with Friends” crap. Real(?) by-God virtual Scrabble.

50,000 words – One stinkin’ word at a time. I’m in deep, kids. Really deep.

In real life (you remember real life, don’t you?) very few people want to play Scrabble with me. I am insufferable. I must win, I play defensively, and know a lot of obscure words. Imagine my pure joy when I discovered the Scrabble app for my Android tablet. An endless supply of unwitting victims. I could play anonymously, so that no one would know it was me and avoid my invitations to a letter-tile smackdown. I grinned and rubbed my hands together in evil anticipation of the word whuppin’s I was about to lay down. And lay down I did. And did. And did. And without any freakin’ Scrabble Cheat apps, thank you very much. (Yes, Player 2218 I am talking to YOU).

First thing in the morning, with the sickly glow of the tablet illuminating my puffy eyes, I checked to see whom I was currently flogging with my little virtual wooden-letter weapons. Before bed – nay, even in bed – my bloodshot eyes checked to make sure that I wasn’t missing a turn to play a carefully-crafted pure-genius move that would propel me to a 200 point lead against some poor sucker (12 points). BwaHaHaHaHaaaaaaaaaaa.

Of course, I often encountered mental midgets like Player 3233 whose best word was “turds” or Player 7825 who used both the blank tiles for the letter K to spell “dick” twice in the same game. Or Player 1999 who joined both “anus” AND “vagina” on a double word score (Brilliant!!). I have screenshots of these offerings, but WP isn’t letting me upload this morning. You’ll just have to trust me on this.

And then…and then. I saw HIM. There on the bottom of the playing board.
 
happy teacher

Teacher. He looked like Alex Trebek, if Alex Trebek’s face was a wooden letter tile. He knew words – rich, high score, valuable words. He smiled sweetly and offered encouragement whenever I made a brilliant play. Like a giddy schoolgirl with a crush on her male middle-school Algebra I teacher, I lived for his praise. I was on a roll! I could not get enough of my new square-jawed lover. In addition to trouncing my feeble-minded competitors (not you, Player 3345, you are da bomb!), I resumed showering and changed into clean pajamas before ever opening that app again. I might have even applied lip gloss. When I was properly groomed and primped (18 points), I had only to click on his face to see my new main squeeze (45 points).

And as was inevitable (31 points) I disappointed my new paramour (18 points) soon enough. I played the word rivet (12 points). He frowned. “Hmmmm, let me show you what you missed” he said.

unhappyteacher

He played “erective” on the board (92 points). Wait, wait a darned minute. Did he just raise his eyebrow? What the?…what?

I was crushed. Within days Teacher had disapproved of many of my word offerings – showing me missed opportunities to play the words siemens, augite, sarkier, fique, kraters, hazan, flinkite, nutant, feod, flanerie, groanful, uranitic, kuias, miaoued, poovy, scungy, braii, gju, and arctoid (88 points).

It was over between us. Fique gju in your scungy feod, Teacher. You can kuias my poovy augite. Even though he remained at the bottom of the playing board, I never again tapped his wooden face in a quest for his approval.

I estimate (you have to sign in with your real name to get real stats) that I won 98% of the games I played (Damn you, lorrencowen – I’ll beat you yet!). I also estimate that I had as many as 150 games active at one time (the app only shows the 25 most recent games played). As of this morning I am down to 8 games and as soon was the opponents either succomb (30 points) or forfeit (13 points) I am done (5 points). Seriously (13 points). I mean it (2 points).

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Reports of My Death Are Greatly Exaggerated – Part 2

Last month I wrote a post about a dream I had where my mother (long deceased after a short and troubled life) visited me for tea.  That post was the culmination of a long stretch of days (weeks, really) fraught with deepening sadness and mostly sleepless nights that were punctuated by haunting dreams.  That post was Freshly Pressed, and after replying to comments and visiting the blogs of old and new followers and other passersby, I vanished from the blogosphere for a while.

But life went on.  Each morning, when I hoisted a 90 pound book bag into my vehicle for the trek to the educational emporium which employs me – this guy would be staring at me…

Maybe today is the day...she's moving slower...it won't be long... (Photo credit:  k8edid)

Maybe today is the day…she’s moving slower…it won’t be long…
(Photo credit: k8edid)

But life went on. In an epic battle – serotonin wrestled with norepinephrine about whose job it was to cheer me up, and after coming to the conclusion that joy was highly overrated – both neurotransmitters waved sayonara and abandoned ship, leaving me with a desire to punch everyone (including sweet little old ladies) in the throat; sleeping about 3 hours a night, and wishing my mom would come back and take me with her.  (PLEASE NOTE:  I am okay, really).

But life went on.  I started feeling a little better, sleeping became my new hobby, and writing seemed like a vague memory of something I used to enjoy.  My neurons stopped twitching. I began to see hope and joy in simple things, and felt like I was making a slow, if somewhat wobbly, recovery.  Then I checked the mail.  I’d received an invitation.

Scan0001

To a funeral home.

Related Post:  Reports of My Death are Greatly Exaggerated (Part 1)

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Thinks and Thanks Giving

When I was young (about 1,000 years ago) my mom would explain, in a patient and loving way, the errors in my way of thinking by telling me “you have another think coming”.  As in “If you think you’re wearing that miniskirt to school, you’ve got another think coming”.

Thanksgiving at the Trolls

Thanksgiving at the Trolls (Photo credit: martha_chapa95)

So today, I’m going to give out a few thinks, and a great many thanks.

To the patron at WalMart this morning at 6 AM (don’t ask.  Well, okay, I said I would bring homemade dinner rolls to our friend’s dinner but forgot to check my yeast supply):  If you think wearing a heavy jacket, gloves, daisy dukes and flip-flops is a fashion statement – You’ve got another think coming.

To the cashier at WalMart:  If you think drawing your eyeliner to the hairline at your temple is a good look for you (or anyone) – You’ve got another think coming.

To the Black Friday Shoppers – if you think that is the best way to support our economy – buying cheap foreign goods at corporations that don’t even pay taxes – You’ve got another think coming.  I’m going to spend the day trying to find local businesses to support on Small Business Saturday.

 

Detroit Lions logo

Detroit Lions logo (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

To the Detroit Lions – if you think I’m going to spend another Thanksgiving watching you lose a football game – you’ve got another think coming.  I’m going to take a nap.  Or read a book.  Or anything else.

To my family – if you think because I moved away I don’t think about you every single day – You’ve got another think coming.  I think about you and miss you every single day.  Sometimes to the point I have to fight the urge to keep driving north on the way home from work.  Sometimes to the point I lay on the couch and cover my eyes with my arm and weep softly because my arms miss hugging you, my eyes miss your faces, my heart misses your hearts.

To my readers and followers – If you think I don’t appreciate this creative community – this outlet, the sharing of thoughts and feelings – you definitely have another think coming.  “Meeting” you all has broadened my horizons (and my backside from all this sitting at the keyboard and hours reading “just one more blog”).  And I appreciate you all.  You make me laugh, think, cry, learn and feel.  Where else can you get all that?

I hope you all have a Happy Thanksgiving.  If you think I’m going to count calories today – you’ve got another think coming.  On this Thanksgiving – I am so thankful for family, friends, work, play, and loose stretchy pants.

What are you thankful for?  Do you have any more “thinks” coming?

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Seven Deadly Sins Series – Pride/Vanity

Sculpture: Deadly Sins (Snowglobes): Pride, Pu...

Sculpture: Deadly Sins (Snowglobes): Pride, Pure Products USA, by Nora Ligorano and Marshall Reese, Eyebeam Open Studios Fall 2009 / 20091023.10D.55559.P1.L1.SQ / SML (Photo credit: See-ming Lee 李思明 SML)

Hey – It’s Baaaaaaaaack.  The Seven Deadly Sins Series.  A simple little writing competition, or the Dave and Lorna Show as it is affectionately called.

Simple contest – simple rules – see the guidelines over to the right.  Right there.

Some sources list “Pride”; some list “Vanity”.  You may use either or both.  Hey, it’s your entry…

I’m going to start writing my entry (which won’t be entered into the contest) tomorrow.  I hope to see your entry soon.  I’ll post the entries in batches as they are received.  Voting is done by an elite panel of judges, in conjunction with the submitting authors (judging by peers).  It really is a lot of fun.

Come on, take a stab at it!!!

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Reports of My Death Are Greatly Exaggerated

Although, about Thursday evening, I might have asked for someone to at least check my pulse.

Actually, what was greatly exaggerated were reports of my recovery after surgery.  After an initial, but brief, surge of energy and enthusiasm, I once again was faced with an extreme lack of energy, an overwhelming amount of work to do, and a body that couldn’t live up to what my brain conceived as possible.

For once in my life, I have decided to listen to the body that screams “Stop”.  Fortunately, I have assistants at work who won’t let me lift anything heavier than a soup spoon, who anticipate my needs taking care of things as they did while I was on sick leave, and who send me home early.  I have students who remind me to sit instead of pacing in front of the classroom, and a husband who shoulders the responsibilities of caring for a mouthy, non-compliant patient at home.  I am resting whenever possible.

I am taking another week or two to recover and regroup.  I will be back soon to continue the “Deadly Sins” series and regular posting.  I hope that you will all come back.

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