It is the ten year anniversary of the blog group Blogophilia that started back on MySpace. I used to participate religiously and have since fallen off and on again, but I always mean to go back. Anyway, for fun I thought it would be fun to repost the very first blog I ever wrote for it.
September 24, 2009 – Thursday 1:42 AM
|Blogophilia 30.2 – The Pub Scene
Current mood: busy
Category: Writing and Poetry
So, I’ve read some of the Blogophilia posts before – Bobbi, Colleen, Crazy PJ’s etc, and I’ve considered giving it a shot before, but always put it off. However, DJ Myke very sweetly sent me an invite so I am going to give it a whirl this week 🙂
If you have no idea what Blogophilia is, then you want to check it out as it seems to be a lot of fun!
All right, on to it then.
Blogophilia 30.2 Topic: Get Me Off This Crazy Thing
The Pub Scene
Teddy, my best friend, grinned and asked drunkenly, “Aren’t you having fun?” We both knew from the expression on my face that it was a rhetorical question, so he asked another, “That Genevieve sure is hot, huh?”
“I guess, if you like the too-good-to-talk to you kind,” I murmured with no real enthusiasm. Still, my eyes flicked across the seedy little pub and found her among her circle of “better people”. That’s where she always was. Every weekend you could find her at one place or another with her giggling, overtly feminine friends and a crowd of blokes all chomping at the bit to get a chance at her. None of them ever did, though. But, with her black hair, dark eyes, perfect skin and curvy figure that was her prerogative, I suppose. Not that I noticed those attributes myself. Okay, fine, I did. She wasn’t bad looking. However, I wasn’t going to concede the point right then, nor point out that he’d been trying to get her for well over a year. I had other things to complain about.
“I can’t believe you talked me into coming. Do you realize I could be at the movies?’
Teddy snickered and took a swig of beer. “Oh come on. This is cooler than some fantasy geek fest movie made for losers”
“Losers?” I demanded. “I’ll have you know that nothing is cooler than bloody Conan the Destroyer?!? Especially not this – this –“ I broke off in frustration and shouted, “What is this music anyway?”
“Uh…” Teddy had to look around for a sign or something. “Comedy of Errors,” he declared triumphantly.
“Never heard of them.”
He grinned and suddenly turned into one of those annoying know it alls. “That’s because they’re new, you twonk. They’re from Glasgow, aren’t they? And I think they’re bloody brilliant.”
“Glasgow? Explains why they sound foreign then, doesn’t it?” Before he could launch into any further details – no doubt rehearsed so he could try to impress the ever unimpress-able Genevieve – I made some stupid excuse and hurried off through the crowd in the direction of the loo.
When I was sure Teddy wasn’t watching me anymore, I turned a sharp right and headed straight out the front door. It was cool out tonight, but not cold, and I was resigned to wait out there until my ride, Teddy, decided to go home.
I dropped onto a bench and lit a fag. I could still hear the music pulsing from inside. It rumbled through the bench and the wall like a living heartbeat. What a wonderful way to spend a ruddy Saturday night: sitting outside the damned pub waiting for Teddy to get rejected.
I was on my third smoke when the door opened. I looked up hopefully, but it was just the beauty queen Genevieve. She walked a few steps then stood in the middle of the sidewalk uncertainly. I waited for her usual entourage to appear and guide her to the next destination, but they didn’t show.
She finally looked towards me. She blinked thoughtfully as she took in my untidy hair and – what I thought was very fashionable – outfit. Okay, it wasn’t the height of 1984 garb, but it would have been really cool in 1982. I was pretty close. That had to be worth some bonus points.
She stepped towards me, then stopped again, uncertainly. “Hey, you’re that bloke Teddy’s mate, right?”
“Sometimes,” I agreed. “When he’s not being a royal ass and making me miss Conan.”
Her dark eyes lit up. “You mean the new Conan the Barbarian movie?”
I was too stunned to speak, but she rushed on, “I wanted to go see that tonight but everyone wanted to come here.” She frowned. “It’s the same old thing every weekend. Just a lot of loud music and everyone getting pissed. It was fun a couple years ago but I’m over it now.”
I found myself nodding along to her. “Yes, exactly. It’s like we’re still in school or something. “
“And they’re all alike,” she continued. “Every blasted one of them. All big shoulders, no brains and want their hands in your knickers.” She suddenly jabbed an accusing finger at me. “Your mate Teddy’s like that.”
I held up my hands innocently. “I already told you, he’s nothing to do with me so long as he’s being an ass.”
“Then I can’t imagine how you’re ever friends.”
I tugged out another fag and lit it. “He’s okay on the weekdays. It’s just when he gets sloshed.”
She nodded vaguely and looked off into the distance, as though she had somewhere else to be. I can’t say that was surprising. No doubt Genevieve, the Saturday night queen, had a lot of other places to go.
She looked back at me, opened her mouth, closed it and then opened it again. She repeated the performance so that she looked like a ventriloquist dummy in a fit. Finally she spit the words out. “I don’t suppose you wanna go somewhere else?”
My eyebrow arched suspiciously of its own accord. It was really kind of sad that Genevieve the most wanted had to settle for getting a ride from me. “No car,” I offered with spread hands.
“Never mind,” she mumbled, and I settled back into a smug, self satisfied posture. I wasn’t the kind of sucker she was used to. I wasn’t going to fall for her little “I’m so pretty game“.
She turned back to me, her face determined. “I’ve got one.” Suddenly her hands were on her hips. “This is your last chance. I have no intention of spending another Saturday surrounded by a bunch of stupid, drunk pillocks, but if that’s what you want to do then be my guest. Otherwise get off your ass! If we hurry we can just make the late showing!”
My cigarette fell out of my gaping mouth and landed in my lap. I only noticed when the cherry burnt through my pants into my leg. Of course I jumped up like an idiot and proceeded to do the “I’m on fire” dance while I beat the scorched spot uselessly.
Genevieve giggled, but it wasn’t the “oh you’re so stupid” laughter I expected from her. It was more genuine amusement. I couldn’t help but smirk in self depreciating humor as I met her eyes and tried to sound like I had half a brain. “Sure. Yeah, I mean, that would be great-“ I realized I was babbling and broke off abruptly.
“Good. Come on,” and with those words she grabbed my arm and physically dragged me after her. She had a little car, but that didn’t stop me from folding myself into the passenger seat and pretending that it was the best ride I’d ever had. Hell, maybe it was. And maybe that was the best Conan movie they ever made. Or maybe it was just the best company I’d ever had. After all, it wasn’t everyday that someone like me got to go to the movies with Genevieve, the social queen of the pub circuit. And it certainly wasn’t every day that I got to slink into the flat I shared with Teddy at six in the morning, looking sheepish and refusing to say where I’d been.
Though after that night it did become a reoccurring occurrence. That is until I moved in with Genevieve the secret geek and the prettiest master of Dungeons and Dragons that ever graced a living room.
Call us sentimental, but we just had to get Comedy of Errors to play at our wedding.
And that’s it for now.
Song playing at the moment – “Soft Skeletons” – Anberlin
(PS- Comedy of Errors is a real band – I HAD to use them after i found that 😉 – here’s their website! )
We made it!!
Thanks to rain in Alabama, we were late, but the Harveys awesomely waited up for us.
The trip went well except for the rain. Arkansas waa fun.
Memphis was awesome:
Mississippi on the other hand…
Well, it was green…
But it was pretty much all Conifer trees. Lots and lots of conifer trees. I did not expect that. I don’t know what I expected but not that. I sort of think of those as a northern thing so…
We came into Alabama on a narrow road with no welcome sign. But Mobile was cool.
And now I must go. Have a non-Mississippi day.
I’m thankful for a lot of things today. First, I’m thankful for the pokemon updates that let me catch some crazy new pokemon:
And for the new evee evolutions.
And for catching enough Ekans to finally evolve one:
And for running into Captain America near St. Joseph, Missouri.
For not getting stuck in KC
For getting to stop in familiar territory.
For getting to visit with friends
For surviving the very strange alternating passing lanes
For making it to Arkansas
For getting a nice motel
And now for sleep. Have a Captain America kinda day!
Yesterday was Valentine’s Day. And though I was grateful to a FB friend for posting about Verizon’s new unlimited plans -we’ll save 25$ a month plus have unlimited data – I am using the surprise flowers from hubby as my Thankfulness for the day. He had already given me a penguin, so I assumed that was it.
And today I mostly packed and got ready for the trip – we leave for Florida tomorrow. Because I want to look nice in pictures and not worry about touching up my nail polish, which comes off after a day for me, I put on some jamberry.
They looked great, went on great, and fit great. Except they didn’t stick. I tried reheating, and they still fell off. I don’t have any nail glue, so I tried sticking it on with clear polish, but that didn’t work, so in the end I had this.
But on to the thankfulness. I’m thankful to the brother who helped me put on a second set.
This one stuck just fine but it didn’t fit as well and of course is not as well applied. That’s the way it goes, but at least they’re there.
And now I am an hour and a half late going to bed. Have a happy roses kinda day!
Wrote today. 3,000 words of it is unusable, but hopefully I got it out of a certain character’s system and we can move on. Other than that I did boring stuff, but I did make a rather tasty homemade chicken pot pie for dinner (the recipe came from Southern Living magazine. I made some adjustments to it, of course.):
I admit, I’m not sure if it was two-and-a-half-hours-to-make good, but hey, I’m still proud of it.
And now I’m going to bed.
Have a chicken pot pie kinda day!
Today I am thankful for hubby taking me pokemoning for a couple of hours. We just went to the park in Red Oak, where a lure was going. Apparently with the Valentines event, lures go for six hours (holy cats!)
So I walked back and forth between it and the other pokestop in the park. Thanks to that I got enough steps in to hatch some eggs, including a Machop that, with the double candy of Valentine’s event, gave me enough candy for an evolution:
I also caught a Ditto:
Yes, he’s a tiny ditto, but he is mine.
Along with the six hour lures and double candy, there are also lots of pink pokemon running around:
Can we say Jiggly Puff?
But, I think the crowning event was at the end. I have pokemon in three gyms, A Vaporean and Jolteon here in town, and a Rhydon in Stanton – that has been trapped there for a couple of months and will never come home to me. But I get a gold bonus for having them in gyms, so today we hit the ones in Red Oak, hoping to add a bit more to that bonus. Both were already red (as are we), but we battled up the first and I stuck yet another Vaporeon in it (it had three already). Then we went to the second where the line up was nearly identical, including three Vaporeons, with the exception of a Rhydon that made me miss mine even more. I battled that gym up, opened a slot, and went to pop a pokemon in – only it wouldn’t let me. Hubby suggested I restart, but that did nothing. And then a nasty suspicion dawned on me… Sure enough…
That was already MY Rhydon. He’s not in Stanton – he’s in Red Oak! Well who knew???
So, anyway, we cut off after that to come for WWE Elimination Chamber, only then hubby crapped out after the Cruze/Ziggler/Kalisto match, so we’ll have to finish watching it tomorrow.
Have a finding your Rhydon kinda day!
Yeah, so as you might know, I’m working on the last book in my series. There was so much that needed done in as few drafts as possible, that I spent two or three days sorting everything out and making an outline. It wasn’t a super specific outline, more like:
Go to such a place. Need to talk to so-and-so about what’s-and-all. Such and such needs to happen. Such info needs imparted for X reason. Go to another place.
You can see it’s pretty loose – but my characters still – STILL – cannot stick to it. Someone who was supposed to live – who was in fact integral for the ending – got themselves killed, someone who was supposed to die skipped out on it and are still trucking along, which has had a big impact future books (unless I manage to kill them later, which I doubt). An event that was supposed to come AFTER the final battle has already happened (and taken two chapters of aftermath that it wasn’t supposed to). They screwed up and left where they were supposed to be and are now in a completely different state than they were supposed to be in. People who were not supposed to show up until after certain conversations have appeared before those conversations have taken place. A confrontation scene vanished in the dust, and now the big scene that was supposed to come immediately following the last big battle has been ruined. They’ve barely stuck to anything at all!
This leads me to question why I even bothered outlining at all – and reminds me why I don’t normally do it – because my characters are bad, bad, bad and won’t follow directions!
I really shouldn’t blame them, though. I should blame my mom. Follow me here. When I was a little kid, my mom would tuck us in at night, and when she did she would “play teddies”, which was when she would talk our favorite stuffed animals. They would talk about their day, what they’d done, and what we were going to do after mom left and we went to teddy town. It wasn’t just at night, though. Sometimes she’d talk them in the daytime, too. Each stuffed animal – or teddy as they got called no matter what animal they were – had a distinct personality. Booy was naughty; he read comic books, carried a sling shot, skipped doing his homework, and got into harmless mischief. Clowny was the epitome of sweet; he never had a mean word, and only got angry once when someone picked on his friend and fellow clown Fatty. Doggie was Booy’s best friend and a budding chef. He was more serious than Booy, and tried to keep him out of trouble most of the time, unless it involved their favorite comic hero, Captain Teddy, and then he would skip off to conventions or movies. Annie was a Lucy van Pelt knock off, who spent quality time punching her little brother Andy for being bad and having tea parties with the other girls. I could go on (we had a huge cast), but you get the idea.
What does this have to do with my characters? I’m getting there. As we got a little bit older, part of the teddy game involved us talking the teddies – or in my case talking for them. I couldn’t do the voices, so instead I would just tell my mother what they said to me, like a third party narrator. But in order to tell her what they said, what they did, I had to understand each one’s personality. Annie would never do or say the things Booy would, just as Clownie would never do what Booy or Doggie would.
Thanks to that little game, I learned as a toddler how to make those characters into real people – as real as you or me. And they’re still real to me. Go on. Ask me what Booy did today (He skipped his chores and hid out reading his newest comic books and eating cookies), or what Clowny said about what he did (he looked sad and told Booy that when he skipped out it made extra work for others, which made Booy feel bad, so he tried to make up for it by offering Clowny cookies he’d had in his pocket all day – they’re okay so long as you pick the lint off). See?
The trouble is ,that magic wand of realness gets waved over a lot of my characters, including my vampires, and being real they’re convinced that they can do whatever they want, whenever they want, with no say from me, just as Booy didn’t ask me before skipping his turn at dusting. And since they feel empowered, they feel like they can ignore my neat outline and run amok, even when I yell at them to stop.
*sigh* Just blame my mom.
Have a teddy town kinda day!