I finished my writing class this weekend. It was a great learning experience for me–boy, there’s a lot I didn’t know about humor writing! My instructor, Dave Fox, is a humor writer and a travel writer (damn those multi-talented individuals!), and he gave detailed and wise feedback on everything I wrote, as did my classmates. If you’re interested in humor writing or travel writing classes online, you should check out Dave’s Globejotting.com. I highly recommend him.
But man, I worked my (broken) butt off. Whew.
Between writing, editing, and polishing my own stuff, and thoughtfully (I hope) critiquing other classmates’ work and trying to be C-minus Mommy to the Minxes and D-plus wife to my husband, I’m feeling like an over-used tea bag.
Pushing myself out of my comfort zone does that.
That’s why I rarely do it, even though I know I should. I’m the biggest scaredy-cat in the world and I hate myself for it.
I also hate that I always apologize for everything, which I’m going to do yet again, for not having time to visit my favorite bloggy buddies the past few (many) weeks. I am Dana, and I am annoyingly sorry. Now that class is over, I hope to do better.
Pushing myself out of my comfort zone, even when the outcome is favorable, leaves me feeling emotionally crippled. My soul needs a wheelchair. And then to be physically crippled on top of that is just karmic assholery. You will be happy to know, though, that the Minxes think my broken-assed walk is hilarious. Whenever I walk around, they start making peeping/clacking noises because I am The Penguin. This, in turn, makes me laugh at their audacity. I am proud that they are audacious. We need more audacious in this world.
The result of being emotionally and physically crippled? I get Mindworm.
I wake up in the middle of the night and my mind starts racing, and I cannot turn it off. If you’ve been reading here long enough, you’ll know that the conversation goes like this:
Me: “Yo, Brain. Fuck off.”
Brain: “No.”
Me: “I need to sleep.”
Brain: “Not my problem, cupcake.”
My brain is a disobedient cretin.
For your amusement, and because I’ve been too gorked out busy to write a real post, I’ll share with you some items on my Mindworm list.
~my butt hurts like a *(&^%$$###%&^
~Oh man, is Miss D.’s book report due tomorrow?
~When is Thanksgiving? Crap. I think it’s early this year. What should I make? Sure as heck not turkey dinner, because turkey dinner sucks eyeballs.
~Things I’ve made in past years so they’re not contenders: Chinese feast, Greek feast, Mexican feast, Paella, surf and turf. Gaaaa. Can’t do Italian; Daddy doesn’t like it. German?
~Geddaheckouttahere. So not doing German.
~French? I don’t really like French. Dangit, I think I might have to go there.
~Mental Menu of French Food that Doesn’t Suck Eyeballs: Beef borgignonne, potato puree, some vegetable gratin thingy.
~Item to Google: French appetizers.
~Can I throw a hunk of Brie on a paper plate and get away with it? Dessert can just bugger off. I’m not making it.
~Thanksgiving is coming. Dear God. That means Christmas. Coming. Soon.
~Total number of items I know the Minxes want for Christmas: 0.0
~I’m at a payphone/trying to call home/All of my change I’ve spent on you… Dang you, Adam Levine!
~I think the hamster is depressed?
~Item to Google: depression in rodents.
~I need to pee, but I’m kinda too lazy to get up. What time is it? Can I hold out?
~ To Do List: schedule girls’ haircuts, call handyman, dang laundry, dang grocery store, buy wrinkle cream. Why are my To Do Lists always eerily similar?
~Add to Grocery List along with wrinkle cream: toilet paper, Pirate Booty, candles for Diwali
~Christmas cards. Noooooo!
~I think I’m going to have to wave the white flag and go pee.
~I’m at a payphone/trying to call home/All of my change I’ve spent on you… Dangit.
Scintillating things going through my head, eh? Well, when you live the Domestic Goddess lifestyle, that’s what you get. Very glamorous.
I love y’all. Hope you are well and hope to see you soon. Happy Tuesday and Happy Diwali to all of my friends celebrating today. We’ll be lighting our candles!
ps: Sorry for getting “Payphone” stuck in your heads. That song is sticky as heck.
pps: Did I just apologize again?
{ 54 comments… read them below or add one }
Congrats on the end of your course! I’ve never done something like that, but needless to say, I probably should. I also should probably stop apologizing as much as I do, but like you, I get mindworms and mentally overwhelmed and then don’t do much of anything but feel guilty and spill it out in random places. Okay, maybe that’s just me, but I get your point.
And even though I don’t have a broken butt, I do have a strained foot muscle that has left me crawling/hobbling around for two days. The cat is entirely too amused by this–no depression in this furry pet–and I hope that your hamster recovers from his own SAD. It is that time of year…
Abby,
How did you strain your foot? Hopefully schussing down the slopes in Russia with James Bond?
Quit apologizing. I love you just the way you are. Wait, did I just reinforce the apologizing behavior by saying that?
Erica,
I love a good enabler.
I’m not envious of your mindworm, but I am envious of your non-traditional Thanksgiving dinners and always have been. Maybe a tapas spread with lots of things like meatballs and mini-cocas/pizzas would work?
Elizabeth,
If there’s a tapas party, I’m coming to YOUR house. You are Tapas Queen.
Thank God I do food…I don;t have to be good at writing or cooking. I just need to share.
Seriously, you write good humor. How do I know this? Because I laugh with you, not at you. I am positive that I am not the only that thinks that-
I think you step out of your comfort zone often….If you want to step-out even more. I applaud you. I am chicken.
You are hard on yourself but good writers always are (smile).
Velva
Velva,
You are so adorable. Thank you for that nice comment. Although I do give you permission to laugh with me AND at me. My life is ridiculous.
Okay, I made a couple of typos in my comment above (sigh). Meant “don’t” Also, meant to say only “one”..
Forgive me.
Velva
Mind worm has struck because you refuse to do a traditional, white man, God Bless America Turkey dinner. Next a Mariachi band of Pilgrims is going to show up with colorful candles and fruit cakes, followed by ducks taunting you by shaking their colorful plumage….TRADITION!
Oh, congratulations on finishing your class. Awesome YOU. Buy yourself a new lipstick or nail polish! You WON!
Happy Diwali!
♥~
Katybeth,
I’d sell my left tit to see a Mariachi band of Pilgrims. Party!
ps: I bought myself more painkiller for my butt today…does that count?
Dana, congrats on finishing the course. You are too funny and cute :) Hope feel better soon. Hugs.
You have just taken every single idea that I’ve ever had for a humor column and rolled them into one hilarious story. Thanks a lot. No, really, don’t apologize.
Deb,
*sob* Sorry! ;)
I’m with you on the no-ness of Thanksgiving, let alone Christmas. It hurts to say the latter. I whispered. With my mind powers. I don’t know what the girls want either. Perhaps I should ask. I love audacity in children, especially when it’s actually funny (not when they’re being little assholes who don’t understand that whatever they’re doing is audaciously unfunny). I just made my Thanksgiving menu yesterday. It is fabulously traditional (with a few less than Thanksgivingsy things to boot).
Holy hell the pee. I promise you I’m going to soon have the worst UTI EVER. Yes. I hold it THAT long (at night and wide awake (but only at work)).
Glad you finished the course. My funnybone and I are excited.
Arnebya,
How did you know that I was going to get a UTI? This is the newest item on Litany of Woes. Broken butt and burning pee. Capital!
I think your funnybone is funnier than my funnybone, so don’t get too excited. I’m also pretty sure that my funnybone has Bursitis.
If you have to have that song running through your head, “listen” to the Tim Tebow version instead (google it!) Much funnier, and my kids have it memorized. They sing it all. the. time. Listen, go out for Thanksgiving. Just do it.
Patty,
Hi! I am so very, very afraid to Google that thing. Eeek! Tebow Mindworm! ;)
Congrats on the completion of your class! What an accomplishment!
My mindworm suggests Googling things 24/7. They must be related!
Jane,
Mindworm loves Google. It’s weird.
I would take a hunk of brie on a paper plate.
Dana,
You are officially then invited to my EuroTrash Thanksgiving!
How about a Thai feast? The girls and daddy-o would probably be okay with chicken satay and pad thai while you could spice up the rest!
Phoo-d,
How about you just come and cook for me? Hog fat pie! Hog fat pie! Love you, dear friend.
I love the idea of Brie on a paper plate for Thanksgiving. Made me cackle! Can I come over for that? My kind of meal :)
Jamie,
If you like Brie on paper, you are my kinda girl.
Precisely the reason I NEVER so those Stream of consciousness things: every one else is “I wonder if could save the world via …” and I’m “I think I forgot to reroll the inner bag of the Cheerios.”
P.S. That class? SOUNDS AWESOME.
Alexandra,
I know! Why are people thinking about saving the earth when there is wrinkle cream and toilet paper to purchase?
ps: Class was awesome.
I hate mindworm! He visits me sometimes, too…wish he didn’t!
…and no apologies needed, of course this is said by another apologetic!
Suzicate,
I apologize for your apologies, sister. :) xo
When I was a young lad I didn’t want turkey dinner for Thanksgiving either. My Mother would always ask me: “What would you like for Thanksgiving dinner this year?” She would ask me because I was the only one in the family that raved on her cooking, so nobody else mattered. I always said, “Pot Roast.” She would say, “wouldn’t you like a nice turkey dinner?” And I’d always say, “no, Pot Roast.” She would just sigh, and say, “okay.” It was always damn good, too with mashed potatoes and gravy, and hot rolls with butter. (And vegetables). So, TKW, what is wrong with Pot Roast?:-)
Daddy-O,
Because I always fuck up pot roast. Mama always tells me that it is dead easy and mine is always, “just like rubber, Henrietta.” I love you.
thanksgiving=wine (soda for the minxes), cheese and crackers and a old slab of chocolate cheesecake or other dessert of choice(s). minimal fuss, minimal cleanup, time spent w/ family instead – sounds like stuff to be thankful for to me and that is what thanksgiving is supposed to be about – right? :)
hope your butt feels better soon.
jacquie,
You bring the cheesecake, I’ll stock the wine cellar.
Mind worm! That %#*# has been hassling me too. Too much.
I’ve never heard of mindworm before but I sure recognise those types of conversation! There’s a whole heap more cuisines to be explored yet: Thai, Indian, Argentinian?! :)
idiosyncratic,
Daddy-O would love Argentinian, because that basically means meat and more meat. :) And empanadas.
Daddy-O has been to Buenos Aires and Bariloche, and he does indeed love Argentinian. There is absolutely Nothing like an Argentinian Parilla! Absolutely to die for!
I am trying to push myself too…I’m a scaredy cat as well. And that mindworm sounds eerily familiar…
Tiff,
Email me. I need to know about the pushing. From a fellow pusher. Wait, did that sound bad?
Ugh -the dreaded night time mindworm (I’m totally stealing your word here)….
Sherri,
Steal away. I will gift you with: I’m at a payphone/trying to call home… :)
Mindworm! I never had a name for those racing thoughts that plague me at night. I usually turn on the ID channel and listen to the narration of true crime stories or listen to BBC radio (but my little transistor needs replacing, so it is ID until I order a new one). Both block out my thoughts and I can usually fall asleep again – eventually. But when I have to throw in the towel, out comes my phone and I play Angry Birds until the sun comes up.
Peeing – I have realized it is better for me to get out of bed right away or it keeps me awake – either because I have to go or I am thinking about it – I can’t win so I give in.
Thanksgiving? Just this morning, my husband told me it is next week! What? I used to do a non-traditional Thanksgiving when my kids were young, but now? Let’s say that I give into the expectations of family members that have married into ours. I can’t wait until it is January!
Hope your bum is better soon.
It is scary to put yourself out there, especially for critique. Congratulations on finishing the class and taking the risk! Bravo! I love your writing :)
Robin,
I know–next week? WTF? How did this get away from us? I still have Mr. Skull from Halloween on my porch!
Robin,
I’m having trouble commenting on your blog? It keeps coming up WordPress Error? Are any of your other readers having issues? Just wanted to let you know…
I don’t know what happened, but your comments went to SPAM. When I checked for your comments, I found one of my own comments in the SPAM folder, too. Huh? My own blog doesn’t recognize me.
Hopefully, the problem is fixed. So sorry. And thank you for letting me know.
Happy Thanksgiving!
So what exactly does being a memoir/humor/food write make you? ;)
It makes me confused.
Jennifer,
I love what you are doing on your blog lately. *fist pump*
Congrat’s on completing the course! It seems really interesting and challenging. And I love the fact that there are online classes! Which is actually just perfect for this little Belgian…
As for Thanksgiving : just throw the Brie on a plate, add some other cheeses, cut up a baguette and smack some butter on the table : French feast in an instant…
I knew that all-night-long-mind-babble crap in my head had a name!
Saw this, found it wonderful, and thought of you!
http://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2012/11/15/dining/thanksgiving-menu-generator.html#/?id=all
Eloise,
I love it!
My mindworm gets no play at night (Butter still sleeps horribly so I’m so tired I hit the pillow and wake only when someone screams). So it torments me during the day.
Thankfully, not about food. Thanksgiving will be a potluck. Again. 35 years at the same place with basically the same people. Plus lots of kids the past few years. It’ll be 40 people with 40 side dishes and desserts. The hosts barbeque a Willie bird.
Hope you quiet the mindworm long enough to let her out during the day. At your typewriter. Cuz neurotic voices-in-the-head are great fodder.