Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Ho, hum

Ah, how the awesomeness (which is of course the opposite of suckfulness - yeah I went to university. Shut up. So what if it was a Creative Arts degree. I said, shut up) drifts further and further away. So hard to be awesome. Perhaps that will be the title of my first self-help book "So hard to be awesome: why bother?" I know. It's got New York Times Bestseller list written all over it.

Anway where were we. Ah yes, the Suck O Meter. Well, the typing is going well. It's going to be very nicely typed. Which is better that it being poorly typed but not much better than anything else.

I did get 8 pages written yesterday morning. This I was quite happy with. Pages written this morning? I didn't even dream I was writing them let alone actually getting out of bed and writing them.

Suck O Meter: 9

This is going to take a lot of work.

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Reading

In another thing to add to the less suck, I'm reading this which is haunting and brutal and so beautifully written. I want to hang out with M J Hyland. I've got a feeling her life doesn't have the suckful in it. But then ... Anyway, go read it. Like … now.

Boiling and extracting

Slight improvement over day three's effort of extracting the suckful from my life and boiling it down to make funky jewellery that everyone will think is pretty but would never consider buying. Managed to do some typing last night of what is called New Light Shine but really should be nicknamed Monster Play from Hell and other surrounding neighbourhoods. It's going to be so big it may need a forklift to extract it from the couch when it needs medical attention.

Anyway, typing, typing, typing, was about all I could manage which is definitely not enough to banish the suckful but it's enough to keep it at a manageable level.

Suck O Meter: 6.

You so know we are doing this until I have a solid and irrefutable run of zeros. I wonder if that life has ever existed. We shall see.

Monday, August 24, 2009

Pantomime

Well, it was all going along so promisingly. On Day Two of the surgical removal of the suckful from my life (mind the organs, you never know when they will need to prove their worth) I outdid my day one effort. 32 (handwritten) pages of New Light Shine and the end of Act One. Oh, the parades, the adoration. If only I knew what lay at the end of a hard day's work. Oh wait … none of that happened - apart from the 32 pages. So, I guess that was good enough. Oh no it's not, I hear you say - because I'm convinced that deep down I'm living in a pantomime, oh yes I do. ('It's behind you, it's behind you!" "What?" "Your arse!") No, it's alright. I'll wait until you're done laughing.

Done? Okay then. You sure you don't need more time. Alrighty. Just asking.

If my 32 pages weren't enough (and really, it's not like I solved the wonders of lung cancer here even though the exhaustion that comes with creation should never be underestimated) I made a start on typing the soon-to-be-declared masterpiece. Victory! … Or something close to it.

Suck O Meter for Sunday: 3

And then … And then … This is the quiet moral part of the pantomime so gather in close if you want to learn something from this ridiculous form of theatre - set my alarm to get up this morning and continue work on soon-to-be-declared masterpiece and what the hell happens? Yes, the evil sleep monster came and stole my early morning away. Okay, enough with the pantomime. No need to scream it. And it's my life so there is never any lovely moral to sew into the tail.

Suck O Meter: 11. Oh yes. Don't try and tell me I'm being melodramatic. It's my Suck O Meter.

Let's see if we can improve it slightly by nights end.

Sunday, August 23, 2009

Progress

I've decided to try and erase the suckful from my life and to do this will now utilise a highly scientific instrument known as the Suck O Meter. This, of course, is the lay term. It's actually known as the Suckeratatus Ex Meter (yeah, you so know I know Latin).

Anyway, after that depressing post yesterday (which was true and my mood was moments away from sealing the gaps under the door and turning the gas oven up to 11) it's time to get things back into order. Or at least lower the dial on the Suck O Meter.

So I sent my other half to the pub (really, you must go. Drink lots of beers, yell at the football. Do it for me honey ... oh, okay. I really want to stay home and use a toothbrush to clean the grout in the bathroom but you know that I am here to support you in your writing anyway I can - I think this is what he said, he was halfway down the street at the time) and shut off the radio, TV, laptop, anything that produces noise (I tried to send a SOS to God to do something about the roaring wind but like that bastard has ever helped a girl in need). I then jumped into bed with pen and pad and kicked out 20 pages of the new play. Yes, it's New Light Shine. Yes, I know I have been working on it forever and a day. Shut up Dad. These things take time. It's not an excuse to send me yet another application for law school.

Anyway, it made me feel like a million dollars and was able to unseal the gaps and cook a casserole in the gas oven. Rockin? You betcha. Would I liked to have got more done? Oh, how you know me so well.

Suck O Meter 4 (baby steps people)

Saturday, August 22, 2009

Silence

Ever have those times when you just can't think of anything to say that doesn't include "My life sucks" "Oh god, my life sucks" "Gee, I wish my life would stop sucking" "Can you leave me alone while I wallow in my life sucking" or "If you keep standing there I'm going to have to kill you just to prove that my life sucks".

Yeah. No one wants to read a blog about that.

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

A riddle

Consider this:

Your friend is getting married. I don't know if he is your best friend but you are the best man so you're not exactly that guy that I play cricket with ever third Saturday. I don't know his name but he's kinda cool and really funny when he's drunk. Like, hilarious. So can we invite him to the wedding? You're not that guy. You're higher up on the friend chain than that. You're so high up you are put in charge of the bucks night. Yes, you are like super-sized friend. There is no friend greater than you. As super-sized friend, you let your fingers do the walking and wham, bam, thank you maam you have yourself a stripper who does a XXX rated performance called "Anal". Yes, you heard me right.

So bucks night comes around and boy are those beers flowing freely, especially from the guys who play cricket. Is that? Yes, that is the fourth keg being opened. Madam Lash (although I'm sure she had a more creative name than that) is doing her thing which amongst other notable highlights, includes lap dancing, breasts out and all over your face (yes, that's what the move is called) and then, oh then, comes out the strap-on dildo. Remember what the show is called people.

So Mr Best Man who doesn't play cricket but thinks he might try out for Most Valuable Player for the evening ,volunteers to be a part of Madam Lash's extravaganza. He gets a lap dance. Nice. He gets a couple of breasts rubbed on his face. Nicer. He is told by Madam Lash to take off his pants and get on all fours. Remember the strap-on? Not so nice. What does Mr Best Man do? Does he say well, this has been fun but why don't we make it a little less interactive? Or, Thanks very much Madam Lash but my mother always told me to keep my pants on when drinking beer - which would be very good advice for all mothers to tell their sons. Especially when they grow up to be footballers. No. No, Mummy forgot to tell her very grown up son that excellent piece of advice. So there he is - on all fours, literally butt naked. Then Madam Lash produces from some secret compartment in her leather bustier the "special" lotions which everyone knows only drips trouble.

However, in Mr Best Man's defence he did ask Madam Lash to please be gentle which Madam Lash who is there just to collect the cash so she doesn't really care, says "Sure. Course I'll be gentle" as she applies the special lotion to his butt.

As the story goes, Mr Best Man shortly after felt a "sharp pain and a thrust" which millions of young girls on prom night will relate to and suddenly the meaning of triple X made itself very clear to Mr Best Man.

Now, this story would have been hilarious if it had stopped there. But it didn't. Because idiot Mr Best Man then went and accused Madam Lash of rape. Yes, you heard me right. And the whole thing was dragged through the courts until today when 12 sensible people of the jury who no doubt would never be caught anywhere near any kind of "special" lotion told Mr Best Man he was an idiot and sent Madam Lash on her way to a buck's night near you.

You can read about the whole sordid mess here.

Oh, where is a violin when you need one

Oh, poor blog. Poor bloggy blog blog. I pretend to care so much and then I just abandon you without a second thought. In fact I rarely think about you in the first place so a second thought is really some pie in the sky stuff. You know what I mean bloggy blog? Okay, I'll stop that … soon. You know deep down you love it … Bloggy blog. Okay. Last time. Seriously. I swear.


Bloggy blog.

I can't believe you fell for that.

Saturday, August 1, 2009

Give peace a chance

This week seems to have flown by. New cash job is pretty full on but everyone is nice and I haven't screwed anything up yet. So that is good and good for my general well-being. My days are also taken up with planning a trip to QLD next week for M's wedding and then general family business. The wedding is turning out to be the easy bit. Trying to get my family to come together as good families should do is proving more difficult. I understand how foreign diplomats feel when dealing with the Middle East. It's very similar. In fact, I might consider that a fallback position if this whole writing thing doesn't work out.

Work has been so full on laterly that all the real writing has been left to the weekend. This weekend I have to read through the monster treatment of New Light Shine and get it straight. The writing has to start by Monday at th latest. I've made a start on it and it's all kinda working. It may be a little BIG. It needs some pruning. Every play can't be about everything. Can it?