The brave/stupid continuum

I've come to the conclusion in the last few years that you never really know. I always thought that I would get to the point as a writer and probably more as a person where I could instinctively tell the good choices from the bad. I was wrong about that. I was so wrong about that I want someone to invent a time machine so I can go back to my 17 year old self who was trying to recover from a broken heart, broken by a terrible, terrible man and trying to tell herself that one day she will instinctively know the good from the bad and just hug her. My 17 year old self really needed a hug. In fact, I always need a hug. Hug me next time you see me. But you don't know. It's all up for grabs and it's all just a little bit of luck.

So, in an effort to just do things and see where they go, I'm doing this next month. Yes. I really am. You are all welcome to come to my house on 1 September 2012 and hug me or slap me, depending on whether it turns out to be a good choice or a bad choice. Or, you can come and join me and make some choices of your own.

Same old, same old

Oh, the slackness. Just when I think I have this blogging thing under control and I'm all in the groove and whatnot, I stop having useful things to say. Or I get so freaking busy that the thought of writing one more sentence sends me lunging for the wine bottle … Even though I talk a lot about drinking, I'm really not an alcoholic. Or I'm only partially one. Or I'm a really high-functioning one, which, by the by, I once heard Janeane Garofalo say on stage was her biggest regret. God bless Janeane Janeane Garofalo. She also instructed us all that if you find yourself as the object of an intervention, start crying and don't stop until it's over. She should really write a book. Anyway, the main reason I have been absent is due to writing a screenplay. Now, I've contemplated some stupid enterprises in my time but OH MY GOD! Writing a screenplay is really hard. Even when you are a playwright. So many scenes. So many characters. So many rules. So many story threads to try and hang yourself with. But it's done. Or a draft of it is done. So now I have to write many more drafts, write other documents to explain the document I have just written and fill out lots of forms in the hope that someone somewhere will give me some money to do some more of this. God bless this writing life.