I used to have a writer friend who only wrote vignettes. I was a novelist and she wrote these really short little glimpses of life. I thought it was interesting. She was interesting. She never understood how someone wrote an entire book with all these things happening, all these characters interacting, and a plot with a beginning, middle and an end. I think I’m just overly wordy.
Of course, I never understood how she could write something so detailed in such few words. Touché.
She was one of my constant fans who wrote reviews back in the day when I uploaded books. A truly nice person who resided in Australia. I remember thinking my fans from Canada and Australia were the nicest ones.
It was nice. It’s nice to have fans. Stalkers? Yeah, they can be a’ight. They all pay attention to you. Do you like attention? Do you like the overuse of the word, “nice?”
It depends. When you walk out of a bathroom with a dangling piece of toilet paper on your shoe or back pocket, you don’t like that attention.
Funny story: Once, many, many years ago, I had a lot of womanly problems (before I got fixed). I was bleeding like 20 out of the 30 days of a month. I was always feeling sick, worn down, overall blah, at the time, without knowing why. When I finally went to see a doctor I was rushed into a hospital and immediately operated upon. The doctor wondered how I went for two years without noticing I was in pain, extremely low on blood, and having problems. Not sure. I have a high pain tolerance? Good times.
Well, the funny story is I walked into a Blockbuster (remember those?) with a sanitary pad sticking out of my back pocket. I mean, there it was just sticking out of my back pocket.
I’m perusing the DVD’s or VHS tapes (I’m that old) in 1996? I was walking around with my tight jeans and T-shirt, checking out what to rent.
I wait in line, bopping my head to the music playing from the speakers. It was a nice day.
When I leave I reach for my keys and something falls out of my pocket.
Yep, it was that cool little white thingy and I got so fuckin embarrassed.
It took me about a month for me to return to that store. I was just too embarrassed. I remembered turning and bending over and I’m sure all the other patrons and employees were checking out that lady with the maxi-pad sticking out of her back pocket.
Why am I telling you this embarrassing story?
Don’t have any idea. I do have that high pain tolerance.
I’m leading up to my next post which will be a long poem/vignette. It’s just a little something I wrote.
Want to hear a song?
Looking up at that photo up there it reminded me of this song I wrote many, many years ago. You’ll probably need headphones because the recording is bad. Oh wait, maybe no headphones.
I hope you all have a fantastic day of seeking and searching and finding what you love.
I realized, I love playing ridiculously bad music, and writing lyrics for that poor excuse of guitar playing, and singing equally as poor.
Love you Gracie! 🙂 ❤