Tag Archive | distractions

You’ve got to be kidding me… It’s going to snow again?

I’m managing my facebook exile pretty well. I’ve written four additional chapters for my original story in that time, the first draft anyway. I usually take a few days after to think about what I wrote (and go through some inner conflict tug of war over whether I like it or hate it.  At some point during my turmoil, the answer is both.  I’ll fix what didn’t work and move on.)

 As you have probably worked out, my process is not that complicated.  The truth is- I’m not that deep.  And I like it that way.

While I work out the kinks in the original, I figure it’s time to get working on a much delayed update or two in FSOG fanfiction world.  That’s what’s on today’s menu anyway. 

 My Social Media Dom has allowed me a few minutes here and there to peek into facebook.  I hope he doesn’t get too used to his Dom status because those days are numbered. Soon I’ll be back to my well-deserved Queen of the Castle status.

 

While perusing my newsfeed, I’ve come to the conclusion that I haven’t missed much. In the few times I’ve peeked in, I’ve found that most  status’ are my fellow facebook friends bitching and moaning about snow. Granted, this part of the world has been dealing with a shitload of snow.  I’m not a fan of snow. Truthfully, I hate snow (yet, I enjoy shoveling snow… it burns away all the wine calories… and there’s a lot to burn).

Correction, I like pretty snow. The kind that sticks onto the trees and grassy surfaces, leaving the streets and sidewalks clear.  That has not occurred this winter.  We are getting pounded.  Three storms just this week.  It’s crazy. Mother Nature is really getting around…Snow Slut that she is.

When my daughter was in middle school, the eighth grade sponsored a day trip to the Pocono Mountains for some winter sports… skiing, snowboarding, tubing, all the outdoorsy cold winter fun activities I’d rather avoid.  Parents were encouraged to come along and participate.  Like many of us, I was an overprotective parent with visions of my daughter breaking her leg from a freak tubing accident, so I was on board.  Mind you, we were not chaperones; we were there to enjoy the joys of winter along with everyone else.

The kids were having a blast, decked out in eighty layers of coats, hats and scarves.  My daughter and her friend begged me to join them on the mountain. 

Hello darling daughter….  Have you met me?

Fortunately, they were still young enough to believe that anything I told them was gospel.  Like a few other snow-hating mothers, I explained to them that I was staying behind at the ski lodge in case someone was injured and needed help.  I’m so selfless, such a giver.  Satisfied with that excuse, the girls scampered back to the frigid mountain, while I and all the other selfless parents waited patiently in the ski lodge.

Here’s what our kids thought we were doing:

 

 Here’s the reality:

 

 Needless to say, we made the best of the day (and slept it off on the bus ride home… Good Times).

~o0o~

A few years ago, we were hammered with a bitch of a blizzard. This is a worst case scenario for a snow hater like me.  It’s not pretty snow.  It’s snow that keeps you locked up in your house for days with nothing else to do but eat and deal with bored kids.

I was miserable at the prospect of this snow event.  Mother Nature was setting herself up to be particularity slutty…porn star slutty. I needed a diversion, something to keep my mind off of the storm as it was happening, and lighten my misery.  That’s when I had my moment of clarity.

I read somewhere that it’s practically impossible to look at a penguin and feel angry.  You can’t argue with that logic.  Think of a penguin right now…you’re happy right?   You can’t help yourself, can you?

Meet Paulie the Penguin.  He belongs to our neighbors. We steal it off their porch every Christmas and return it in July. Paulie was about to make this blizzard tolerable.

We placed him on a table outside and let Paulie and Mother Nature entertain us. 

Paulie at 11:00 am: Ready for the fun to begin:

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Paulie at 3:00 pm.   He’s still holding his own:

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5:00 pm…Things are starting to suck for Paulie:

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 7:00 pm.  Paulie is experiencing numbness on his face.  Meanwhile, I’m warm and toasty with a  glass of chilled Pinot Grigio:

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 9:00.  Lucky for Paulie, penguin balls are internal.  Now that it’s dark outside, he’s lit up for our viewing pleasure:

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 11:00 pm.  I think it’s pretty safe to say, Paulie is not a happy Penguin. However I’m on my third glass of wine, it’s all good for me:

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11:00 BONUS PIC. For shits and giggles.  Yes, he’s still in there. Watch him glow.  Isn’t he glorious?  

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 8 am.  My ruler said a gazzilion inches of snow fell that day.  Not a good day to be a plastic penguin. Paulie entombed:

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 9 am.  Paulie carved out of his snowy tomb:

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Later that day…. No Penguins were hurt in this experiment:

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~o0o~

 So, there ya go. My solution to beating the “You’ve got to be kidding me…It’s going to snow again?” blues.

I hope you enjoyed Paulie as much as we do. It’s the only FU I can give to Mother Nature… make the misery she sprinkles upon us… entertaining.

It’s time for me to get writing, so adios until next time.

Stay safe out there.

Time Waster …aka Managing the Easily Distracted Mind

I hadn’t realized until recently that I have the attention span of a flea. Why didn’t I notice it?  I was distracted.

 As I sit at my desktop, pounding away on the keyboard what I hope will entertain anyone who reads it, I find myself drifting …a quick glance out the window to spy on the neighbors or I look to my other side where I have a hutch full of crystal wineglasses.   I should keep on writing while the mojo is going…but in an insincere moment of imaginary-housewifedom, I decide the better choice is to get off my ass and take out all the crystal and hand wash them.  They’re dusty and don’t have the sparkle they deserve.  Mind you, they haven’t sparkled for months. I don’t use any of these glasses.  I insisted I needed them as an engagement gift, you know, so I could set the table for all the fancy dinners I was planning to have. 

 (To those who aren’t married yet, I’m going to give you a free life lesson: You will never have those parties.  I can count on both hands how many times I’ve used the crystal wine, water and champagne glasses, along with the ‘good china’ I had to have.  You want the cheap stuff, the stuff you don’t care about when your husband’s idiot of a best friend drops it on the floor. Trust me on this one…and you’re welcome.)

 Lately my distraction has been all about facebook.  It took me forever to kick my Farmville addiction (honestly I did have one hell of a fancy farm).  I’d plan my day around what time I had to pick my corn and plant roses. I made sure each farm animal wasn’t crushed in their pens…you know, like they were real breathing farm animals. I owned reindeer…how cool is that? Much unlike my real life, my farm was neat and orderly.   I crossed the sanity line.  I’d have long conversations with my mother (another proud farmer) over our vast farmlands and how beautifully they were decorated.  It was sad, just sad.

Like I said, I finally realized that I had to stop cold turkey.  And it was painful.  I knew my flowers were wilting and my corn was turning brown. I wanted to look.  I wanted to feed my poor hungry chickens. But I stayed strong. I stopped over a year ago and to this day, I can’t visit the ol’ farm…it’s much too painful.

When I decided to go for it and write a book, I was on a roll.  I was a writing machine.  Words were coming so easily… Clever, clever words.  Oh, I was quite the wordsmith.  That didn’t last too long.  Once again, my attention span got in the way of creativity.  Damn facebook again.  I’d get through a paragraph then reward myself with a quick peek on my newsfeed.  Little by little, the rewards were given for lesser achievements.  A sentence.  A word.  A space.

Facebook, Twitter and various gossip websites were ruling my life and sucking out my inspiration… A complete time waster.

Hello, My name is Annette.

I’m a  procrastinator and Social Mediaholic.

 I thought long and hard (<—another one of my issues, immature dirty mind) about how I was going to escape my obsession and actually do what I set out to do when I powered up my desktop… Write.

I’ve deactivated my facebook page temporarily before.  The trouble is, you can easily reactivate it by simply typing in your email and password.  I’d accidentally (I swear that’s the truth) log back in all the time and have to deactivate it again (of course after I perused my newsfeed first)

Desperate times call for desperate measures.  I called in for reinforcements.  My husband. I couldn’t believe what I was about to request, but it had to be done. Here’s how it went down.

 “Change my password and don’t tell me what it is.” I signed into my facebook account and handed the tablet to him.

 “Seriously?” He frowns.

 “Yes, I’m weak.”

 “You’re not going to text me all day while I’m at work asking for it, are you?”

 “No. And if I do ask for it, you can’t give it to me.”

 “How will I know when you really need it back?”

 “Oh, I didn’t think of that. I don’t know.  You’ll have to figure it out.”

 “I’m in a no win situation here, you know that.”

 “Yes, now change it.”

 

I turned my head and poof!  New password.  I can no longer access facebook at will. My husband holds the key.  I gave him all the power. He decides when I can go on facebook and I obey. I just made him my social media Dom. Holy crap, I’ve unintentionally entered into a D/s social media relationship. All this Fifty Shades of Grey fanfiction writing has infiltrated my real life.

I’m going to have to ponder this for a while; I think I just blew my mind.

 

You’d think having no facebook access would give me some relief, but what I wasn’t expecting was my paranoia to sink in.  What am I missing?  What if they’re talking about me?  They probably are.  They definitely are.  What are they saying?  Is it mean?  Why are they saying mean things about me?  You get the picture.

Come to think of it, if anyone reads this blog entry,  they’ll know I can’t see my facebook page. They’re probably going to litter my facebook page with taunts, knowing I won’t have the ability to respond. There’s no way I can win this.

 But I am keeping to my word, until I get a respectable amount of writing accomplished.  Today, I was allowed a little facebook time.  I had to look the other way when he entered the password. It was wonderful. Wonderful!

So, now I’m spoon-fed small morsels of facebook.  I’m still working on my gossip site addiction (Cut me some slack, Rome wasn’t build in a day). But I’m heading in the right direction. I’ll pour myself a glass of wine (or two) and wait for the brilliance to pour out into my keyboard.