I've been writing this blog for a little over two years, and recently I've begun thinking that I don't know you all as well as I'd like.
So if you're a follower, casual reader, or lurker of this blog, would you mind doing me a favor? Of course not, you also want to waste time on a beautiful Friday day!
Leave a comment on this post telling me the following:
1. Your name (or InternetName)
2. Where you're from (but don't get too detailed - this is the Internet, people. Stranger danger!)
3. Your three favorite books. (And no lies! I liked Heart of Darkness too, but let's be real. No one REALLY picks it as their favorite book, and no one will judge you for being lowbrow.)
4. You three favorite movies. (Same rules apply.)
5. If you could have this afternoon free of all your obligations and money was no object, what would you do with it?
6. (Optional) Why do you read this blog? Or perhaps, how did you find it and then decide to keep coming back? Are you an aspiring writer too, or maybe an aspiring law student? Did you find me from some feminist rant or nerdy dissertation I left on someone else's blog? OR - so exciting - will I finally find out who googles CORN HUSK DRESS every single week???
(Friends of mine who were bullied into reading this blog - you don't have to answer number 6.)
This info will not only help me get to know you better, but hopefully visit your blogs as well since sometimes the links under the "followers" tab don't work. (If you have a blog, that is. No worries if not.) And other people will get to know you as well! What great fun blogging can be!
(I'm sorry for all that enthusiasm, but I now have The King and I soundtrack stuck in my head, thanks to that dumb blog post title. RUN ELIZA RUN!)
Friday, August 19, 2011
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Ruh roh (times a billion this time!)
(How bad is it that I've already used "Ruh Roh" as a blog post title? Clearly I need to work on expanding my reference repertoire. Goal: Bring up Blossom's ridiculously sized hats within the coming weeks.)
Over at Writeon Con, Leisa Abrams posted an interesting essay on Online Etiquette that got me thinking.
It seems like every profession has certain standards for how they want members of their ranks to behave online. Why do you think I pretended I lived in Fake Austin and New Denver? Because a lawyer's greatest skills are research and revenge. I had to thwart my colleagues somehow.
And in general, I like to think that I've played it safe here at the crossroads of Lawtopolis and InternetLand, never naming an employer or talking about a client, keeping everything general even when I complain.
But when it comes to my writerpants goals?
Ms. Abrams' post got me thinking.
What kind of things do I write? I just realized I may have never mentioned this. I definitely skew into heavily into young adult territory.*
And when I look at my blog, facebook, and twitter, do I think -- is this appropriate behavior to display before impressionable tweens, teenagers, and their over-protective parents?
Gulp.
Well, for one, I do love "controversial topics." (Though, I'll be honest -- the fact that feminism is controversial in 2011 pretty much makes me want to stab a TV, and you all know how much I love TV.)
And swearing is a pretty important part of my life.
And there are a lot of jokes about binge-drinking while studying for the bar on here. (For the record, those were merely puns based on the word "bar." Oh, I'm so clever.)
But on the plus side, I've never shared overly personal stories about my family, dating life, or health. That's got to count for something, right? Or at least make up for the fact that I've got at least 5 different posts about my underwear?
As I did a mental inventory, my fingers were itching, wanting to go through my archives and delete anything that could be a potential turn-off to agents, editors, buyers, or readers.
And then I got a grip.
I'm not published.
Odds are, I never will be. (It's ok, I'm a big believer in avoiding self-deception.)
So I will continue to curse and generally behave badly online.
Should the day ever come that I luck out in the world of publishing, I will gladly attempt to sanitize my image as best I can, because Ms. Abrams makes some excellent points.
But until that day, this blog helps keep me sane. And if I can't fill it with swears anymore, it's not doing its job.
* Here's the official breakdown, if you want it:
Throughout elementary school, I wrote and drew some pretty terrible picture books.
In junior high, I finished my first full-length project, a young adult fantasy novel.
In high school, there were a lot of short stories, and one massive -- and yet unfinished -- young adult paranormal thriller.
In college, more short stories, one full-length completed chick lit manuscript. Also a bazillion opinion columns and unsigned editorials for my student newspaper.
Law school was a half-dozen started and unfinished projects, some contemporary fiction, some young adult. There were also a lot of papers (shocking, I know, law students write papers), editing two books for G-Money, and the script for one short film.
Post-law school was more short stories, more half-started projects (again, a mix of contemporary fiction and young adult), and the current unnamed project which will be finished, or my brain will rue the day it messed with me.
Over at Writeon Con, Leisa Abrams posted an interesting essay on Online Etiquette that got me thinking.
It seems like every profession has certain standards for how they want members of their ranks to behave online. Why do you think I pretended I lived in Fake Austin and New Denver? Because a lawyer's greatest skills are research and revenge. I had to thwart my colleagues somehow.
And in general, I like to think that I've played it safe here at the crossroads of Lawtopolis and InternetLand, never naming an employer or talking about a client, keeping everything general even when I complain.
But when it comes to my writerpants goals?
Ms. Abrams' post got me thinking.
What kind of things do I write? I just realized I may have never mentioned this. I definitely skew into heavily into young adult territory.*
And when I look at my blog, facebook, and twitter, do I think -- is this appropriate behavior to display before impressionable tweens, teenagers, and their over-protective parents?
Gulp.
Well, for one, I do love "controversial topics." (Though, I'll be honest -- the fact that feminism is controversial in 2011 pretty much makes me want to stab a TV, and you all know how much I love TV.)
And swearing is a pretty important part of my life.
And there are a lot of jokes about binge-drinking while studying for the bar on here. (For the record, those were merely puns based on the word "bar." Oh, I'm so clever.)
But on the plus side, I've never shared overly personal stories about my family, dating life, or health. That's got to count for something, right? Or at least make up for the fact that I've got at least 5 different posts about my underwear?
As I did a mental inventory, my fingers were itching, wanting to go through my archives and delete anything that could be a potential turn-off to agents, editors, buyers, or readers.
And then I got a grip.
I'm not published.
Odds are, I never will be. (It's ok, I'm a big believer in avoiding self-deception.)
So I will continue to curse and generally behave badly online.
Should the day ever come that I luck out in the world of publishing, I will gladly attempt to sanitize my image as best I can, because Ms. Abrams makes some excellent points.
But until that day, this blog helps keep me sane. And if I can't fill it with swears anymore, it's not doing its job.
* Here's the official breakdown, if you want it:
Throughout elementary school, I wrote and drew some pretty terrible picture books.
In junior high, I finished my first full-length project, a young adult fantasy novel.
In high school, there were a lot of short stories, and one massive -- and yet unfinished -- young adult paranormal thriller.
In college, more short stories, one full-length completed chick lit manuscript. Also a bazillion opinion columns and unsigned editorials for my student newspaper.
Law school was a half-dozen started and unfinished projects, some contemporary fiction, some young adult. There were also a lot of papers (shocking, I know, law students write papers), editing two books for G-Money, and the script for one short film.
(Amazing, right?)
Post-law school was more short stories, more half-started projects (again, a mix of contemporary fiction and young adult), and the current unnamed project which will be finished, or my brain will rue the day it messed with me.
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Pep pep pep
So guess what I realized (thanks to the stats function on blogger?) It's RUSH WEEK, boys and girls!
For any girl who googled "Tri Delta recommendation letter" and found my blog (isn't the Internet so weird?), I figure I can offer the following advice:
Be yourself. If you are a legacy, get your letters in sooner rather than later. If you aren't a legacy, don't sweat it because it's not necessary. Yes, the Rho Chis (or "Recruitment Counselors," depending on your school) will seem a bit crazy, but go with it. And keep an open mind. Just because your mom, aunts, and sisters were all Alpha Chis doesn't mean you wouldn't make a great Kappa. (Why yes, I was on Greek Council. How ever did you know?)
Oh, what the hell am I saying. You know you just wanna pledge Tri Delta.
(Unless you're headed up to the Blessed U. In which case, pour one out for the tragically shut down Tri Delt house. That was a total injustice, I tell ya.)
I am a T.
I am a T-R.
I am a T-R-I-D-E-L-T-A! (Wa-hoo!)
We are the B-E-S-T best of the all the R-E-S-T rest,
I am a T-R-I-D-E-L-T-A!
(They'll teach you the dirty songs after initiation.)
With that, I will leave you with a little anecdotes from the life of Ru:
My friend Sam texted me awhile back to chat about law school dilemmas. He and I were on Greek Council together (wait for it ...) SEVEN years ago. (Jeez I feel old.) Anyway, this is our exchange:
Sam: Testing, testing. This message is to see if this is still Ru's phone number. If it is, please reply with a derogatory comment about Pi Phi.
Me: Pi Phis are skanky sluts! :) How are ya?
Sam: I'm doing better than all the Pikes with their beer guts and early stages of AIDS.
Me: That's what we like to hear!
(Yes, all of that was a joke. Yes, people in different houses ALSO become good friends and stay friends. Mind-blowing, I know.)
For any girl who googled "Tri Delta recommendation letter" and found my blog (isn't the Internet so weird?), I figure I can offer the following advice:
Be yourself. If you are a legacy, get your letters in sooner rather than later. If you aren't a legacy, don't sweat it because it's not necessary. Yes, the Rho Chis (or "Recruitment Counselors," depending on your school) will seem a bit crazy, but go with it. And keep an open mind. Just because your mom, aunts, and sisters were all Alpha Chis doesn't mean you wouldn't make a great Kappa. (Why yes, I was on Greek Council. How ever did you know?)
Oh, what the hell am I saying. You know you just wanna pledge Tri Delta.
(Unless you're headed up to the Blessed U. In which case, pour one out for the tragically shut down Tri Delt house. That was a total injustice, I tell ya.)
I am a T.
I am a T-R.
I am a T-R-I-D-E-L-T-A! (Wa-hoo!)
We are the B-E-S-T best of the all the R-E-S-T rest,
I am a T-R-I-D-E-L-T-A!
(They'll teach you the dirty songs after initiation.)
With that, I will leave you with a little anecdotes from the life of Ru:
My friend Sam texted me awhile back to chat about law school dilemmas. He and I were on Greek Council together (wait for it ...) SEVEN years ago. (Jeez I feel old.) Anyway, this is our exchange:
Sam: Testing, testing. This message is to see if this is still Ru's phone number. If it is, please reply with a derogatory comment about Pi Phi.
Me: Pi Phis are skanky sluts! :) How are ya?
Sam: I'm doing better than all the Pikes with their beer guts and early stages of AIDS.
Me: That's what we like to hear!
(Yes, all of that was a joke. Yes, people in different houses ALSO become good friends and stay friends. Mind-blowing, I know.)
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
A rule to live by
It is hard to offend me.
Actually, it's almost impossible.
Because of that, I tend to not understand when others get offended.
I try to be a courteous person, but I'm probably pricklier than your average bear. Some people consider this a charming character quirk. Some people, not so much. It's definitely possible for me to give offense without intent, and when that's brought to my attention, I'll apologize. (Unfortunately, it's going to sound a lot like one of those non-apology apologies -- "I'm sorry you were offended." Double unfortunately -- if I didn't actually intend to offend you, that's all you're going to get out of me. I'm not one to apologize just for kicks and giggles.)
But for the record.
If you read something I write on this blog and think, "Hey! That's about me!" -- it almost certainly is not. (You can go ahead and get your panties in a twist, however, since I would never deny anyone that experience. Righteous indignation, it's a helluva drug.)
If I specifically name you - Diego, Hannah, Lulu, or one of my many other pseudonyms - then yes, it's about you. If I refer to another blogger by name - Mormon Child Bride, Gurrbonzo, Boob Nazi - again, it is about you. When I say "Sarah Palin," I mean Sarah Palin. When I say "Ashley from The Bachelorette," I mean Ashley from The Bachelorette. When I say Spence, I mean exactly that darling pupperlup.
But if I just write, "Sweet mother of mercy, what is the deal with people who use their iPhones as a hymnal in church?" Or, "people who cut you off in traffic?" Or, "the boring?" it's just because I've noticed enough pretentious idiots, bad drivers, and lamesters behaving the exact same way to call them out en masse.
So ... long story short, if you find yourself thinking that this biotch Ru has specifically dedicated an entire blog post to you and you alone ... eh, probably not.
(Except for this post. Though to be fair, while this is about one person* specifically, it's about Internetland generally.)
For the most part, I don't believe people intend ill will toward others. More than that, I think that coincidence is always more likely than conspiracy. I don't spend much of my time thinking negatively about others, and I imagine the same goes for you.
I know the Internet makes paranoid freaks out of us all. I even once emailed Mormon Child Bride (notice how I'm naming her directly?) to double check that I hadn't accidentally stolen one of her jokes. (I hadn't.)
So when in doubt, remember this: No one is talking about you.
It was true in junior high. It's true now.
Do you know why?
Because we all have better things to do with our time. For reals.
And if telling yourself that doesn't work, and you remain completely, 100% convinced that it is you someone else is talking about -- just email them and ask. I guarantee that you're going to be reassured that they had no idea that their words were going to be taken that way and no offense was intended. There may be even some nice chuckle times. I can't guarantee it, but it's likely.
* In this one case, I won't name that person, but she knows who she is, since I have (a) tried to clarify my joke on my blog; (b) offered three separate blog comments on her blog trying to explain the misunderstanding, all of which were promptly deleted; and (c) emailed her in an attempt to mend fences, though she is determined to believe I was deliberately rude.
So here's my apology for all of InternetLand to see: "I'm sorry you were offended. When I say 'Cathy comic strip wannabes,' I mean those who are two-dimensional enough to only talk about chocolate, weight gain, and dating on their facebooks, twitter, and blogs. Like Cathy, from the decidedly unfunny comic strip Cathy. I definitely don't mean people who like drawing comics in general."
I'm also sorry-- but a little more impressed -- that I managed to offend you, even though you acknowledged you didn't understand what I meant by the statement "Cathy comic strip wannabees." Internet hat trick, friendos -- a misinterpretation SQUARED.
(In case any of you all were wondering, yes, it does kind of blow my mind that after ranting to a ridiculous degree about twitter, the only thing I managed to do was offend someone who likes to draw comic strips. C'est la vie.)
As a final note -- I don't need to be told that my posts are negative. Jeez, what about me ranting in the last two years about bad dates, Sarah Palin, annoying Mormons, True Blood, pet owners, parents, Ayn Rand, Project Runway, writer's block, billable hours, ABC Family, anti-feminists, censorship, bar exams, and contractors gave anyone the impression that I wasn't a negative person? I am super negative. I aspire only to be funny as well.
Truth in advertising, my homies.
Actually, it's almost impossible.
Because of that, I tend to not understand when others get offended.
I try to be a courteous person, but I'm probably pricklier than your average bear. Some people consider this a charming character quirk. Some people, not so much. It's definitely possible for me to give offense without intent, and when that's brought to my attention, I'll apologize. (Unfortunately, it's going to sound a lot like one of those non-apology apologies -- "I'm sorry you were offended." Double unfortunately -- if I didn't actually intend to offend you, that's all you're going to get out of me. I'm not one to apologize just for kicks and giggles.)
But for the record.
If you read something I write on this blog and think, "Hey! That's about me!" -- it almost certainly is not. (You can go ahead and get your panties in a twist, however, since I would never deny anyone that experience. Righteous indignation, it's a helluva drug.)
If I specifically name you - Diego, Hannah, Lulu, or one of my many other pseudonyms - then yes, it's about you. If I refer to another blogger by name - Mormon Child Bride, Gurrbonzo, Boob Nazi - again, it is about you. When I say "Sarah Palin," I mean Sarah Palin. When I say "Ashley from The Bachelorette," I mean Ashley from The Bachelorette. When I say Spence, I mean exactly that darling pupperlup.
But if I just write, "Sweet mother of mercy, what is the deal with people who use their iPhones as a hymnal in church?" Or, "people who cut you off in traffic?" Or, "the boring?" it's just because I've noticed enough pretentious idiots, bad drivers, and lamesters behaving the exact same way to call them out en masse.
So ... long story short, if you find yourself thinking that this biotch Ru has specifically dedicated an entire blog post to you and you alone ... eh, probably not.
(Except for this post. Though to be fair, while this is about one person* specifically, it's about Internetland generally.)
For the most part, I don't believe people intend ill will toward others. More than that, I think that coincidence is always more likely than conspiracy. I don't spend much of my time thinking negatively about others, and I imagine the same goes for you.
I know the Internet makes paranoid freaks out of us all. I even once emailed Mormon Child Bride (notice how I'm naming her directly?) to double check that I hadn't accidentally stolen one of her jokes. (I hadn't.)
So when in doubt, remember this: No one is talking about you.
It was true in junior high. It's true now.
Do you know why?
Because we all have better things to do with our time. For reals.
And if telling yourself that doesn't work, and you remain completely, 100% convinced that it is you someone else is talking about -- just email them and ask. I guarantee that you're going to be reassured that they had no idea that their words were going to be taken that way and no offense was intended. There may be even some nice chuckle times. I can't guarantee it, but it's likely.
***
* In this one case, I won't name that person, but she knows who she is, since I have (a) tried to clarify my joke on my blog; (b) offered three separate blog comments on her blog trying to explain the misunderstanding, all of which were promptly deleted; and (c) emailed her in an attempt to mend fences, though she is determined to believe I was deliberately rude.
So here's my apology for all of InternetLand to see: "I'm sorry you were offended. When I say 'Cathy comic strip wannabes,' I mean those who are two-dimensional enough to only talk about chocolate, weight gain, and dating on their facebooks, twitter, and blogs. Like Cathy, from the decidedly unfunny comic strip Cathy. I definitely don't mean people who like drawing comics in general."
I'm also sorry-- but a little more impressed -- that I managed to offend you, even though you acknowledged you didn't understand what I meant by the statement "Cathy comic strip wannabees." Internet hat trick, friendos -- a misinterpretation SQUARED.
(In case any of you all were wondering, yes, it does kind of blow my mind that after ranting to a ridiculous degree about twitter, the only thing I managed to do was offend someone who likes to draw comic strips. C'est la vie.)
As a final note -- I don't need to be told that my posts are negative. Jeez, what about me ranting in the last two years about bad dates, Sarah Palin, annoying Mormons, True Blood, pet owners, parents, Ayn Rand, Project Runway, writer's block, billable hours, ABC Family, anti-feminists, censorship, bar exams, and contractors gave anyone the impression that I wasn't a negative person? I am super negative. I aspire only to be funny as well.
Truth in advertising, my homies.
Monday, August 15, 2011
Did you think I forgot about the contest? Well, I didn't :)
So who won that contest, you might be wondering?
According to my handy-dandy random generator (That I googled - no, I don't have my own random number generator. All in time, Iago ...), the winners are ....
LINDSEY SINE!
ABBY!
DI!
If you ladies want to leave a comment and let me know which of the three prizes you want, though I'm pretty sure Abby called dibs on the MYSTERY PRIZE.
And everyone else, please go support Sweatin for Sarah if you can, it's a great cause!
According to my handy-dandy random generator (That I googled - no, I don't have my own random number generator. All in time, Iago ...), the winners are ....
LINDSEY SINE!
ABBY!
DI!
If you ladies want to leave a comment and let me know which of the three prizes you want, though I'm pretty sure Abby called dibs on the MYSTERY PRIZE.
And everyone else, please go support Sweatin for Sarah if you can, it's a great cause!
Friday, August 12, 2011
Overwhelmed
(I'll have you know, I resisted the urge to title this post, "Overwhelmed with a**h****." I debated whether "with" or "by" was funnier, and then I realized, "Oh hey, that's kind of vulgar, isn't it?" As you can tell, cooler heads prevailed. Sort of. I mean, I did include this parenthetical explanation.)
Look, things are not going well for me right now, for no particularly good reason. Problems that once seemed commonplace ("Oh damn, the check engine light is on") now seem catastrophic ("NOT THE CHECK ENGINE LIGHT!"). Throw in enough little, normal problems and you have the situation in which I've currently found myself -- whimpering behind my desk at work.
BUT HERE'S THE THING.
I go to blogs and facebook (and now that behemoth Twitter, brought by the foulest wind off the Great Salt Lake on an icy winter's day, a stinking abscess on my soul, an all-around plague upon the children of men*) and I am completely blown away by sheer lameness.
You made a smoothie? Oh, really? Was it nummers? Was it nummers to your tummers?
I am happy!
I am annoyed!
I am mildly constipated!
What? A friend with whom I have a troublingly codependent relationship has said something??? *Snuggle!* *Giggle!* *Frown!* *Gulp!* *Gasps!*
(Question: Can you *litigates*? *philosophizes*? *establishes political foundation by which our future republic shall be run*? *thinks dirty thoughts while pretending to pay attention in church*? *feigns enthusiasm*? *sucks up*? *represses urge to pee*? *regrets life choices*? *ignores funny taste in mouth*?)
* I'M SORRY, I FEEL STRONGLY ABOUT TWITTER, OK?
Look, things are not going well for me right now, for no particularly good reason. Problems that once seemed commonplace ("Oh damn, the check engine light is on") now seem catastrophic ("NOT THE CHECK ENGINE LIGHT!"). Throw in enough little, normal problems and you have the situation in which I've currently found myself -- whimpering behind my desk at work.
BUT HERE'S THE THING.
I go to blogs and facebook (and now that behemoth Twitter, brought by the foulest wind off the Great Salt Lake on an icy winter's day, a stinking abscess on my soul, an all-around plague upon the children of men*) and I am completely blown away by sheer lameness.
You made a smoothie? Oh, really? Was it nummers? Was it nummers to your tummers?
I am happy!
I am annoyed!
I am mildly constipated!
What? A friend with whom I have a troublingly codependent relationship has said something??? *Snuggle!* *Giggle!* *Frown!* *Gulp!* *Gasps!*
(Question: Can you *litigates*? *philosophizes*? *establishes political foundation by which our future republic shall be run*? *thinks dirty thoughts while pretending to pay attention in church*? *feigns enthusiasm*? *sucks up*? *represses urge to pee*? *regrets life choices*? *ignores funny taste in mouth*?)
I think I would like Twitter better if it were more like Survivor, The Bachelor, and American Idol -- once you have proven yourself useless, ugly, or untalented, you have to leave the twittersphere in a slump of shame. NO CONFETTI OR MONEY OR ROSES FOR YOU!
Granted, there will always be someone who was in the Top 3 all season long and then suddenly sends a model down the runway wearing nothing but neon pink string and washers (DAMN YOU, EMILIO! RT: @emiliosmodel: I'm gonna straight up murder that douche) but the possibility of being called the weakest link would forever force people to try their hardest be on their A-Game.
(Mixed metaphors = mark of tired Ru. *slowly dies inside* #needssteak&aDietCoke #existentialcrisis)
NO MORE FAILURE, INTERNET. Let's all commit to reaching beyond the easily grasped standard of mediocrity, and remove this specter of asshatism from our collective generation. Together, we shall move forward with all means of valor, casting false self-deprecation in the form of announcements of "failure," exclamation points, and any mention of chocolate by the wayside, knowing these things to be mere crutches of the intellectually untaxed and Cathy comic strip wannabees, and striving for a reduction of lameness and oversharing, which is the truest mark of honor and glory we may hope to achieve.
Try outdoing that in 140 characters, bitches.
* I'M SORRY, I FEEL STRONGLY ABOUT TWITTER, OK?
Thursday, August 11, 2011
View from my porch
So every day when I come home from work and free Spence from Puppy Prison (it's always either the bathroom or his crate, don't worry), I ask him a simple question: Is it a good day for puppies?
As it turns out, it always is.
As it turns out, it always is.
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