Tagged by p.p.b-fly

Rules are:
* Each player starts with eight random facts/habits about themselves.
* People who are tagged need to write posts in their own blog about their eight things and post these rules.
* At the end of your post, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.

Kai tagged me
with a meme about 8
random facts/habits about
me

but because I like to substitute and rearrange instructions, I say:

Kai tagged me
With a meme about 8
poetic random facts/ habits
about uncontainable
me

1. I’m not an octopus, but if I had 8 arms, I could write more poems and I could write more poems quicker!
2. Kai’s a poet. I am a poet. I am not a lonely poet.
3. I remember being a single young poet. Love and pain spurt like the ink from my pen.
4. Then I got older and more congealed. (Actually, I can still kick up my heels and spurt like the young ‘uns)
5. My journals were a catapult to poetry, back in university.
6. Now, blogging is the catapult.
7. (Shhh.Don’t tell J. Andrew this but ) I’ve forgotten what a tanka is.
8. I missed National Poetry Week, Would you believe it was in April! One month off, I can’t believe it. I was hoping for another theme month.

Now, I tag these fellow blogger poets for their own unique poetic random facts/ habits about their uncontainable selves. Have fun with it! If you're not the meme type, let me know. I will take your name off the list after you write me a 100 word comment about why you are too busy to do this meme.

1. Mompoet who is like me and likes to change the rules, wrote 8 things about herself in my comment section. That will do...
   
2. Pat Paulk
3. Art Puppy made it easy for her taggees. They only have to do a 50 word comment!
4. J. Andrew accepted the challenge.
5. RDL wrote her 100 word comment and is officially off the tag list!
6. Emily accepted the meme challenge!
7. David was quick to respond.
8. Barbara has her 8 facts up!

Bargain H. Blues

Now and again, I grieve strangely for the Thrift store that was closed down a month ago. There were 7 stores closed in the city. They were losing money, a $ million a year. Every once in awhile, I forget that the shop is empty now and crave a shopping trip.

My heart longs for the store that was once filled with real fur, leather, designer names and friendly faces. The red-haired clerk greeted us with remembrance every time. I recall the time they played a game of giveaway. The manager would roll a dice and the lucky recipient hop scotched to the back to pick out their prize. I wanted to go to the back room but you had to spend a certain amount first. We did get to go to the back eventually with only 10 minutes to spare. There were 3 racks of clothes to choose from. The clothing was from Winners and they weren’t allowed to sell it because it was a donation. They had to give it away. We found a skirt and a cotton jacket. What a fun give away game

Now it is gone. There is always Value Village but it is not the same. There are no friendly greeters at the door. There are no phone calls reminding the faithful shoppers of sales and surprise draws. There are no giveaway games played there.

The Critic Does Her Job- A Revision

I freewrote for 30 minutes this morning, that is, I wrote without thinking. “And that is so unusual” speaks my internal critic. It is this robust internal critic that I am trying to quell. She suspects this may be a waste of 30 minutes but I recall that the past few days she has been busily preoccupied with being depressed, which is not exactly a stellar activity either.

I choose to develop what may become a talent instead of hiding it in the ground. I started reading the book, "Writing Fiction” by Janet Burroway this morning. Freewriting clears the writer’s pathway from thought to paper (or to keyboard). The exercise is best done daily at the beginning of the day before any other mental activities get in the way.


I also read the section on the active voice. My last Toastmaster’s speech introduced the concept to me but it feels unnatural to me. Convinced, I carry on.

I experienced a funny dream this morning. My husband handed me my baby girl. Phew, the smell clearly told me that she was in need of a diaper change. I held her up and realized that she could almost stand on her own. Then, my cat literally pounced upon me, jumping on the bed and waking me. The smell was evidently not a dream. Kitty! I looked around for the mess but found none. She hid sheepishly under the bed. I tried to ignore the fetor and fortunately, it disappeared. I conclude she, or someone, had a bout of gas.

I reread a book called A Separate Peace by John Knowles. I read it the first time when I was 16 years old and absolutely loved it. One moment in particular captivated me that first time. The memory of being spell bound drew me to revisit. I waited and anticipated that climatic moment but it never reoccurred! Disappointment reigned instead. I saved that book in my library to one day experience the awe of being 16 again and nothing. A lot of books under the bridge since then, I guess. I recommend it though, especially for 16 year olds.

Writing Exercise:Freewriting (Uncut Version)

I will b e studying aboookk about writing. the first I have read says to write for 3 0 minutes freestyle that is without thinking about what I am writing so as to still the critic inside of me. That will e interesting for I have a strong critic living inside of me. I desire to write so as to have some method of comuniccation available for me. So far it has been 1 minutes. Oh man.
Learning to write will take a long time and I am concerned about that of course.
So instead I have been wasting my dayss with being depresssed whih is a greater waste of time but one in which I am accumstomed to. So looking at it that way, this is not a waste of time but a developing of a talent, so as not to hide itin the ground.
A section that most interersted me was that of using an activve voice. I only heard of this in Toastmsater's. My lalst speech was about using it. It did not feel natural at all. Reading about it coninved me that this is the way to go.
So far I have written for 5 minutes and am sure tha I will be unable to write freestyle for 30 minutes. but I will continue for a while.
Does it have to be about ony one subject? Asks the critic) No I don't think so.
I am looing forward to learning what is in Glynnis's journals. I have an idea but will not give it away here.
I am not writing but thinking, pausing some which I think is not supposed to happpen. I will go for 10 minutes mainly because I don't want to bore anyone...well who cares if I bore anyone then they can just stop reading. Silly me!
I alike reading what I have written afterwords and am already curious to read.
I had a funny dream this morning. My husband handed me my baby girl who was in need of having her diaper changed. Phew, what a smell. I held her up so she could ge used to walking then I was literally pounced upon by my real life cat. She jumped on the bed and woke me. What was evidently real wasa the smell, like that of a diaper needing to be changed. Kitty! I looked arouond for a mess but fouond none. She hid sheepishly under the bed. I was not looking forward to the hunt but fortunatley it disappeared which made me conclude she had a bout of gas. Whew, almost had to change another diaper!
11 minutes.
I should try going for it, 30 minutes I mean. What would my words per minute be? I wonder. I am looking forwar d to reading this book about writing Fiction. It is by Janet Burroway and is one of the books I bought at the last book fair I was at. Remember?
There are two more bok fairs coming up! Yahoo. I love buying books.
I read a book (reread) callelld A Separate Peace by John Knolwes. I ha dread it when I was 16 years old and I remember loving it. There was one moment in particular that had me spell bound so this time as I revisited the place, I was waiting and anticipating that moment. Except it never happened. I was disappointed to the say the least. It is like I was saving tha t book to reexperience that moment of awe again. Oh well, I am not 16 anymore and I have read a lot of books since then. It whas all been heard before I gurss. I recommend it thoough, still. Especially for 16 year olds. Ack, my spelling or computer /typing glitches. So embarrassing. I am used to editing my work, yousers. Yowsers?
And an amazing 4 more minutes has passed!
Umm...
Okay, I had to stop and read what I havd written, I admit it. Maybe this should be a private exercise but I hate to waste a writing experince all to myslef now. Isn't that strange. I used to write only for myself and now, I don't want to be alone. Does that sound similar to you?
100 envelopers, 50 white envelopes are on my shelf...Have you fouond any interesting memes? Hey, this could be oe. Write for 30 minutes freestyle and I will post your name here with a link. Or is that what you do everday? Hmm. It is a good idea regardless and if you do, let me now.
3 more minutes has passed and I am still writing with nothing to say really but this is to be a good writing exercise becasue it gets the thoughts on paper or computer. Maybe I should do this everyday. That is what the book said to do. Write freestyle for 30 minutes at the beginning of the day. Preferrably before you wake up. Which remeinds me of changing a diaper.
I have no plan stoday. I have been isolating here. Feeling that I give up so easy... But I am still going on so I guess that means that the internal critic is wrong!!!
I have 8 minutes left .Can I do this and how long will this post be and who will read the whole thing?
I don't know if I can do this every morning? It is kinds fun but might be too long for a post really. I feel adolescent. I would rather sound more mature . What? That takes editing, I guess. Shhh. 6 more minutes...
Come on I dare you, it is not that hard but it might be too revealing. Like talking to a therapist. Or to Mango...
Silly me.
I want to learn to write in the active voice.
Shall I try it here?
Carol sits writing in the active voice. She improves because she keeps going, moving forward. Where did I hear that before, moving forward? It was in a movie and was a quote that Walt Disney spoke or lived by? Keep moving forward. Which is like writing this. I am not to go backwards and edit. 3 more minutes like Gumby and Pkey and the clock was ticking. Do you remember Gumby and Pokey? My sister had Pokey, the ornage claymotion Poikey and I had the green Gumbey. Anyways, there was a scene, where they were waiting for the clock to reach zero. That's how I feel now. 2 more minutes. This is hard like doing physio exercises and other uncomfortable things. which I don't want to do. 1 more minutes and I will be done. If only others didn't have to read this mess, Why do I feel a need to post this?

Pretty Women 4.2

As the confused women milled around the obese young girl, she climbed the pile of dirt amassed by the gravesite and spoke, "Glynnis believed in her beauty and goodness but look where her beliefs led her." Jolene's mouth contorted unattractively.

"Beauty isn't enough. What about truth?" Jolene's voice grew louder and stronger. "I am not a pillar of light. I don't captivate the hearts of mankind."
"Marie..." Jolene saw her hairdresser in the crowd, "are you are a goddess?" Marie slowly shook her head. "Repeating a phrase does not make it so, no matter how many times you say it!" Jolene stirred up the dirt with her feet. "Glynnis did do harm. She wasn't a pretty woman...inside. She tried to murder her husband!"
Then she sat down and cried. The women ascended the mound to Jolene one by one.

Suddenly, a tearful Baxter Duremburg, the publicist, was scrambling up the dirt pile with a paper wrapped book in his arms. "You must read this!" he said, as he handed it to Jolene. Written very neatly in the corner were the words, "The Private Journals of Glynnis Duremburg KEEP OUT"

Pretty Women Chapter 4

"Her mantra went like this: Glynnis was a good girl, who fell only when she tempted the words "I do." Then, with all her whitened glory, she fell like a leaf." Henri walked steadily towards Mr. Charleswood, took his arm and pulled him from the wheelchair. Mr. Charleswood stood trembling, scanning the crowd for a sympathetic face. Jolene moved to the front and Mr. Charleswood tried to give his explanation on his own two feet.

"When I first met her, she and this man Jeeves were marketing multi-level make-overs. Imagine my surprise upon opening the door to this pair. He with his greased mop, black leather jacket and that darned toothpick hanging from his lips; she with her bottled platinum curls, tight skirt and stilletto Payless pumps. I couldn't resist. I melted, convinced that I needed a pedicure. The man examined the Tang silver chalice on the mantlepiece while she applied the cuticle remover and smoothed the roughness from my heels. I was enchanted, we were married the next day. Jeeves was the best man."

Jolene drew closer to Mr. Charleswood. His eyes wildly roamed from face to face then rested on Jolene again. Henri moved in between them and said loudly to the crowd. "This man murdered Glynnis" and whistled. Armani, the missing dog, reappeared and bounded towards Mr. Charleswood. Armani chased the once crippled man around the graveyard.

"I am the chauffeur and brother to the deceased. William hired me after marrying my awestruck sister. He gave me a job to keep me quiet. William was the real schemer. He hired himself out to numerous faith healers who then would alternately heal him from his paraplegic state. It was in his contract to keep his ability to walk a secret."

At this point, Mr. Charleswood arrived back and collapsed on the dirt pile. Armani growled from behind, slowly removed the old man's slipper and dragged it away like a bone.

"I would never have married her if she wasn't such a pretty woman. I was duped. I am innocent. Glynnis and her evil brother were planning to poison me so that they would have the millions. They couldn't wait any longer. I heard their plans. It was self defense."

Jolene drew nearer to Mr. Charleswood and looked. Her eyes reddened as she saw the despair of a victim. A desire to protect rose up within her but in a single startling moment, his eyes reflected the fall of a murderer.

Jolene held his face in her hands then the police handcuffed him and took him away. She turned to the women around her. "Oh Glynnis..."

I'll Deal with that Tomorrow

My Husband and have term insurance with a renewal this year to almost three times the current rate.
We were approached by our broker to check out another insurance company to hopefully get better rates. This involved a physical.

The good news, the broker said when she phoned back, was that my Husband was healthy and received an elite rating but the bad news was that mine was declined.

I listened as she said that it was unusual to be declined as most people just receive a higher premium or a rider. It wasn't until after the call that I reacted to her statement.

My reaction was an intense fear that lasted 3 minutes.

Since then, I have been trying to get a letter to the broker so that the insurance company can release their files to my doctor so that I can find out what caused the decline.

Maybe I am overreacting but right now, I am in a downtime. This is when I shutdown from reality and its problems. I've been watching tv, reading, and trying not to think too much about my mortality and how I am not ready yet.

I tell myself it is the bipolar problem or the anxiety...