There are any number of reasons not to post tonight. My head isn’t in it, but as I have now trained myself to be a writer, my heart is in it. Trouble is, I’ve gotten to the point where I think I know the difference. If the heart wants to write, then it’s purely evocative. It’s emotional or psychological or whatever and thoughts aren’t controlling the emotions and in the real world, that’s always bad.
But then, that’s what the blog is for. I had an article due that I should have done last night, but I didn’t do it for a number of reasons. Unfortunately, I found myself at our good friends’ house enjoying some dinner and wine. And, even more unfortunately, I drank a bit too much. I do mean a bit. Writing about wine, having some knowledge about it as I do, I learned long ago that drinking too much is never–and I mean never–a good thing. The best you can hope for is a thundering headache. That’s it. And that’s where I was this morning.
Fuzzy-headed mornings with a slight hang-over and a developing migraine don’t make for a good combination. I was aware that I wasn’t pulling my punches well and so when I wrote the article in question, it was not….uh….not my best work. This is always bad because when one is writing for pay, one should put one’s best effort forth if for no other reason than because at its heart, the whole basis of freelance writing is a simple matter of—will write for money. And heck, I’ll write for no money as I do here and as I have done and will do again at places like The Disney Blog.
So, I wrote when I wasn’t in “the zone.” Hell, I wasn’t even on the same continent as the zone. We’ll see what comes of it. The editor was nice to me–but he could tell and I think he knew that I knew he could tell.
Tonight, though, I just have it in my heart and not my head and so I post. Sounds noble, yes? “I emote, therefore I post.” Well, it’s not nobility. It’s just Saturday night shenanigans.
Speaking of such, saw G-force today. Meh. It was fun. We had Peanut and a friend of hers with us and there were some parts I laughed at, but I also fell asleep through part of it. Sue tells me I snored and she awakened me. I don’t doubt it. There’s that hangover business again.
The special effects were underwhelmingly good, as we have come to expect from movies nowadays. Nicholas Cage should get some sort of award fro reprising his role from Peggy Sue Got Married. His Uncle Francis directed that one, and he affected the weirdest nasally, dumb guy voice in the movie–and it never worked for me. It sounded like a cartoon figure. Which is exactly why it worked well here because he was a cartoon figure–a mole to be precise. Speckles to be even more precise.
And it was multi-cultural with white guinea pigs, black guinea pigs, Latina guinea pigs–all of them working together in harmony. Aren’t we all cool now? Well–unless you’re a police officer in Cambridge, MA–but that’s another story, eh?