Completely Crass!

I don't normally address topics like this in my writing terribly often, but this is something that's bothered me for years and I just have to have an outlet:

Public Restroom Etiquette

I work in an upscale-area of Atlanta, GA, in an up-scale building. The bathrooms have beautiful marble counters and tile floors. Everything is high-end (or at least upper-middle end) and the restrooms rarely even have an odor (unless the odiferous individual has only recently departed).

So how is it that, at least twice a week, some individual of the female persuasion flouts convention (and hygiene) by depositing liquid fecal matter on the back of the toilet seat, then has not even the courtesy to wipe it up?

Were I the offender, I believe that I would surely be aware of my propensity for projectile "poop". I find it highly unlikely that a functioning adult (presumably, as there are no daycares in our building) would fail to recognize that they had left behind a mess. That being assumed, this means only one thing: They are aware of their indiscretion and consciously CHOOSE to leave the stall without affecting a clean-up.

It is so beyond my comprehension and so utterly revolting, I wish desperately to type up a message and affix it in the stall where the offense most often occurs:

If you SHIT on the SEAT, please CLEAN it UP!

Simple, effective, to the point... and probably a quite pointless gesture. I have little doubt that it would be removed before anyone was properly motivated to correct their unfortunate habits!

Oh, Those Songs of Our Youth

I have had a thing lately for Fleetwood Mac. I'm not even that creative about it - I like all of their songs that were their biggest hits. I listen to a lot of satellite radio (Sirius at work and XM in my car) and I glom onto those songs like a thirsty baby on a boob whenever they come on. There seems to be something familiar about them that defies definition... But, I am afterall a writer, so of course I will try to define it!

I think the songs remind me of the pleasant times during my childhood. The reason why I like the top hits is no real mystery, I guess. They were simply the ones I heard most on the radio. There were no CD players, I don't think we really had an 8-track player that I remember and albums were not something my parents had a lot of extra money to go buying a bunch of. (There was always a copy of The White Album around, of course.)

The memories that rise to the surface are of our house in Virginia on the Chesapeake Bay called Pineview where I had a treehouse named Little Pineview. My father and grandfather built it over a long weekend in the rain and both got sick. I loved to go up there (because my sisters, both under the age of three) couldn't follow me there. I had a tree stump table and chairs, two windows on leather hinges and an unbounded imagination. I pretended to fight off indians and water moccasins, cure people (of what I don't know) with ground up tree bark, and just generally created as much made-up life as I could. I wasn't very fond of having to share my dad's time with my sisters, but up in my treehouse, I really didn't have to share with anyone. Perfect for a child of SIX!

I really don't know how those memories tie to the Fleetwood Mac songs - it's one of those organic things that just spawns an outpouring of memories that is hard to collect, hard to stem and just plain hard to express. I'll probably keep hunting for those songs for a good while - they're good for opening up a vein and finding story fodder!

Oh! And I want to post about Writer's Block, but it'll have to wait because I gotta get to work! Stay tuned!

Oh, but it's ME... a couple years ago!

Joining Up

I have joined Storywrite.com and am (cough) slighty appalled at what passes for storytelling. Their point system is also a bit confusing... Oh well, I have to start somewhere to regain my critical thinking skills.

I want to tell so many of these writers that just because you CAN post a story, doesn't mean you SHOULD. It's not that I don't wish for them to become writers - I certainly am not worried about any "spotlight sharing" - I just wish they had a better idea of what makes a good story. Oh, and why their story isn't good yet. I will always allow for the benefit of the doubt that they could improve.

Whew, apparently I needed to rant after spending two hours of my Sunday morning reading drivel that other people were praising with words I would reserve for much better writing. I just hope I can hunt out some pieces worth reading and commenting on in my next several trips there.

Favorite Words

It's been rather longer than I had intended since I first started this blog. (Please refer to my previous blog comment about serial passions keeping me from the laundry.)

I thought it funny last night as I read from Carolyn See's book "Making a Literary Life" that she would mention Favorite Words... and how to avoid them in your writing.

Every writer has a set of favorite words that s/he tends to overuse and I think I've found two of mine: copasetic and ostensibly. However, I will admit to verbal abuse of these two words rather than written overuse. As a matter of fact, I usually forget how to spell "copasetic" and have to rely on SpellCheck to help me out so I am very aware of my written usage of that particular word.

I have also cut down on "hopefully" because MSWord nails me on it every time with a little green underline.

Now that I've remembered that I HAVE a blog, "hopefully" you'll see me back here more often!