Marc
On Stage Fright
Zach brought up the topic of overexposure (kind of) occurring almost every time we get a link from The Wire. I, unfortunately, read Bob's comments yesterday before I wrote anything and found myself on this here "edit your blog" page having myself a brand new case of stage fright.***1*** I stared at my monitor for about ten minutes, wrote something stupid about something that wasn't important, erased, tried writing something else, and then, finally, I gave up. What the hell are all those strangers going to think of me when they see that I can't think of anything better to talk about than how I had to write a stupid paper about Yugoslavia or how much I hate onions, or whatever? You know what I'm saying? It was hard. I couldn't do it.
So, that's that. Today, the link is still up over there, but, for some stupid reason, since it was yesterday's post and not today's post, I'm able to put something down. Go chalk me up for me being an idiot.
***1*** not unlike the stage fright that occurs to men when forced to stand side-by-side with other men at urinals in crowded public bathrooms. I usually, just like with writing, don't get it, but I'll tell you this -- TheGuyWhoOnlyKnowsHowToBeMean in my writing class stood two urinals away from me in the men's room during our break from class the other night when there were three available urinals against the opposite walls with no one around them, and suddenly, I'm dry as a desert. Couldn't have peed if I had wanted to ... and I did.
On Drunken Posts
Definitely a bad idea. Hands down. Drunk posts = bad idea. First, there's the incorrect grammar and spelling errors, which always make someone come off sounding kind of silly and uniformed. Then there's the over-/under-generalizations, etc, where anything and everything is categorized and filed away when, in reality, we all know that nothing's a matter of truth or lie, black or white, right?
Now, an obvious exception to drunken posting is drunken posts for hilarity's sake. Take, for example, Liz's drunken posting over at the New Topography. It's embarrassing, sure, if you're that person, but it's funny because it's written in good humor, and, obviously, in/within (high) spirits. People don't laugh at you. They laugh with you, which ends up making you feel kind of warm and fuzzy, not unlike being a little drunk. Matt Fast is living proof that drunken posts can (a) make absolutely no sense, and (b) be really funny all at the same time.***2***
It's best, though, to stay away from posting while drunk and at/or deeply entrenched in emotional states. 'Kay?
***2*** ps. if you scroll one post down from the second one, you'll find the infamous "gay mercedes" IM conversation between Matt and myself. Those were the days.
On Bedhead
It seems that I have trapped myself in a permanent downward spiral of bedhead. For the rest of my life, I fear, this curse will follow me. My students, in a few years, will not refer to me as Mr. H_______, but instead as "Hairy" for my random tangents of hair. Baseball hats don't cure it. Stocking caps don't cure it. Water doesn't cure it. The only thing that does, I've discovered, is showering after waking up, but I'll be damned if I'm going to get in the shower before 8am Tuesdays and Thursdays. The rest of the week is just me being lazy, but still, I maintain I will not shower before I have to do anything important. One lifelong order of bedhead for me, thankyouverymuch.
And I'm gone. Gots to go practice my "Amazing Grace" song. Peas.
On Stage Fright
Zach brought up the topic of overexposure (kind of) occurring almost every time we get a link from The Wire. I, unfortunately, read Bob's comments yesterday before I wrote anything and found myself on this here "edit your blog" page having myself a brand new case of stage fright.***1*** I stared at my monitor for about ten minutes, wrote something stupid about something that wasn't important, erased, tried writing something else, and then, finally, I gave up. What the hell are all those strangers going to think of me when they see that I can't think of anything better to talk about than how I had to write a stupid paper about Yugoslavia or how much I hate onions, or whatever? You know what I'm saying? It was hard. I couldn't do it.
So, that's that. Today, the link is still up over there, but, for some stupid reason, since it was yesterday's post and not today's post, I'm able to put something down. Go chalk me up for me being an idiot.
***1*** not unlike the stage fright that occurs to men when forced to stand side-by-side with other men at urinals in crowded public bathrooms. I usually, just like with writing, don't get it, but I'll tell you this -- TheGuyWhoOnlyKnowsHowToBeMean in my writing class stood two urinals away from me in the men's room during our break from class the other night when there were three available urinals against the opposite walls with no one around them, and suddenly, I'm dry as a desert. Couldn't have peed if I had wanted to ... and I did.
On Drunken Posts
Definitely a bad idea. Hands down. Drunk posts = bad idea. First, there's the incorrect grammar and spelling errors, which always make someone come off sounding kind of silly and uniformed. Then there's the over-/under-generalizations, etc, where anything and everything is categorized and filed away when, in reality, we all know that nothing's a matter of truth or lie, black or white, right?
Now, an obvious exception to drunken posting is drunken posts for hilarity's sake. Take, for example, Liz's drunken posting over at the New Topography. It's embarrassing, sure, if you're that person, but it's funny because it's written in good humor, and, obviously, in/within (high) spirits. People don't laugh at you. They laugh with you, which ends up making you feel kind of warm and fuzzy, not unlike being a little drunk. Matt Fast is living proof that drunken posts can (a) make absolutely no sense, and (b) be really funny all at the same time.***2***
It's best, though, to stay away from posting while drunk and at/or deeply entrenched in emotional states. 'Kay?
***2*** ps. if you scroll one post down from the second one, you'll find the infamous "gay mercedes" IM conversation between Matt and myself. Those were the days.
On Bedhead
It seems that I have trapped myself in a permanent downward spiral of bedhead. For the rest of my life, I fear, this curse will follow me. My students, in a few years, will not refer to me as Mr. H_______, but instead as "Hairy" for my random tangents of hair. Baseball hats don't cure it. Stocking caps don't cure it. Water doesn't cure it. The only thing that does, I've discovered, is showering after waking up, but I'll be damned if I'm going to get in the shower before 8am Tuesdays and Thursdays. The rest of the week is just me being lazy, but still, I maintain I will not shower before I have to do anything important. One lifelong order of bedhead for me, thankyouverymuch.
And I'm gone. Gots to go practice my "Amazing Grace" song. Peas.
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