I knew this day would come.
The day when I feel like I have nothing to say.
Sometimes I get inspired on my morning walk – like, check out the chick at the farmers market wearing diaper jeans. That’s a blog post!
Sometimes I get inspired the night before when I’m watching TV with Steven. He watches shows for old people, like Murder She Wrote, and shows for lowest-common-denominator women who wear jewel-tone tops with black slacks and collect figurines — like a Lifetime Original Movie featuring Neve Campbell as a cop who goes undercover and lives among the Amish to solve an Amish mystery.
(I wasn’t really watching. The mystery was probably, “Who bludgeoned Righteous Brother Billiam with Sister Sarah’s butter churn?”)
The other night, he was watching a stunningly terrible Debra Messing show called The Mysteries of Laura. I thought it might make for a good blog post, but the reviews have been so brilliantly scathing that I have nothing to add. Except a few jokes at my own expense, because my name is Laura and sometimes my blog doesn’t leave much mystery.
So, this morning, I didn’t come up with anything on my walk.
My underwear was falling down and dragging my pants, which fit great right after they’re washed but then loosen up, with it, but that didn’t feel like a whole post. Especially on the heels of the diaper jeans.
I do have a stash of pre-written blog posts, but they’re for emergencies.
I save them like I save my favorite outfits. Which I should really wear more often, instead of just jeans and J Crew t-shirt with a necklace.
I also have questions that I asked you fabulous commenters for, in case this happened. But I don’t want to use them yet, either. I’m a little bit of a hoarder, and I guess it bleeds into my blogging life, too. I even save my worst ideas for later. The way my friend’s mother saves used dental floss in a bag in case she runs out.
Speaking of saving things, my parents save everything.
(I’m realizing this is a blog post idea which I should save for later, but I’ll use a little bit of it here.) When I was visiting them this summer, there was an empty Raisinettes box on the kitchen counter, next to the elaborate computer station where my Dad trolls for Jews on the Internet, emails our unauthorized regards to distant relatives and ccs the universe, or yells at AOL, which he will never ever leave, for “f*cking everything up.”
I guessed correctly that the Raisinettes were from going to the movies, because who eats Raisinettes anywhere but the movies, and then asked why my dad was saving the empty box.
He shrugged. “I don’t know, I thought you might like it for your blog.”
My dad, bless him, is always trying to help. “I met one of our neighbors’ friend’s second cousin, who may well be related to us via the Needleman/Finkel side of the family, and found out that he does the bookkeeping for a writer of infomercials. Would you like me to put you in touch with him?”
And now that I’m blogging, he offers ideas…like an empty Raisinette box.
OK, I laughed at it, but it made its way into my blog post when I thought I had nothing to write.
Thanks, Dad!
God, how did this post about nothing get so long? Sorry.
Moral of the story:
There’s always something to say, even if it doesn’t shape itself into any kind of topic. What am I going to call this ridiculous stream of consciousness post?
Now you.
Do your parents offer you work suggestions?
If you’re a blogger, does everyone suggest unsolicited ideas for blog posts?
Do you ever feel like you’ve totally run out of ideas?
Do you hoard?
Do you have a question you’d like me to answer when I dig into my emergency stash? Some upcoming topics based on questions: “How do you feel about tweaking?” [CORRECTION: THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE TWERKING – NOW I HAVE 2 POTENTIAL TOPICS] “Which famous person would you like to have ‘all up in your grill’?”
TELL ME OR ASK ME IN THE COMMENTS.
This expression of nothingness is very Zen. Even the emptiness of the raisinette boxes expresses something about nothingness.
The Amish reference is quite the metaphor for simplicity. Speaking of frugal lifestyles, I used to have a roommate that washed his dental floss after he used it and hung it up in the bathroom to dry on one of those folding wooden laundry racks so that he could reuse it later. I asked him why and he said it was to save money. I hadn’t previously been aware of the high cost of dental floss, and appreciated him pointing that out. Not. So when you think of yourself as a hoarder of blog posts, compare yourself to him and remember there are worse things to save.
I would love for your roommate to calculate exactly how much he saved by washing and air drying his dental floss. Did he use some kind of soap to wash it, or would that have been an extravagance?
Hi Cecilia & Laura,
About the raisinettes, I had put aside the money I would have spent on more boxes of such.
With that treasure, I bought stock at a low price, in Nucor Steel Corporation, after being so impressed that the President Fred Iverson, whom I had met, kept his door open to all employees. Using Japanese methods of making steel with used metal,the company is now the largest steel company in North America. So don’t count your grapes until they have dried.
David C Belgray
Dad, you’re really pushing this stock. Am I going to get arrested for some “pump an dump” scheme (wait, is that stocks or breastfeeding? Or both?) because my blog is hosting your Nucor tip?
I don’t ever count my grapes till they’re dipped in real milk chocolate.
I have nothing to say today except for DING DONG THE WITCH IS DEAD, THE WITCH IS DEAD. The witch being this fucking heatwave that we’ve had here in So Cal. Holy shit. I don’t live in Arizona for a reason. That’s really the only thing on my mind today, except for the fact that I didn’t have to put baby powder on my nether regions this morning and that I think I really want a margarita from Ponce’s tonight. Which actually does bring up a thought: I really don’t think I could survive in any place that regularly has a hot heat index AND that doesn’t have good Mexican food and great margarita.
Actually, I think I could keep going with this steam of consciousness thing, but then I might reveal to all that my brain is like a high speed computer that only doodles. So I’ll stop.
Have a great weekend in NYC Laura, I plan on doing the same in SD.
I like it hot. I wish NYC were hot year-round. The perfect temperature is where I’m motivated to go out and walk a lot, which keeps my thighs toned enough not to need baby powder because they don’t touch.
My brain is like a computer with too many windows open, which is my computer.
I guessed correctly that the Raisinettes were from going to the movies, because who eats Raisinettes anywhere but the movies, and then asked why my dad was saving the empty box.
He shrugged. “I don’t know, I thought you might like it for your blog.”
This made me laugh so hard. Thank you Laura’s dad!
I think it’s fair to say that you can write about whatever the eff you want and it will be hilarious.
Thank you!
Cecilia
Ox
That passage also made me laugh very much.
The highest compliment. Thank you!
Great blog post, Bruce! Looks like you took over talking shrimp for the day 🙂 Are you the new recorded voice that is replacing the authentic New York babbling?
I think Bruce on the subway PA system would be the perfect compromise. Articulate and annunciated, but slightly hostile.
What do you mean “slightly?”
Was “annunciated” a Freudian typo?
My problem is that I’m constantly having ideas for blog posts, and yet I don’t blog.
Here’s an idea that popped into my head yesterday. If you’re a New Yorker you have probably noticed that newer subway trains (in particular the ones that run on the L line and the E line) have installed computerized voices that announce the upcoming station and make other repetitive announcements about subway safety. While this is admirable because everyone can now clearly understand the name of the station that is approaching, it is despicable for the exact same reason.
As a person who, for the most part, despises change because I consider it a disruptive force, I now long for the days when subway car announcements came from the conductors riding in the middle of the train, many of whom seemed to have thick accents, poor diction, a tendency to mumble or all of the above. Their unintelligible babbling was part of the authentic New York experience. Furthermore, the sounds they made were like musical riffs that one could later imitate when in the shower and make fun of when getting together with friends and relatives. Replacing their unskilled voices with sterile, digitized, non-human voices is like replacing mom and pop stores with Duane Reade drug stores or Dunkin’ Donuts shops.
Now you.
How do you feel about things being replaced by things that are supposed to be superior (and probably are)?
Do you feel New York is no longer meant for New Yorkers?
Do you feel that cities are becoming less human and more sterile and generic?
Or, do you have a question you’d like me to answer?
LEAVE ME A REPLY.
Change sucks and so does anything that makes it easier for new people to live in NYC. It’s become way too hospitable. I liked it dangerous and garbled.
I almost never meet a real New Yorker in New York. They’re all in Portland, Or or something.
All that’s left is douches and douchettes with rooftop-party, Sex-and-the-City cupcake dreams.
I think we need a good, old fashioned garbage strike.
This post about nothing turned out to be pretty genius–I love reading people’s stream of consciousness writing, it makes me feel more normal lol and the thought of saved dental floss made me gag a little bit.
I hoard pens and notebooks–I have 3 or 4 books to write and draw in at any given point. There’s no organization whatsoever to it so it kind of defeats the purpose, but I still do it. Oh well.
Well thank you!
I’ve hoarded pens myself, and then found that they dried out before I even got to use them.