Friday, September 24, 2004

pick me a tart or pick me apart

jay-sue-chris, having a blog is a lot of work-- like a piddling puppy or a bonsai tree. sure, i asked for it, and i won't return it to blogspot.com's doorstep with an "i don't want him anymore" note, or leave it on the windowsill to fester like i do most of the plants in my care. i asked for this blog, and i have to be prepared to be scrutinized at any moment. i won't try to apologize for the inaccuracies, but i will explain why some of them occur.
first, if you notice the time each blog is posted (i change it manually every day to ensure its accuracy), it's the middle of the night. no excuse, but an explanation. next, my posts are destructively lengthy (see: later in blog). and, i am lazy and am not used to editting my paper journals (i don't even use paragraphs or cross out mistakes, to give you an idea), so kind of translate the feel to my blog. bad idea? sure. true? yes. sentence structure is absolutely not a concern of mine here-- i aim to be more playful and loose with my words and their relation to each other. but spelling mistakes are pretty much inexcusable and embarassing. i see them in other blogs.
i almost vomit.
there are some words that perhaps i simply don't know how to spell, and i wish some spell-alarm would ring off at an inignorable (huh?) blood-fucking screech, bringing my attention the pathetic error. someone invent that, yo, and stick it in me.
i have received a few corrections, both in detail and in grammar/syntax (thanks, few faithful readers). some i corrected quickly hoping nobody would notice, the others i point out and hang my little flushed face.
i'm not perfect in action, or even on paper. not even given an opportunity to lie and edit myself. see it. read it. it's me.
sure, there are some of you with near-pristine quality blogs-- but they're not as long as mine, and hey-- you don't write in them as often --probably because a) it's hard work or b) you, unlike me, realize there's only so much worth saying, or c) you have, like me, other shit to do-- so, uh, BLAH! or maybe you just have less to do, so you sit around an edit your pretty little blog all day. so, well-- edit your blog 'til your nose falls off!
oh, and don't mind my colloquialisms, ruralisms, regionalisms, shortforms, pretend or questionable words, or slang. why? because i said so.
and finally, there are some typos i notice after publishing that i leave in because, well, i feel like it. sure it's careless, but i have a lot to do and another journal (arguably more important) to write in tonight. and it's three am. blah!
i should attempt to improve my blog and therefore myself-- another fucking project. step 1: self-editting. i know my blogs are too long. this leads me to another self-improvement project that i can apply to reality-- oh, self-editting-- here we are again.
my tangents go off on tangents.
i'm fucking yappy, i know.
this isn't news to me, really. greg's been calling me yappy for years (and rightfully so), but it's been brought to my attention again recently, "whoa, dude-- your mind goes too quickly" and then i realized i am difficult to follow-- not because i'm deep or cryptic, but because i get too excited and blab on incessantly (do i? really? am i?.. oh, yeah.) i have to address this, or at least do a survey. so i did. got a couple yesses and an "uh, i don't even think i noticed it (spoken kind of tentatively), but if so, it's endearing." yay!
and on the note that inspired this blog, i'm pretty sure that rupaul (sans hypen-- another fucking mistake, asshole) is a drag queen sans sex change. funny that my instincts told me that sterling's story was flawed, but it was so fucked that i retold it--without checking my facts (and i was bragging about doing my fucking kerry ketchup research yesterday before spreading the myth). so, i checked out
rupaul's site -which by the way, is fantastic, and has a blog on it, and has a great year-by-year run-thru of his facsinating life, which can also be read about in his book letting it all hang out.
and get this: (and this is true, i heard it first hand from my brother, who is very trustworthy [altho wanted me to be clear about him not ever mentioning the kerry-ketchup-chemical idea. truthfully, i'm pretty sure it was him. he's given me 48 hours to decide if it really was him. anybody? was this anyone else? did i dream this? was one of us too high? both of us? help!] rupaul stayed at my brother's hotel last night. blake was all like, hey-- i wish i could've gone, but you know, i'm here and all and couldn't go. so rupaul was all like, hey, i'll give you your own private little dance, and did just that in the front lobby just for him. it lasted a couple seconds, but he did it. and now i'm just a degree of separation from rupaul. wow.
lesson(s) learned today: (or at least that i've been achingly aware of lately) 1) it's good to calm down. also, 2) self-edit (this has been one i've been learning bit by bit, the rat-in-an-electric-maze kinda way for a while now. i will start tomorrow. geezis gemini!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! thanks, mom, for being a slut the august you were 14.
oh, and look at me: i can make links work now (see above).

2 comments:

crystal said...

I love your blog. I love the excited run-on-sentance chatty tangents you take. Except, I have only just started reading it. I wanted to catch upt o now by starting with your archives, but I don't have the time. When you mentioned RuPaul, I was going to post a link to his blog, but I see you already found it yourself. Blake got a private dance?? Yay!

lucifuge said...

crystal, thanks for the comment. i wish more people were into commenting. shame on them. glad you like m'blog, and appreciate the chatty tangents-- because try as i might, i have a difficult time paring my words down. thanks for linking my site, btw. i have gotten quite a few hits on my blog that way. hope to run into you in the hood soon.