Titles are annoying, part II: Things I dislike and the upside of reality.

I hate reality at times. My hatred is personal and global. It’s probably not really hatred. “Hate” is a strong word I try to use sparingly. I want to hold it back, keep the impact intact for situations that are really deserving. Like, “I hate Nazis.” I dislike reality at times. My dislike is personal and global. Reality is, at times, wholly annoying...

Titles are annoying, Part I.

"Titles are annoying, both status-based and written. Social titles are annoying, creating an artificial hierarchical structure that I refuse to buy into. Titles for written works are also annoying. Creating new ones over and over is onerous. I hate trying to be clever and attention-grabbing. I hate trying to summarize my thoughts in seven words or less. If I could do that, I wouldn’t need three pages of writing. I would be queen of the aphorism..."

The value of a life.

Why isn’t what I do “living a life”? Because I don’t consider it to be. I’m always vaguely apologetic when people ask “what do you do?” I shuffle and deflect and respond that I don’t do much, I kind of write, sort of, it’s nothing really. I dismiss how I spend my days and give the impression that writing isn’t really that important to me...

Negotiating the contradictions.

I’ve mostly quit smoking. Kind of. I’m trying. I read Allan Carr’s book “Easy Way for Women to Quit Smoking” last week. He’s quite the guru and the book is the bomb; this is the best I’ve ever felt about quitting, despite the fact that I’m still sneaking a puff or two every so often. And yes, I know that’s the road to ruin or at least the road to back to half a pack a day but for some reason or other, despite my change in attitude and despite the interesting things I learned about smoking, I just can’t bring myself to fully cut the cord, pull the trigger, break the connection. The good thing is that those puffs are starting to taste quite nasty...