What? I'm aging?

OK, so I realize I'm in my 40s. But some days make me feel that more than others. Today, my back seems to be older than the rest of me. Out of seemingly nowhere, it tightened up like crazy yesterday afternoon.

I suppose moving around some boxes in the basement is what triggered it. It's a bit on the sensitive side since I strained it a few years ago. I helped a friend move. None of the heavy stuff, mind you. And it didn't start aching until a few days later, but that's the only logical cause. I eventually went to the doctor and got some muscle relaxers to use as needed. Haven't had cause to very often. I think I even have an unused refill left. But boy, I'm glad I've got some in the cabinet now. Sitting isn't bad. Standing isn't bad. Walking is so-so. But those transitions between are nasty! Sitting down and standing up take a lot more effort than I'd like. So I do the routine of some ice, move around a little bit, then some heat, then move around a little bit...lather, rinse, repeat.

Maybe if I promise to do some stretching exercises regularly, or go for a walk as the weather gets nicer--perhaps that will appease the back muscle spirits. I'm just not prepared for these things that start to happen as we get older. Then again, I'm not ready for my son to be a freshman in high school, either. I suppose it's all a part of growing up...for me.

Dancing With Myself

No, not a double entendre. And not an homage to Billy Idol. Just thinking aloud...or on paper...or onscreen. This is my sixth post. I don't think of something to write each and every day, obviously. And I'm OK with that. I haven't set any informal word-count goals for myself. Just trying to find my groove. I know that one of my best girlfriends has read some of my posts, but I don't know if anyone else has stumbled across me. I sometimes do click on "next blog" to see what else is out there to read. But I have yet to actually search any keywords for things that might interest me. I follow the blogs of a few people that I "know" from Twitter, and I expect I'll find more that way. But I wonder...am I ready to let them know that I'm writing? These are people whose work impresses me. They write for a living, or write as a part of their daily lives. I don't consider myself in the same league.

I think I'll keep writing for myself for the time being. Just for me and my hypothetical potential audience. I'll let you know when I'm ready to take off the training wheels.

Hashtag Happiness

If you had said the word "hashtag" to me a year ago, you would have been greeted with a glassy-eyed blank stare. "Hashtag game" might have led me to question your mental state. But now that I've been comfortably tweeting for about a year, hashtag games are a part of me. I think of them even when I'm not online. Yet, they aren't exactly witty out of context.

I don't know that I can define it effectively as I am in no way a Twitter expert. For me, it was more of a learn by doing sort of thing. At its most basic level, it's a word game, filled with clever puns. A hashtag (#, what many of us might recognize as a pound sign) is a way of tracking topics on Twitter. For example, I have been known to tweet thoughts about the TV show LOST. (As if you didn't know it was a TV show. Where have you been‽) If I add #LOST to the end of my tweet, that's a hashtag. Any tweeter can click on a hashtag and be shown all posts with that tag. That way you can find what other people are saying about a particular topic, or find other tweeters with similar interests.

But hashtags don't have to be so practical. They can also be used to find people who share your sense of humor. I've never started a game personally, but I've joined many. Someone is inspired (or possessed) to start a topic. I imagine they think of something random and post it, then hope it catches on. Tonight, I came across #puddingdialogue. Yes, you read that right. What on earth is "pudding dialogue"? I was drawing a blank. Until I read a few:

Guess I chose the wrong week to quit pudding.
Mr. DeMille! I'm ready for my pudding!
Go ahead, make my pudding.
Soylent Green is pudding!

See? It's just plain silliness. It's pudding...added to dialogue.
I did whip up a couple, too:

Nobody puts pudding in the corner.
Love means never having to say, "you're pudding!"
How many can I kill, Chino? How many and still have pudding left for me?

Other recent games include #decoratingsongs (Someone to Swatch Over Me, The Man Who Shortened Liberty's Valance), #piratesongs (Shake Your Booty, Peg Leggy Sue), and #meatmovies (Akeelah and the Beef, Kiss the Grills).

It's incredible how many people jump on the hashtag wagon at any moment. If you're busy, you don't have to play. Nobody will be offended by your absence. For me, it's fun to get my mind working that way, getting caught up in the goofiness. Helps me stay in touch with my creative side, even if it's just the bad pun part. And if someone retweets it (copies and shares your post with their followers), that's just like applause for me. Just a little validation that somebody else found worth in what I said.

It's not everyone's cup of tea, and that's perfectly OK. But I make myself chuckle, and that has to be a good thing.

The "other" ides

The inspiration did hit me for a few puns to post on the Ides of March (if you're interested).

If it's a hot, sunny day at the playground, beware the slides of March.
If rollercoasters make you sick, beware the rides of March.
If you're watching your diet, beware the Kentucky Frieds of March.
If you have an injured hamstring, beware the strides of March.
If you're on your first lion safari, beware the prides of March.
If it's your first visit to Haight-Ashbury, beware the tie-dyeds of March.

Figured I'd Caesar the moment...

Beware the "I'ds" of March

I was trying to come up with a Twitter hashtag game appropriate for March 15. Beware the Brides of March...the Tides of March...the Slides of March... Clearly, I didn't come up with anything that memorable. So my mind went to all of the I'ds in my life.

I need to be more aware of I'd as an excuse, something undone in my past, something that isn't "my fault." Works especially well with but. I'd have read Shakespeare's Julius Caesar, but the professor didn't assign it. I'd get in better shape, but a gym membership is so expensive. I'd be great at that job, but they're looking for a degree I don't have. I'd be a happier person, but sometimes it seems the universe is out to get me. I'd start writing again, but I've got kids to raise. I'd like to see my girlfriends more often, but it's so hard to coordinate calendars.

So how about turning some of those negative I'ds into positive ones? Taking some responsibility for my life in the present and the future. Now, I'm no motivational speaker. And I can't say I've mastered this art. But I'd like to try.
I'd be happy to help with the bake sale. Our kids aren't this age forever.
I'd be crazy not to apply for the job. It can't hurt to try.
I'd like to learn the secret of your coffee cake, Grandma. Will you teach me?
I'd love to hear what you've been up to. Margaritas Friday, coffee Saturday, or Bloody Marys Sunday?
I'd rather not wake someday, older and grayer, wishing "If only I'd..."

Foggy Friday

It was a rather gloomy day today, much like the rest of the week. Luckily I had no traveling to do (not even to a job, unfortunately). But if I were to look for the bright side, at least the day lends itself to alliteration. Foggy Friday. I'm an alliteration aficionada. I'm a grammar groupie. I'm a language lover. And I'm learning to embrace it!

I suppose I was always this way. I did win (or was it place?) in a citywide spelling bee in middle school. I will always remember the word I missed somewhere along the line: flivver. Who knew there were words with two v's?! (Gotta find an interrobang shortcut.) But my inner red pen really started to emerge, naturally, when I was hired as a proofreader. Someone was actually paying me to make sure words were spelled correctly and sentences made sense! People would ask me how to spell things or for an opinion on phrasing. I felt like an expert, at least in my own little world. Then I discovered that there were other people who cared about the same things. I had friends who would cringe as much (almost) as I at an incorrect "its." And for those who didn't get it, at least they knew that it mattered to me and humored my borderline obsession.

Then...I met...Twitter. At first glance, I wouldn't have thought that I could learn much or say much in 140 characters. But lo and behold, there are grammar geeks who are geekier than I am! Editors and writers and people of all sorts who respect the language yet know how to have fun with it. People who celebrate Grammar Day (March 4) and Punctuation Day (September 24). People who can correctly use the words tautology and virgule. People who who "get" why apostrophes matter.

I am but a small fish in a very large pond. But I am tickled pink to be swimming in the same school.

Hmmm...seems to no longer be Friday. But there's nothing wrong with a showery, slushy, soggy Saturday.

So...this is a blog

I was talking to a friend last week about what we want to do with our lives. Sometimes it's difficult to pinpoint what sort of career you'd like (not to mention actually getting a job in that field). But doing what you enjoy can help point you in the right employment direction. And if it's what you want to do, then it's not really about the money. So we both decided to write more often. Not because we're getting paid to, not because someone gave us an assignment, not because we pinky-swore we were both going to do it, but because it's a part of us. A part we need to explore more often. So it begins.

I was a proofreader (the "red pen") at a small advertising agency for 11 years. Due to circumstances beyond my control, as they say, I've been laid off. And I'm OK with that. I was darn good at it, and I liked the job and the people; it was...comfortable. But perhaps the universe is telling me that it's time to try another path. (I would have appreciated something less drastic, though I suppose it's possible I missed some more subtle signs.)

There are myriad topics I could write about. And I honestly don't know how often I will be moved to actually put those thoughts down on virtual paper. But there's a saying, something about long journeys starting with a single step. This is my first step.

If you know me, then some of these thoughts may make sense to you. If not, then check back now and then to see how they fit into my life:

MBT...best girlfriends...Oxford Comma...the Slasher...not a dog person...LOST...Nathan Fillion...David Cassidy...Barry Manilow...the grammar of Twitter...Chinese buffet...wine snob...grammar snob...blue glassware...window clings...I know there were many more ideas running through my head last week. I'm not worried; they'll come to me.