Have you ever farted in a crowded department store? OK, wait, I have to remember my audience...
You know when you fart in a crowded department store, and then dash off to some remote location where a person would stand who couldn't possibly be responsible for the impending chaos? Do you wait a moment and then return to the scene of the crime to see if the damage was as serious as you imagined?
Thats kind of how I feel about my last post. Now, don't think I'm backing down from my latest scheme - I do intend to pursue a path of writing, although I don't know how much longer my enthusiasm will fuel the ship. It's just that I was feeling a bit heady when I most recently blogged, and you can't imagine how shy I feel now. I haven't been back to this blog in... what, a few weeks? I didn't even read the kindest comments from Tommy and Laura until tonight. (PS, Tommy, the answer is a resounding Yes). I was planning on writing a blog about how excited I am to be flying off to Vegas for the marathon in a few days, and then I remembered: oh yeah, I farted here. And people know about it. They are even trying to pretend like my idea doesn't stink.
I've heard that a good rule to follow when you are trying to quit smoking is to tell everyone that you're quitting. Makes you more responsible to your commitment. You should have heard the number of friends I told at Thanksgiving - hey, I'm going to pursue a writing career. And they all smiled and patted me on the back: "Great idea, Tara." I have very supportive, terse friends. Unfortunately they also have good memories. Between this blog and Thanksgiving, I guess I'd better at least give writing a try. So why does it feel like I can't form a sentence? Suddenly its painfully obvious to me that I can't type, I am obssesed with commas, and I'm not an alcoholic. So, crap, I've got a lot of work to do.
I guess this rambling post was just a series of observations on a new adventure. I would also like to state for the record that I always thought the writer in the family was my sister, and I still do. In conclusion, I would like to restate my thesis in the context of the bigger picture of life: I think farts are hilarious and worth writing about.
5 comments:
Hey you - first off - BEST OF LUCK on the marathon! Break a leg. Wait, that's not a really good luck thing with runners... As they said in Italy, "Vie! Vie!" (Though I know they were really screaming, "die! Die!")
Don't let the amount of time you put into a blog equate "I can't be a writer."
You just have to do it. What do you call someone who bakes cakes every day? A baker. What do you call a woman who sleeps with johns for money? A hooker.
So all you have to do is write every day. Do it every day. If you do that - you're a writer. It's that easy.
xoxo
-C
Seriously, your constructive feedback on the Team 10 script is now discredited. Now I can just say "Oh yeah, well remember when you blogged about farting in department stores? Who's juvenile now? Huh! Huh!"
Yes, I have written about farts. But they weren't homophobic farts, and so my critique of Team Ten remains credible.
how about when you fart into your hand and then smell it? that's funny, eh
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