Wednesday, January 03, 2007

Nonesuch #246

I was thinking last night while waiting for the orange bowl to start: when was the last time someone was in my house other than me? I had joked with sally that I needed her mother and her to come to my house to help clean and it hit me, I don't know when the last time someone was in my house, other than myself. Was it 8 months when my friend from middle school came to visit and we went to the auto-show? Or did my landlord come by when the roof was being put on? They did but they did not come in the house. It is a mess but it bothers me that no one has come to visit me, not even my friends. I have gone to see them several times. I don't even get one of those "invite themselves over" situations. I promised myself when I moved into this house, I would keep this clean and somewhat orderly. Granted that was over 5 years ago and I made that promise to who became the cheating whore so is the promise still good?

Latest fantasy about bringing a girl home: She helps me clean the house.

Message to Anne: The closest Barnes&Noble is a good hour away. I live in the middle of the country and the closest thing we have to a bookstore is the book aisle in the Super WalMart. Just need to find something close, a hangout, somewhere where everybody knows your name, and they're always glad you came.

Message to Joie: Very cool your mother meeting frank mccourt. He seems like he would be a great dinner guest.

I mentioned in a previous post that mccourt inspired me to write more, but I must add a few others to the list. I started this blog so I could respond to a post that my friend and college roommate Chad had made on his blog. It was a picture of a sunrise or sunset near where he grew up. He is a writer and damn good. And to be honest, I have looked up to him and his writing for years. That was almost 2 years ago I think in February.

Second, if anyone reading this has not checked out WilWheatondotnet or WWdN: In Exile you need to check him out. He is the man. He has been blogging 5 or 6 years now. He has many readers and for a good reason, he can say more in 2-3 sentences about something like Guitar Hero 2 and give an image that stays with you.

Also, Magazine Man
who can "write 2000 words just on how he got up and made breakfast" has the same effect. (sort of quoted from Shane at nickerblog who is my inspiration for vlogging. I know I got it wrong what he said but the 2000 words part is right, I think. more to come on vlogging in the future)

I wanted to be able to express myself with words like these 3(oops, sorry Shane.4) guys do but I was going about it wrong. For so long I tried to use one of their styles, wanting to post like them and when the post wouldn't come out how I thought it should be, I would delete it and post some stupid link that I thought was cool and be done with it.I needed to find my own voice, my own style and the only way to do that is to write. And I know that I am just starting out, again, but got to start somewhere.

6 comments:

Julie Brooks Barbour said...

The worst thing you can do is compare yourself to others. It kept me from writing the way I wanted to for years. You can do it! Just write. That's all that matters.

Jonathan said...

Thanks. You are absolutely right. It only took my 15 years to figure that one out. :)

Mummy said...

your zoomcloud proves it ! you talkabout YOU!! ha ha, must be from the titles.

i nearly made magazine man number 1 on my list instead of wil, but i have given out his story about blaze capture to too many non-blogger/Reallifers. I'm so paranoid its ridic.

Def just write what u want, how u want. At least it was only 15 years ! (ohno, damn me pollyanna)

Jonathan said...

Joie: Yeah the words do look like they come from my titles. Hmm, will test it over time I guess.

Mummy said...

word clouds are the new sequins (which are the new black)

and urs is partic cool cos it doesnt have a border ,,, the one redeeming point of white text on black background !!

Jonathan said...

since I doubt I will be wearing sequins anytime soon, will stick with the black.