Tuesday, October 26, 2010

To write or not to write

The thing about blogging is that there is no filter. Which is great in a lot of ways. You can't blame anyone else for what gets put up.  It's your own genius or stupidity.  But if you (and by you I mean me) are blogging in part to brush up on your writing skills, if your goal is to become a better writer, it's a longer, slower, windier road than if you had, say, a teacher or an editor telling you enough with the commas already.  Or that sentence is really boring, but that one is ok. And also, that is not a real word.  You get a B.   This is exactly how in my train of thought an editor would interact with me, except somehow there would be red ink all over everything (I don't care that it's all digital).

I think that once a blog or an author starts getting more feedback from readers themselves it can serve some of the purpose of an editor.  Readers can certainly be harsh enough - I read enough blogs to see some pretty direct criticism.  And the internet is pretty amazing in that it is one of the only forums where we can interact with total strangers without any sort of filter.  Back before it was around there were newspapers, magazines, radio, tv, even personal ads - but they were all to some degree filtered through at least one other layer.  This is great for freedom of speech, not so nice for accuracy sometimes.  Wonderful for individualism, not so amazing for grammar.  So basically, I guess, I'm kind of reaching a conclusion that everyone else got to ten years ago.  I love that I can write online, but sometimes for my own growth I wish there was a built in editor or critic.  I guess that's what writing classes are for.

Oh, by the way, if anyone wants to read some actual articles I've been writing about Brooklyn, check it out here:
http://www.associatedcontent.com/user/791318/lucrezia_wise.html

Still no editor feedback, for the most part, but I try to stay more on track when writing these.

Sunday, October 17, 2010

Winter

I'm a Miami girl. I may not have been born there, and I may have moved away a few times in the past, but when in comes to the climate I'm most comfortable in bring me 90 degree weather all the way.  This has been a hard adjustment for me to make in New York. As much as I love the city and all its many activities in winter I just want to hibernate with some warm soup and good books.  There aren't many good reasons to venture out, in my opinion.  However, in the interests of being an optimist, here are a few things that are not completely horrible about winter in New York City.

1. The Christmas Fairs (or holiday fairs, if I'm being politically correct).  I love them.  There is no similar semi-permanent market during the winter months in Miami that I'm aware of.  And even though it's an outdoor market and therefore completely freezing, it is just what I pictured Christmas and winter to be like when I was still basking in the warm sun of Florida.  I do a lot of my Christmas shopping here because I am a total sucker for these kitchy homemade craft things, and it is one of the few things that will get me to voluntarily spend an hour or two outdoors in winter.

2.  Ice rinks are pretty cool too. I actually even wrote an article about them on Associated Content.  I only end up going a couple times each winter and I'm very very bad at it but it is, again, one of the pictures I had of winter in my head back when outdoor ice rinks were more of a theoretical issue.  I feel very New Yorky when skating around the rink and the cheesy Christmas music they blare only adds to that.

3.  Winter clothing is cute for the first couple months. But then again, so is summer clothing. I'm maybe calling this one a draw.

4. Snow. I'm enough of a southerner to still get a little excited by it, though the first flush of new love has  passed.

Aaannndddd...that's all I can think of for now. I'll try to come up with a few more, if only to chant them to myself in February when ALL I WANT TO DO IS DIE and the cold feels like it will never, never end.  So.  Yay winter?

Friday, October 8, 2010

Um. No.

They are out of their damn minds. New York subway fares are being raised again. They are now going to be $104 for a monthly card. When I moved here, just over two years ago, I believe it was around $70.  They keep going like this and they're going to be priced at about the cost of the average mortgage in a few years.

Monday, October 4, 2010

Hookey

I'm totally supposed to be writing a real article about NYC politics. But instead I'm watching two different tv shows (Hulu and my big old box tv), eating pasta and licorice and basically just letting my brain melt into a big puddle. Not actually productive.  Unless zombies are around who need a little brain soup (yum!).

However, this whole brain puddle thing makes me think of that scene in Eat Pray Love where the Italian dude lectures Julia Roberts about how Americans basically don't know how to relax or live the good life. We all just work work work until we collapse mindlessly in front of a tv, too exhausted to enjoy the fruits of our labors. I was all hahaha stupid Americans when I saw that (I tend to choose which nationality I relate to most depending on fluctuating but scientific factors at any given moment) but you know what? I'm totally falling prey. I've been writing the associated content articles, working my regular job and also catering most weekends and my brain is just a little bit fried.  I clocked at 75 hours one week, which I'm sure some fieldworker in Guatemala will scoff at (while doing their daily required read of my blog) but dude, that's a lot for me.

This means that I'm kind of blowing off an article assignment because I don't want to deal with it. My Catholic guilt (it must be a genetic thing - I don't even go to church) will certainly kick in and I'll at least start on it tonight, but ...not...just...yet.  There's tv to watch.

Allergies

I may actually be a cat myself. I base this supposition on the fact that my cat has been a little coughy lately (I'm keeping an eye on it) and I've been stuffed up to. Which means we must be the same species to have the same virus. Which means I'm a cat. Or that she's human. I'll keep you posted when I figure out which.