Dog's Breakfast

My self-imposed Facebook fast is almost over (6 hours and 45 minutes to go, but who's counting?) and now is the time for me to reflect on what I did during my six weeks in the desert of no social network.

(I did try out some Instagram-meh-and I attempted a little Twitter but it was too ADHD for me.)

I watched quite a bit more TV ("Rehab Addict" and "The Rachel Maddow Show" topped the list.  I am now well informed about politics, but want to buy old houses.


I meant to write more...yeah, did't happen...but I did read some new and interesting books.  Normally I don't read many mysteries (I have a hard time warming up to a genre that centers around someone dying) but I picked up a book from my library's "Best Bets" shelf that I found intriguing.  Louise Penny's The Long Way Home is part of a series centering around a homicide inspector in Quebec.  The story had well developed characters and several other story lines going on besides just a dead body (that doesn't show up until the end).

Two of the main characters are artists and the discussion of how they approach their creations becomes an important turning point for the story.  One woman says her first attempts at paining were a mess, like a "dog's breakfast"--a confusing jumble of what she was trying to convey.  But the fact that she put it all out there, trying a new approach to art, made it a worthwhile process.

At this point I realized my writing is sometimes like the dog's breakfast (my dogs eat Beneful for breakfast and dinner, in case you're wondering).  My process often involves me just throwing it all out there and seeing what sticks.  Sometimes some stuff sticks that really shouldn't and I try to scrape off what I can.  But it doesn't have to be perfect--especially at the start--it just has to be started.  Because those dogs are hungry.  (I really don't know where I'm going with this now, but the fact is that I'm going.)

I also realized that since I wasn't sharing my blog posts on Facebook (since I'm still on my Facebook Fast) very few people are actually reading this anyway (except my mom--Hi Mom!).  Dance like no one's watching and write like no one's reading--except the one person who is biologically pre-disposition to think you're special anyway.