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I know from my last post you might be a little concerned that a 30 “family” pack of Bud is in poor taste.

from my last post Photo: courtesy of my mom

And it is. See not everyone has a large family. Take mine for instance. Since my oldest moved out, it is just my husband, my little one, and me. There must have been many small families, like mine, who called in to voice their complaint. And they listened. Because now they have a 12 “family” pack for just $999.

Small Family Deal (photo: courtesy of my mom)

Yes, folks, you don’t need a second mortgage to afford a 12 pack. You see, $83.25 per beer is a lot more doable than $1999 for 30 beers (though, there is a cost savings with this number at $66.63 per beer). I know we have a growing child, but 30 beers is excessive. We don’t want to be show offs

While I applaud their efforts at customer satisfaction by offering less product for more money, I still think we small families get the shaft. But hey, the price of gas has gone down. Maybe it’s all connected.

In tough financial times, we all need to shop strategically, scan the sale ads, and keep an eagle eye out for super deals. My mom has such an eagle eye, because here, at this place they got gas in Oklahoma, you can get a “family” pack of Bud for cheap. Now parents don’t have to hog all the booze themselves, not with the family pack deal. Heck, maybe next week they can get a family case of Marlboros.

Photo: courtesy of my mom

P.S. When I showed this pic to my husband, all that really caught his eye was the cheap price of gas. Men.

Behind the times

I am not a techie IT girl. I have a cell phone made before last month (collective gasp). Actually I bought it about 10 years ago. I does nothing but make and receive calls (more gasping). The lid is broken and can’t be flipped to make a call but gingerly opened, nurturing that last hinge. It’s a pay as you go. And I can’t take a picture with it. The cell phone before that was called a car phone and was the size of a loaf of bread.

I still read books that have a cover and can be used as a lamp stand afterwards. I’ve seen those computer books from a distance, and I wonder what it’s like to finish and not put it up on the book shelf like a trophy.

                           

My laptop is in worse health than my cell phone. To get it to work, you have to jimmy the cord until you get a connection then hold it there without moving or breathing until it feels a shift in the rotational orbit of the earth around the sun and then it dies right there. It must charge that way and then you have to unplug the cord and work on the dimly charged battery that lasts around 15 minutes.

I can’t afford a replacement and wouldn’t know how to buy a new one if I had the means. Technology moves too fast for me and laptops do things now that would require a PhD to master.

I write this from my desktop. A very old desktop.

It does things I know it to do. It also does things I don’t know it to do, which is more than I know, which is very little. So needless to say when I go on vacation these days, I am somewhat cut off from the world. No Blackberry, no lap top, nada, nothing, zilch.

I got back Tuesday evening and am still catching up.

Can’t fix ugly

From the mouth of Ron White: “You can’t fix ugly.” No truer words were ever said.

Every day I wake up to a new invented hairstyle. Never a dull moment surrounding my head—inside as well, but that’s self-evident if you’ve been hanging around my blog for longer than, say, one post.

Sometimes I can get so discouraged with my hair that I take comfort in the sight of uglier people. It’s been a while since I’ve sunk so low as to visit uglypeople.com. I had no idea it turned into a porn sight. What a letdown. So I did what any self-disrespecting ugly-haired seeker of the unsightly would do. I sought consolation in viewing ugly animals.

I’m not as much of an animal lover as I previously thought. Because the winner of world’s ugliest dog contest is so ugly that if I came across it unexpectedly, I would probably kill it in a knee-jerk reaction.

2011 winner

I think it might be uglier than the three-time winner of the world’s ugliest dog—who, had it not died in 2005, would likely be a nine-time winner. I know this is all very mean for me to admit publicly, and I might regret it later, but for right now, I just had to get my feelings off my chest.

(Note: two hours have passed and I still do not regret ugly-dog bashing.)

I’ve got to ask: Could you love something that ugly? And does comparing your looks to that of an ugly dog count as esteem building?

There’s a piece of writing advice that stands the test of time. Much like the secret to weight loss is to simply reduce calories and increase exercise. No gimmick. No magic pill or elixir. No cream or special belt. Nothing but good old-fashioned diet changes and moving the body more and sitting less. There.

Now the same goes for writing. No gimmicks, music, scented candles, meditation, prayer, deals with the devil, or anything else that you need in order to write. Doing the above is fine. But not if it’s what you rely on to write.

The closest thing to a gimmick I found that actually worked to get my work in progress progressing is a subliminal message.  As my desk (I actually cleaned it up a bit to take the pic) gets cluttered with sticky notes of books to read, agents to query, and new gimmicks to try, I had the solution the whole time, right in front of my nose, a natural home remedy, trying to be noticed. I’m right here, it says, listen to me.

hint: it's a raised platform for my computer

 

So if you are wondering where I’ve been, why my blog is quiet, it’s because a certain subliminal message has taken over my brain.

Disclaimer: Sitting less is the very antithesis of writing more. Though I wholly recommend exercise. Writers need it. I need it. Oh, boy, do I need it. Bathing suit season …

Do you have any good writing advice? Or any advice that produces great results?

There’s a debate going on over at Fear of Writing on avatars and monikers. Of course I instigated. And of course I sang the post. Yes, there’s a sing-along. Never a dull moment. I’d love your comments over there. And here too. You can sing your comments, if you wish.  

Speaking of cats, there is a kitten that I need. NEED, I tell you. My life won’t be complete until I have it. Someone get it for me. http://healthypets.mercola.com/sites/healthypets/archive/2011/06/10/mini-kitten-pats-things.aspx

Clothing optional

I once read in a magazine a tip from an author on successful writing. All I remember of her tips is this: Dress for success. Dress like you care. 

I serious

She went on to say she had been writing in her sweats and jammies, not even brushing her hair, looking like something the cat dragged in (so?). Then a friend suggested she clean herself up and take her job seriously and it would reflect in her writing. She did and her writing improved along with her self-esteem.

Okay, I said to me, I’ll put it to the test. I took a shower, blow-dried my hair—styled it, even—painted my nails, wore slacks and a blouse—bra included—and a pair of low-heeled shoes.

I’ll be the first to attest that this “friend’s” advice is a load of BS. Not only did all that cut into my writing time, but I was extremely uncomfortable, hyper-focusing on my bra and shoes and not on writing. The wispy feather-strands of my hair were tickling my face, my arms were restricted in the long sleeves of my blouse, my slacks were digging into my gut, and the smell of nail lacquer was making me sick.

This friend was no friend, and this author was crazy. I mean, who does that???? (If you do, confess right here. I won’t bite. To each his/her own, right? Whatever works for you is cool with me. Nothing wrong with that. *OTHER THAN IT’S WRONG!! *the author of this post is kidding and is not passing judgment on your writing attire.)

So head on over to wordsxo, where you’ll find me, trendsetter that I am, exposed in my professional writing garb.  There, you’ll be treated to what not to wear when writing. Since she’ll be asking you what’s the most bizarre outfit you’ve ever written in, I’ll conclude by asking something more personal: What are you wearing right now? (sounds kinky)

Also, you’ll notice that Milli (check out her blog on pjs) refers to my old Twitter name of IQOkie. It is now under my regular name of Tricia_Sutton. She is aware of it but in denial. She loves the old name and followed me because of it. I side with Milli, but I took advice from a social media expert (much like the “friend” mentioned above) and changed it to my name. Tell me, should I change it back or keep my name?

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