Happy New Year! Lizard Writes returns from an extended holiday vacation with some updates.
Ok, A number 1, Wes and I made a sweet, sweet Christmas video blog (vlog, if you will). And I can't figure out how to post it. I know, you have no reason to believe me, and I didn't think to like, hold up the newspaper in it or anything to prove that I made it last week, but it definitely exists. If you come to my house, you can watch it. It does have our Christmas tree in the background, for what that's worth.
At some point I will figure out how to convert it into an uploadable format. So look for it in June or something (no excuses!).
Second, this article. Duh. It's no secret that I <3 style="font-style: italic;">Washington Post Magazine, and want Tom Shroder's job, but I don't usually read the "Editor's Note." Today I did, and all I have to say is that I would like the last 3 minutes of my life back. Or is that not how to be funny? I'm not saying anything that anyone who read that essay would find too surprising.
(I like Dave Barry, but he doesn't often make me laugh out loud. Writing humor is hit or miss (see, e.g., this blog). I wouldn't explain my reaction to it the way Shroder does, though.)
Third, I like this song. It's playing on Shuffle Songs now. Thanks, NPR!
Showing posts with label music. Show all posts
Showing posts with label music. Show all posts
Saturday, January 3, 2009
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Look at Me, Gettin' Recognized
So, it turns out the blog I think no one could possibly care about ends up generating not one but TWO comments from people I don't know. (So cheers to Amanda and Tony and their delightful blogs.)
Anyway, that reminded me that I wanted to post about the fact that at the beginning of November I had not one but two surprise readers tell me they liked my blog. It's probably the most terrifying thing someone can say to me. Wait, no, the most terrifying thing someone can say to me is (if that person is an acquaintaince, I mean) "So I read your blog."
Now I know that if said person didn't like my blog, she probably wouldn't say anything, would just keep it to herself as her respect for me slowly wilted and died. Eventually she'd start avoiding eye contact and all our interactions would be awkward--like many of my interactions really, so maybe I wouldn't even notice.
But there's still those few seconds of pure terror and nervous laughter while I wait for that person to pass judgment on my writing and my sense of humor. And even if she says something good, it's still kind of scary.
Because, as Amanda and Tony and the many other creative types out there can tell you, making yourself vulnerable is scary as all get-out. Here's my work, judge me. While I like the idea of a lucrative blogging career, I don't have the energy/balls to pursue it. I already get paid to be a writer, and I agonize over that too.
In the words of Wes, who coincidentally just brought home his mastered CD and is now ripping it apart, "It's really fucking hard, Sweetie Pie." (It sounds amazing, btw, except for this weird thing on every "s" sound on the entire CD.)
That being said, if you do like my blog, you can tell me. I'll get over the embarrassment pretty quick in order to bask in your praise.
Anyway, that reminded me that I wanted to post about the fact that at the beginning of November I had not one but two surprise readers tell me they liked my blog. It's probably the most terrifying thing someone can say to me. Wait, no, the most terrifying thing someone can say to me is (if that person is an acquaintaince, I mean) "So I read your blog."
Now I know that if said person didn't like my blog, she probably wouldn't say anything, would just keep it to herself as her respect for me slowly wilted and died. Eventually she'd start avoiding eye contact and all our interactions would be awkward--like many of my interactions really, so maybe I wouldn't even notice.
But there's still those few seconds of pure terror and nervous laughter while I wait for that person to pass judgment on my writing and my sense of humor. And even if she says something good, it's still kind of scary.
Because, as Amanda and Tony and the many other creative types out there can tell you, making yourself vulnerable is scary as all get-out. Here's my work, judge me. While I like the idea of a lucrative blogging career, I don't have the energy/balls to pursue it. I already get paid to be a writer, and I agonize over that too.
In the words of Wes, who coincidentally just brought home his mastered CD and is now ripping it apart, "It's really fucking hard, Sweetie Pie." (It sounds amazing, btw, except for this weird thing on every "s" sound on the entire CD.)
That being said, if you do like my blog, you can tell me. I'll get over the embarrassment pretty quick in order to bask in your praise.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Why Bother?
I spent much of the last weekend hanging out with Kate, so she's done all the hard work of blogging my life. She calls me out on a few things here: the fact that I spent my Saturday night at a band competition and that I was in the color guard in high school, a fact I've actively hidden for the past 8 years of my life.
Then, we went to see Conor Oberst at the 9:30 Club. Her review is here, but I would like to add that the guy in front of me was laying toxic farts the entire night, which did mildly dampen my enjoyment of the show. Seriously, it was really bad. I almost had to say something.
Then, we went to see Conor Oberst at the 9:30 Club. Her review is here, but I would like to add that the guy in front of me was laying toxic farts the entire night, which did mildly dampen my enjoyment of the show. Seriously, it was really bad. I almost had to say something.
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