Writing, Blog and Ball So Hard, That Fish Crey.

(The good part starts at... "Now, onto something" if you wish to fast forward.)

I don't write much for the world to see anymore.  I surely used to.  Much of it was here and has been torn down and archived.  Why I haven't been posting stuff here is simply because of reasons.

That's right.

Because of reasons.

I could make up some really good ones, but the real ones have to do with apathy, confusion and laziness.  I haven't been reading as much and that, more than anything, will stall a writing engine.

This blog is something I love, but it's just not right anymore.  All the things I gutted myself over here are still and will always be relevant to my life and story.  I will always have related things to say that fit here and make sense, but a good portion of the things I sniff and knead that make the creative part of my brain fire nowadays don't always have much to do with my alcoholism, personal growth or anguish.  So, I'll get to writing and then just have nowhere to share it that makes any damned sense.  So I read it aloud to my dogs and cats... mixed reviews.  I'm trying to figure out how to create a space that makes sense for some of this, but the content is so broad, ranging and often senseless that it seems an impossible task.

One of the things so stifling for me as a hobbyist writer is that once I exposed this one part of my life (a theme) that people really attached to I found myself sitting at my desk shooting at a target.  That's no way to write, at least not for me.  I've been unfollowed on twitter by more people that currently follow me now.  Most of that is because I'm not giving them what they signed up for originally.  I get it.  I'm not always Zen, fight the bad guys, positive outlook guy with inspirational tales about overcoming adversity and preaching about personal accountability.  That doesn't mean I don't believe those things... but sometimes I have to say, "fuck," sometimes I have to be dark and cynical, sometimes I'm a full blown nihilist.  Sometimes I want to talk about chili and chicken thighs and pork chops.

There's just no reason why any of us should expect anyone else to wear one hat... no matter how good it looks.

A few weeks ago at work I told a coworker that I was an alcoholic and a little bit about my experiences in counseling, both as a counselor and as a client, my time in jails and mental hospitals... regular hospitals, withdrawal, suicidal ideation, just the general horror.  She said, "Wow, I just thought you were an arrogant, over educated, spoiled kid from a rich family who thought he knew everything."  Before I allowed myself to fire back... "I just thought you had some kind of traumatic brain injury or developmental delay." I thought, "this scatterbrained buffoon just illustrated an important thing."  So, she was partially on target with her label but had only a very limited amount of information about me to work with...  Whatever guys, this is a long story just to paint a picture about how writing for a reader (in addition to just writing for myself) is a pain in the ass.  How is a person, any and all of us, supposed to write freely when there are so many unrelated things happening in our lives and minds that we want to write about?  That's not a rhetorical question... I'm actually asking.  How do you fuckers do it?

I just know that I want to write, I want it to be beneficial for me, I want it to be read and I want it to be entertaining or compelling or both.  So, if anyone out there or anyone you know had any suggestions I command you to share them with me.

Now, onto something...

A friend of mine shared this on the f-books.  It's a study by a PhD student about language and how it differs regionally... but don't worry, there are colors and pictures.  There are a few things I'd like to draw your attention to.  (I'm just going to link it instead of posting imgs or screencaps just so I can avoid having to post img credits... told you I was lazy.)

http://www.businessinsider.com/22-maps-that-show-the-deepest-linguistic-conflicts-in-america-2013-6

First.  Locate the map that says, "What do you call it when it rains while the sun is shining?"

The options are
1. I have no word or expression for this.
2. Sunshower
3. The devil is beating his wife.
4. Other.

Yeah, I thought about this one for a minute and decided that I didn.... Wait a fucking second... "The devil is beating his wife?!"  Consider the implications of that for a moment.  I don't mean to offend or demean anyone's religious views, but, I'm about to.  To say #3 aloud, in any context, is insane.  The obvious and primary first issue I have with it is that it presupposes that the devil is a man, primary-sub-one the devil exists, sub-two he controls weather.  Secondarily... would the devil marry?  If so would he just marry one demon wife?  How could he find the time to go to craft shows or Bed, Bath and Beyond on the weekends with all that pitch-forking he has to do?  Finally, what about a rain and sun mix makes you think about the devil?  How often do you think about the devil?  How (I mean aside from just crazy magic) would beating a demon wife, in any way, be suggestive of a sunshower... or vice versa?  p.s. I guess I like sunshower.

Second.  Locate the map that says, "What is your generic term for a sweetened carbonated beverage?"

The options are
1. Soda
2. Pop
3. Coke
4. Soft Drink

The raw data is not included, but I would love to see the numbers on people who say, "Soft Drink," and then I would like to meet them just to hear what other remarkable things they say during the course of unremarkable conversation.  I knew a guy from Texas who said, "Coke," in this way... I'm not going to spend any time tearing this down because it is fraught with so many logistical problems.  Seriously getting a pop for his guy was like an unfunny Abbot and Costello routine.

This is a hotly contested and somewhat contentious issue.  It's important to know that I lived in Iowa City for 29  years and I say "pop."  I moved in 2009 to a town outside the Milwaukee area and now I live just north of Madison.  Just look at how shockingly red that area is for soda... I mean southeastern Wisconsin is just throbbing, hot-red for soda.  It's so pronounced that when I say, "pop," I'm judged and sometimes ridiculed.

BONUS: Here's an expert tip from an adept, in-person, troll.  If you're ever in Wisconsin and you really want to upset people just start talking about the merits of California cheese.  Also, this year the cream in the cream puffs at the Wisconsin State Fair will be made in Illinois... so, get a dairy grip, Wisconsin.  Calm down.

Third.  Locate the map that says, "What do you call a miniature lobster that one finds in lakes and streams."

The options are
1. Crawfish
2. Creyfish
3. Crawdad
4. I have no word for this critter.

I'm going to spend the rest of my life trying to start discussions about these critters just so I can work in the sentence, "Ball so hard, That fish Crey."

Enjoy the rest of the maps, they're interesting and will give you all plenty opportunities to start light hearted arguments.

Arguments are the best.

ty