HOW I LEARNED TO STOP WORRYING AND LOVE THE FACEBOOK

In addition to the invaluable public service I provide my readers with through my harping rants, I’m thinking I can add even more helpful content. Since many of the half-dozen of you reading this (Boy, I’ve got a following now! Look out world.) are writers, I’m thinking of also using the blog as a forum to discuss my and other’s experiences with different writing markets, interesting contests, anthologies, and other calls for manuscripts, links to useful websites like Duotrope's (if you don’t know this one, you’re living in the dark ages), etc. Writerly stuff. Maybe one of these days I’ll even get a links list together, but let’s not get too ambitious just yet. And of course you won’t want to miss any of this, so don’t forget to subscribe to Shouts From the Madhouse. You wouldn’t want to miss one scintillating day in the life of me, would you? I thought not.

I’ve figured out how to send this feed to my Facebook (yeah, yeah) page. I’m like a bride in an arranged marriage with this Facebook thing. I was forced into it, there’s no getting out now, so I just have to learn to love it and hope it doesn’t slap me around too much.

And now your long awaited and much beloved Irish curse of the day:

MAY YOUR DREAMS AND REFLECTIONS BE VILE AND BAD

Wait a minute, I think my enemies have been reading my book!

ABOUT FACE(BOOK)

Hey there friends and frienemies alike. Today’s FTS award goes to Facebook. That’s right, I said it. And if you’ve seen my Facebook page, you already know my feelings. Hey, what’s the beef with FB, Jess? you ask. Well, I’ll tell you. For one, I don’t like that you can’t personalize your page. It’s boring. And now that I’ve taken the time to personalize my MySpace page, everyone is migrating to FB. Now I have to deal with keeping up two pages. I am only one woman! (Though my psychiatrist might say different.) And I was never any good at maintaining the one page. Is that all? you query. No. I also hate that it broadcasts my every move to all two (ok, I have a few more than that) of my friends. Jessica Hoard just added a picture. Jessica Hoard just wrote on so-and-so’s wall. Jessica Hoard just scratched her butt. It’s creepy, it’s invasive, it’s a bit like being stalked. But now that I’m being forced to spend some time getting to know FB, at least I’ve discovered how to limit that somewhat. And another thing, instead of using normal language like “send a message” or “post a comment” they have to be all cutesy with stuff like writing on super walls and poking, and people are always wanting you to take personality tests and crap. It’s just all very junior high. Of course, the whole idea of social networking is junior high, what with all the friend counting and belonging to groups and networks and whatnot. Considering that Facebook has now eclipsed MySpace, I can’t really say “FTS” to FB, though it’s still not my BFF. Because everyone is now at FB, I have to suck it up and go too. I’m trying not to show my advancing age with my crabby, stubborn, change-hating, Luddite ways and utter uncoolness. So I guess I’m making an about face about Facebook.

Today’s un-FTS, or non-FTS, or whatever, goes to the guy at the car inspection place who passed me yesterday even though my right blinker wasn’t working. Thanks, dude! You rock! Actually, I don’t know if that’s really a fail-worthy violation.

And today’s Irish curse:

MAY WARTS AND CHAPPED HANDS ALWAYS BE WITH YOU

See you on Facebook.

FTS

I got an email from my friend Chris today who has a deep appreciation for what he calls my “Fuck that shit” attitude, encouraging me to keep writing despite sometime overwhelming feelings of “what’s the point of it all anymore?” I had talked to him before about trying to figure out what this blog is or should be “about”. I’m still figuring it out, but I think it works best as a mish mash. I told him I ought to write a blog called “Fuck That Shit” in which I bitch (my expertise) about, well, whatever annoys or pisses me off. It could become my catch phrase, my “Are you having a laugh?” It would sweep the nation. It would be on t-shirts and bumper stickers and they could make a doll of me that, when you squeeze it, says “Fuck that shit.” Well, I don’t know about all that, but I do think that I will be incorporating FTS as a regular feature of the blog. I had thought I would try to keep the blog somewhat respectable so that it might be useful in the search for freelance work, but you know what I have to say to that? That’s right, fuck that shit. (Don’t worry you’ll catch on.) So Ducky, this FTS is for you. Thanks.

WHEN A DOOR CLOSES...

A window opens, or something corny like that. You may notice that my recent post about the drabble (story of exactly 100 words for those of you not in the know) I wrote which was rejected for publication is no longer here. Well I just received an email about a different piece I submitted to a different journal. No, it wasn't accepted either. It was rejected. But they did read my blog, and they did happen to like the drabble (I'm not explaining it to you again), and they would like to publish it in their premiere issue due out in January. So keep your eyes peeled for Pear Noir! And for those of you who write, submissions are open until Oct. 31. Let's make it a family affair. Or a friend affair. You know what I mean.

And the Irish curse for today is:

MAY YOU SUFFER AN UNQUENCHABLE THIRST

Don't give up the good fight!

AND ANOTHER THING...

I was so distraught over my missed opportunities that I forgot the most important thing of all. That's right, the Irish curse of the day! (yea)

MAY YOUR MISFORTUNES BE FOOD FOR GOSSIP AT THE FORGE

And now that I've crossed Sarah!, I'm sure to have many misfortunes.

OPEN LETTER TO PROF. WHO SENT ME THIS EMAIL IN RESPONSE TO MY CANCELLING OUR MEETING ABOUT TAKING A CLASS I'VE ALREADY TAKEN

YOU:

(Subject) You made a wrong choice...

Jessica,YOu [sic] made a mistake by not keeping our appointment today. You really don't know what would have come of it. When I hear anyone say they WANT more than anything to be an actor I take that very seriously and you have no idea what kind of help I could have been to you. I have numerous connections in New York and I've gotten several actors in this department signed with the local TV and FILM agent -- and they've been working! I went to Yale School of Drama and received my MFA there in Acting -- I am friends with the Artistic Director of the Yale Rep Theatre and others in the business - I am plugged into numerous opportunities and programs that I've helped actors get into. I know the ropes and I could have been of enormous help to you if you were truly serious and believed you have talent - which I could have familiarized myself with. You should have kept your appointment with me. In this business it's all about networking and relationships and I was already thinking of ways I could help you with your audition package and support you in that -- even if it meant auditing the class (for a nominal fee) and helping you on a couple of pieces outside of class. You still would have learned an ENORMOUS amount by auditing!!! You should have come in and brainstormed this with me. And you shouldn't have canceled so closely to the time -- there would have been no harm in meeting me -- I planned on coming in FOR YOU! Jessica! Be well, Sarah

ME:

Well, Sarah!, congrats on the whole Yale thing and all your numerous connections and whatnot. I guess that's why you've got such a prestigious career teaching at the University of Memphis. Was that your first choice? I always know when someone is really important when they feel they have to list their credentials to prove something to me, a mere nobody as we've already established. Nothing like insulting someone who you were apparently so keen to make your protege by implying they have no talent. Oh, but not keen enough to let me in the class I actually wanted to take. You were going to do all of these favors for me and give me all of this personal time and attention outside of class, but you wouldn't give me a simple permit to take your class. But I would have learned such an ENORMOUS amount by taking, yet again, a beginner's acting class. Thanks, but no thanks. I promise you, I am a great deal more serious about and skilled in acting than the twenty year-olds in that class, or in your other class, which is supposedly too advanced for me, for that matter . I'm sure you think that you possess a wealth of knowledge, which I would be so lucky to take advantage of, but really, I'm a bit beyond that. I know you were shocked to hear that I had already studied in London and in New York, and that I give much of my time to Theatre Memphis, because, how could anyone as lowly as me accomplish anything without your guidance. But I'm sure I will soon regret possibly the worst "wrong choice" of my life. And to think, I could have signed with a local (Memphis?!) talent agent. Fame and fortune could have been mine for the taking. I was so close.

P.S. My mother wanted me to let you know how much she enjoyed the conversation she had with you after you procured my home phone number without my knowledge and interrogated her as to my whereabouts and activities, even though she didn't know who the hell you were and vice verse.

P.P.S. I do regret cancelling at the last minute, and I apologize. That was rude. I only hope you don't stalk me and kill me in my sleep by bludgeoning me with a copy of the complete works of William Shakespeare, unabridged.

A TREE FALLS

If a hermit blogs on the internet and there’s no one there to read it, does it make a sound? That has been the great existential question I’ve been grappling with instead of actually blogging. But of course the answer is yes, the tree hears it. What I mean is that whether or not people are reading my blog entries, I’m writing them. And that is still time well enough spent. And that is my nugget of wisdom for today. Of course, if I’m the only one reading this, I’m the only one benefiting. Your loss.

Your Irish curse of the day:

MAY YOUR WIFE BE A WITCH

Til next time