My Personal Archaeological Find

I tend to jot down story ideas or bizarre dialogue or strangers’ quirks on any writable surface that is readily available.  If I had a fancy schmancy phone, I’d use an app, but since my cell is not a smart phone, or even a semi-intelligent phone for that matter, I use paper.  Junk mail envelopes.  Receipts.  Crayons and coloring placements at Denny’s.  Nude lip liner on bar napkins (which amused a charming, dark-haired man who then coaxed a pen from a friend and bought me a drink).

At any rate, I’ve been organizing/paring down my possessions and I found a huge stack of loose papers and torn bits of writing hiding within a manila envelope.  It’s a personal archaeological find.  I’m trying to sort through the mess and add the debris into my “random bits” folder on my laptop.  Thus far, I’ve uncovered forgotten scenes that will add some punch to my screenplay, a missing chapter from a forgotten story, random bits of everything, and the following poem/lyrics, which (in my head) sound like spoken word in a song:

You threw me off my delicate balance
And I said yes when I should have said no
Then you tossed me aside, said you wanted to leave
I got my ego in check so I said “Well go”
All the mixed signals dropped down to my feet
Scorched to their core, they melt into the snow
You always said you needed the stars to breathe
Well I should have known better, yes that I know

I also found material from my old, long-ago obliterated, blog.  I vaguely recall printing it off because I knew that at some point my future self would read it and shake her head at the pathetic, heartbroken creature I once was.  And may I just say, OH MY HELL.  If I had only know the whole truth, or even a sliver of the truth, about that man, well, I wouldn’t have a little girl singing and spinning in circles in my living room at this moment.  However, the experience gave me insight as to how charming, yet mendacious, a person can be, and we all know what writers do with such precious material.

In other news, my son left for Spain last week and will be gone until the end of November (or longer if his paperwork is blessed with a quick trip through the red tape).  I had a small party for him and we attempted to get a family photo, but this was the best we could do due to an uncooperative toddler:

The past few weeks have been a whirlwind of car repairs, depletion of my savings due to car repairs and one promised round-trip ticket to Spain, continued revision of my screenplay, increased work load, illness, and a general increase in stress due to the aforementioned factors.

Today, I feel a bit lighter and my thoughts are clear.  When I cough, I no longer sound like a barking seal and when I speak, I no longer sound like Juno in Beetlejuice.  Much to my delight, Maya is no longer pretending to hug me while secretly wiping her snotty nose on my shirt.  My glitch was thankfully short-lived.  I updated my goals, adjusted my trajectory, and now there is a light at the end of the tunnel and it doesn’t appear to be a train.

Ah… the return to a semi-normal life.

10 thoughts on “My Personal Archaeological Find

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  1. What a great find! I don’t have a smart phone either, and I don’t write things down. I always think “i should write that down before I forget” and then forget what it was while searching for something to write with.

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    1. That happens frequently when I’m driving. By the time I arrive at my destination, all I can focus on is getting my toddler to zip it. Maybe I need a tape recorder.

      Wait… do they even make tape recorders now?

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  2. Am I dreaming, or did you just reference Beetlejuice? I think I’ve seen that movie at least 50 times. I love the part where Juno starts smoking and it’s coming out her neck. Ah, memories.

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      1. I also wrote really dark books as an 8-year-old! Lots of books about animals dying and friends getting lost in the street. My mom used to make my sister and me write books whenever something was bothering us. My favorite is one my sister had to write after her balloon popped called “Balloons cause problems.” Each new page was a new problem that could be caused by ballooons- from not wanting the color you want to babies choking on the pieces and dying.

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      2. I wonder if around age 8 is when we figure out that life isn’t all rainbows and unicorns. Then again, I remember watching old Vincent Price movies late at night with my mom & dad. My favorite was the Pit and the Pendulum. It was either creepy movies or Monty Python. Perhaps that has something to do with it.

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  3. That used to be me… drowning in scraps of thought. Most of which seemed bright and witty at the time, but then later revealed themselves to be fit for recycling.

    Siri changed my life… The voice-recognition software on the iphone? Is possibly the greatest invention in the last century. You can speak your note into the phone. And it magically turns it into text and saves it for you.

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    1. Scraps of thought. Well-stated.

      Someday, when I venture into this century and fit myself with a smartphone (when I can afford the services, that is), I have a feeling I’ll use the voice-recognition software often. And then I can have scraps of thought taking up space on a SIM card. 🙂

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