I think my fearless writing challenge will be great for my poem a day challenge, for the simple fact that when I sit down to write prose, the poem will be one more way for me to procrastinate.
I feel like I am on the edge of a really great orgasm, but just. can’t. get. there.
Yes, it is that frustrating. #creativeblueballs
I’ve been thinking all day about what to write about on day one. Here are a few options:
- How I am horrible at math and when I said yesterday I have 150 days of this challenge I was mistaken. Yesterday was day 218 of the year, so in fact, that leaves me with 147 days of fearlessness. The good news is that is fewer days I need to be a fearless writer. The bad news is I really am horrible at math. #sad
- The first dirty joke I ever heard. Told by my mother. When I was maybe eight, possibly younger.
- How I lived next to a notorious murderer. #truestory
- How all the ideas I listed now seem stupid and not at all interesting.
Welcome to the mind of a writer. #getoutwhileyoucan
This is what stops me. This is the psychological quicksand I get stuck in. Either I have so many ideas I don’t know which one to choose or none of the ideas seem any good and I talk myself out of writing anything at all.
And now I am ashamed to be sharing this gummy mental oatmeal with you. #blech
But, I am not going to erase it all and not write anything. I am sharing the good, the bad, and the ugly with you on this one. Sorry. Looks like we will have to get through a bit of bad and ugly before we get to the possible good.
So, here’s the first dirty joke I ever heard. Told to me by my mom, when I was very young. (circa 1975)
Did you hear the one about the pediatrician who was going on a trip and as he got into the taxi cab the cab driver said, “Oh, I like your briefcase. The leather is so smooth!”
The doctor replied, “Thank you, I’m a pediatrician and when I rub it, it turns into a suitcase.”
Yeah, I didn’t get it either. At age SEVEN.
I’m sure I looked at my mom with a completely blank look. And then she had to explain to me, age SEVEN, three things:
- what a circumcision was
- what foreskin is
- that a penis gets bigger when you rub it.
Believe it or not, my mom was a good mom. I don’t think I was traumatized by the joke. Too much. Though there isn’t much I remember with as much clarity from that time as my mom telling me the joke. I think I may have had a friend there, too. Can you imagine?
In her defense, my mom was young. She had me when she was 18. Yeah, she was a little irreverent. Slightly inappropriate from time to time. Pretty open about a lot of things. She grew up in the age of hippies and free love and Ms. magazine and I even remember going to some movie with my parents about the birds and the bees (like, literally, I think it was called that) – a documentary about animals mating.
Maybe they thought I would sleep through it? #whoknows #strangetimes
I’ve thought about writing a book called Sex: A Memoir as a cautionary tale.
Maybe Strange Times is a better title.
On that note…day one is in the can! #1down146togo