Feral Sunday…

…the newspaper did not land on the front lawn as it normally does every Sunday so I had to go round to the shop to get it. Have you ever noticed the minimal amount of effort people put in to their appearance on a Sunday morning? I was very scruffy in my ten year old Hawaiian print Capri pants, black t-shirt and rats nest hair as I hauled my arse around to get the paper and similarly scruffy people were doing the same. Now, I’m not big on worrying about how someone looks at the best of times but I have to wonder why bare feet and what can only be pyjama bottoms and a singlet are so acceptable to some on a Sunday. Or maybe that’s a Brisbane thing…we’re terribly causal. Is it the same where you live?

Tell me…

….what part of ‘please take a ticket’ is not understandable?
Because I was out and about I decided to go to the deli. When I got there was this woman carrying on like a pork chop (going mad) about having to wait in line. Her basic problem was, amongst many I suspect, was that she had not gotten one of the tickets, like everyone else had, out of the bright red, clearly marked ‘please take a ticket’ dispenser. I think this is a fair system. She was bemoaning the fact that she had not seen this bright red, clearly marked ‘please take a ticket’ dispenser and she felt she should not have to wait. When I rocked up and took a ticket she started to tell me how long she had been waiting. I, not the most patient of people, suggested that to solve what she considered a problem by taking a ticket and stop bitching. Is it just me or does that seem completely logical? Did she take a ticket? Did she get served? Who gives a rat’s arse.

Men are funny…

…I then swung by the flower wholesaler to buy myself some flowers as I deserved them and there was this man with a baby in his arms in the cold room where the flowers are kept. I said hello as I do to complete strangers and he looked at me with gratitude – he then proceeded to tell me, a complete stranger, his problem. It seems the man made a humungous mistake. He invited, in front of his wife, his ex-fiancée out to dinner with them and he wanted to buy flowers to make up for this enormous faux pas (the wife as expected took it badly) and what sort of flowers did I think he should buy? Yes, foolish mortal. As there were no diamond studded flowers there I pointed to this whacking great bunch of blooms and suggested alcohol would also be a very good accompaniment. I also pointed out to him flowers were not going to cut it in the apology stakes. “You reckon?” He responded in all innocence. Poor sod.
Soul mates…

…I got an email from a fellow author. She is writing a book revolving around soul mates and could I read a couple of paragraphs and give my opinion on what she had written so far. Sure. She asked did I think soul mates existed. That’s a tricky question for a romance writer to answer…but no, I don’t believe in the concept of soul mates. I just think some people get on better with other people. How do you explain people that ‘fall in love’ constantly with multiple partners and get married a zillion times with the latest Joe Blow they consider their soul mate? Are they in love with a soul mate or just in love with the concept of being in love? Yes, I think love exists if you want it and need it in your life – but soul mates? I think it’s a term used to sell greeting cards and self help books.

I was interested in…

…the comments on my blog and the private emails I got regarding book reviews. I wasn’t aware how deeply reviews affected people. Is it just the fact that as humans there is a sense of disappointment or failure when you don’t get a high grade? Does it smack at self esteem? Do we equate a high score as success? Can we not just accept things as they are and move on? Don’t get me wrong, I’m not judging anyone but I just wonder why getting a high mark or the lack there of is so important. Yes, sure there is the angle of sales but I have the belief, misguided as it may be, that if someone read your last book and liked it they’re going to take a chance on your next one even if the reviewer said it sucked. People have taken chances on my books even with the less than flattering reviews I have got. I truly believe it all comes down to competition and human feelings of inadequacies when pitted against another in the market place. I’m sure you’ll try to correct me if you think I’m wrong.

Team playing…

…I’m not good at it. Actually I suck at it. I always feel like I have to drag people along. I am very much an alpha person who does not play well with others. I often wonder why this is considered a bad thing. In the workplace there are all sorts of cutesy posters up about teamwork and all for one for stuff but can’t we be individuals any more? Do you feel pressured to be in a team? Is it because you think you can do better alone than with a cast of thousands? Is that arrogance? I suspect it probably is but then do the arrogant truly care? Yes, how deep and meaningful for a Sunday. But I would like to know – are you a team player? Do you pretend to be a team player to fit in? Or do you make a stand and are forever known as a non team player? And if so what penalties do you get because of it?

My…

…haven’t I asked a lot of questions today? Please feel free to comment on anything – anonymously if you like.

Thanks…

….to everyone who sent me the great emails on Marlow’s Curse. I am gobsmacked you read it so quickly and enjoyed it. It is most humbling…thank you…

Anny and Kelly are no doubt doing something terribly existential on their blogs – check ‘em out on www.annycook.blogspot.com and www.kkirch.blogspot.com

www.freewebs.com/amarindajones/
Go ahead: Live with abandon. Be outrageous at any age. What are you saving your best self for?