graceland's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Method Writing So my foray back into the drug free world hit a snafu on Saturday night. That was unfortunate, however, in light of it being my best friend's birthday celebration and her request, I'm not going to dwell on this setback. Let's just move forward. I'm thinking that it would be best for me to stay in for a week and a half, entering what I like to call, lockdown. Lockdown is an excellent practice for me, because as a former partygirl, I simply cannot be out and about without getting myself into some kind of trouble. Particularly now that New York City seems to be re-enacting filthy scenes from a Brett Easton Ellis 80's novel. I am telling you, I could find trouble alone in a cardboard box. And that is why, I have no option but to remove myself from circulation until I can level off and exercise some modicum of self-control. In hindsight, the nuns in grade school called this outcome years ago. I was an A and B student all my life with the exception of that gd discipline column of my report card. There was always a big U next to self control: Unsatisfactory. I've never had self control. I also have no impulse control. My saving grace is my iron will and determination; once I set my mind to do something, there's no changing it. So all I need to do here, is become determined to curb my bad behavior. The Monster does not like my bad behavior and that's a driver toward change. Unfortunately, the Monster also does not like me right now. He's mad at me, or at least he was mad at me and I had no idea. I'm giving the Monster some space right now. He's about at the end of his rope with me and frankly, I wouldn't be surprised if he tried to hang me with that rope at some time. I have broken that man down. It's amazing how I do that without even trying. So it's time to give myself a time out, go into lockdown, clean up and start behaving like an adult. This is an excellent opportunity to spend time shaping my book. And that is just what I shall do. Until St. Patrick's Day when I throw all of this out the door and run up and down the streets of Manhattan wearing a "Kiss Me I'm Irish" pin, kneel at the feet of dwarves dressed as leprechauns to be administered watered down shots, do Irish jigs with bagpipers and otherwise act like a self-effacing drunken (but not drugged!) buffoon. And then after that I go back into lockdown. It's just for the material, people, and I can't be accused of not being prolific. I'm a method writer. 8:15 p.m. - 2005-03-07 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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