For The Love of Scrabble

I am a horrible speller. Back in the day of weekly spelling tests and book reports, mine looked like a battlefield. Phonetics never ring true with me and my aptitude for memorization is lousy. Like many things, spelling is a knack. Someone who is a natural can spell words they have never seen before. I struggle with everyday words like restaurant and embarrass.

It would seem ironic that I enjoy writing (and got a degree that focused on it). I am also addicted to Scrabble. I could play it for hours and if I don’t play it in a few days I miss it. I have started playing it over breakfast in diners. Sometimes it's a travel version; yesterday it was the full version at McDonald’s. I have played it so much in the last 6 months; I might even credit it to helping my English vocabulary. (When you are desperately trying to get rid of a J, Q, or Z you tend to learn new words.) Luckily my mom and I play a friendly game otherwise I might have started drinking something stronger than tea to play.

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I Hate You Too, Adverbs

Homework is a lot of work! A coworker’s grandchildren came in today and we tried to help them do their homework. I helped the older one with a poem, while he helped the younger one with her math. Then she needed help with her English. We both speak it, I like to proofread, no problem! The question that stumped both of us: What’s an adverb? He sent her to ask me, so I looked it up. I told her it modifies a verb. Her response: What’s modifies? It took 3 employees to help a 9-year old do her homework. Why do you need to know the parts of a sentence? This is why I’ll never be a good writer. I only care if the sentence is complete, not how.

School was a struggle for me. If I worked hard, I would do relativity well. Courses that bored me and confused me had no hope. Like social studies, I hated that class more than anything. It was full of boring facts and people I couldn’t remember.

Homework is what you put into it. I realise that now. I also realise I’m not smarter than a 5th grader.

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The Period Has It

I think I’ve found a new way for my mild Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD) to shine through. The idea of this blog was to keep the update short and easy to read. I randomly decided at 1,000 characters. I considered doing 1,400 (10 X the amount of twitter), but felt that wasn’t necessary. Besides, 1,000 is a nice, even number. Monk would approve.

As I write and edit to fit my updates to my self-imposed restrictions, I find myself pushing for exactly 1,000. It annoys me. It pleases me. Beyond my own personal preferences, I don’t know if it matters.

Unlike Monk, I’m not plagued by OCD, although it’s appeal is strong. I like things even, straight, or matching. Perfection is appealing, but the work to achieve it is not. Luckily, I’m not plagued with the anxiety of someone who truly suffers. OCD has strangely become part of everyday language. Maybe it’s because we’re sensitive to reoccurring patterns?

Whatever the case, I’m going prove I’m not a slave to it. This update? Won’t be 1,000

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Short, Fresh, & Sometimes Meaty

Colour me inspired. For a while I’ve been interested in starting a blog. Problem: Most of what I say isn’t interesting. I also tend to be long-winded (I get excited!). Ironically I graduated in Technical Communications. Our motto: Write only what’s important and in as few words as possible. I did well in the program, but outside of its confines, old habits emerged. Enter twitter, 140 characters or less. I was challenged. I was hooked. Alas a blog twitter does not make. Unless...I modified it.

Solution: All the cool kids seem to use twitter as an extension of their blog. I want to use it as twitter enhanced. Keep it random, familiar, and brief. I think I'll aim for 1,000 characters or LESS. Unlike in school, where you had a minimum to write, I'm bringing back my program's rule of a maximum. If I need more than 1,000 characters, it's just proof I need to be more concise. Topics are the same as my twitter: Anything related to my immigration, work as a receptionist, or sleeping desires.

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