Bleh. I'm beginning to feel ashamed of myself for daring to call myself a writer. I made the mistake of perusing fiction written by some folks for whom English is not their first language, and yet they write in English anyway, and they're better than I am to boot. It is not helping my deflated ego. Hm.
So then my brain starts wanting to write poetry in Spanish. Stupid brain, I barely remember my Spanish! Hola. Buenas noches. El gato está en el -- el -- Crap. I've gone and forgot the word for "chair" now. So basic, and so lost from my memory.
Feh. Peanut's been working with me to get to how I really feel about my daddy. It's, um, not going well. She says I keep avoiding the questions. Apparently I'm good at that, though I rarely notice myself dodging.
(hours pass with the barely-begun entry unheeded)
Random: You know what's really fun? Interrupting cousins at an extended family get-together when they jabber about "Will & Grace" with a pretended self-righteous, "You watch that stuff?!" Observe them backpedal and keep the giggles inside until after the meal is over. Hee. I'm so mean.
(more time flies by)
I can't concentrate on this. Bah.