MUSE

So, I watched Shakespeare in Love last night for the first time. It was good! A little bit scandalous, but don't worry—I closed my eyes when necessary. And, amazingly, I got darn close to tears at the end. Anyways, part of Shakespeare's problem throughout the beginning of the movie is that he can't find his muse, he doesn't have anything to help his words flow with the genius they usually do.

Man, do I feel his pain.

I have everything I need to write a couple of killer, fast, good pieces. But can I even get them started right now? Nope. Nothing is coming. I seriously start to type and have NO IDEA what I should write next, how any of it will flow, where to even start. Nothing is coming. Gah. Stupid.

So, I am writing here. Because it's much easier to put down a lot of the jumbled stuff in my head, then to write an article on the effects media has on tween girls ages 8-12 (why do 8-year-olds even have access to Facebook and their own iPhones anyway? That is the real issue).

So what I'm gonna do is listen to some Flogging Molly [they totally understand me. And have great accents], send an email I will pretend is very important, and then text Lauren something super hilarious, just so I can be reminded that I'm not a total loser.

Mmm. I wish I could just find a beautiful person like Shakespeare to come along and be my muse.