I will never claim to understand the size of women’s clothes, but I know they are wildly inconsistent from brand to brand and that there has been the opposite of size inflation over the years. Bigger clothes now carry small sizes. I do understand the psychology of making women feel better about themselves with a smaller size. That encourages them to buy the item.
But in a crazy “shrinking the sizes” exercise, a sales clerk at one retailer explained their sizes as follows: Size O is small and is sizes 4-6. Size 1 is medium and those are sizes 8-10. Size 2 is large and that’s sizes 12-14. So at this particular retailer a woman who wears a size 12 wears a size 2. She’s going to buy that size all day long.
The facts: Someone bought a grande coffee shortly after 9am on September 10th. They handed their Mastercard to V. Browning-Smith to pay the $2.42 charge. Anything beyond that—including the disposition of the grande coffee—is pure speculation.
I saw a still from a new movie that is set in 1950s New York and I wondered if that was the chosen time period so the men could wear hats.
I was listening to a fiction podcast as I went to sleep. I dozed off and woke up to the sound a phone makes when it’s left off the hook. Even though I can’t even remember the last time I heard that sound in real life, I instinctively reached for my mobile phone to hang it up.
Was my Daddy curious when he was a scientist? Did he want to know how lightning worked?
Blade Runner, one of the ultimate dystopian movies of the future, opens with a title card that reads, Los Angeles, November 2019.
Writing is so much more than just stringing words together. It is a way to decide what has already happened and what will happen. When you let got and just let the words flow, fewer words become a choice. They naturally build on each other, allowing you to make natural decisions.
Today is the first day of National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). People all over the world spend the next 30 days trying to write a novel. Or maybe the first draft of a novel. The goal is to write 50,000 words.
I’ve never written a novel, but I’m going to try it. I’m less concerned about the word count goal and more interested in writing every day during the month to set a habit.
I hear music echoing in my head. It’s not like an ear worm—a song play over and over that your brain can’t shake—but it’s more like there’s music playing in another room. I can’t quite make out the lyrics or even recognize the song.
Last night I dreamed of a six-foot snake in my backyard and this morning I saw a six-inch snake along the road. This post is not to scale.