Thursday, August 18, 2011

Are you there, blog? It's me. Amanda.

Hi, everybody! Dijah miss me?

I have been remiss in our correspondence lately, and for that I apologize. You see, my life has taken this turn where I am writing constantly out of necessity and the few brain cells left after seven straight days of mental gymnastics can sympathize with Nadia Comaneci's hamstrings. I've had nothing left in the tank for "outside" writing.

I keep telling myself this is all for the greater good. Going back to school, at my age, ahem, to study marketing. Which is like 5th in line to things I'd actually enjoy studying like Library Science and rye distillation. But here I am. At an online university. Yup. The bad credit loans that got the economy, and me with it, into this mess, are the student loans I'm using in hopes to get out of it.

Now my weekends, once the ultimate triumph of excess and leisure, are spent writing marketing papers. In proper APA format. Instead of drinking margaritas I'm analyzing existing brands and coming up with my own based on them. Now instead of watching movies I am formulating integrated marketing media plans.

Some of these weekly papers are team efforts, which has a high PIA (pain in ass) factor when no one on the team lives in the same time zone and only communicates, often with limited grammar skills, by sporadic email. We've never met, but our academic careers depend on each other. AWKWARD. One of these was a project hypothesizing what it would take to market a Hollywood film to Nigeria. Here is what I wanted to write:

"Dear film distributor: Good day, sir. This letter may come as a huge surprise since we don't know each other, but I need your help. I have completed a wonderful, happy film that makes everyone who sees it feel as though the heavens are shining light on their backs. But my reels have been held captive in a warehouse in Culver City. To make matters worse, Jodi Foster is holding Mel Gibson captive in the same warehouse as punishment for the bad publicity that ruined profits for The Beaver. His fumes of bigotry and hatred are eating away at my film reels! I need your help.... By opening this bank account with a $5000 deposit the monies in the security vault can be transferred safely. I implore you to please give consideration to my predicament. And may Allah show mercy as you do!..."

But no. We went legit. Anyway, it's been a slog, let me tell you.

But since I enjoy writing, especially about booze, and I need any income I can get, I also took a part time gig writing a wine grape and region index for Snooth. It sounds like a lot, and it is, but it's a worthwhile experience. I'm finding that, not unlike lizard tails, brain cells can apparently regenerate. I just have to awaken the "files" in them again. It's been great re-visiting old friends. In some cases, old friends who've been hiding some fun secrets they didn't teach us in wine school.

So between these two things, I've been too spent to share my other thoughts with all of you. Not getting much time off and when I do, I just need some cinematic mental floss. But keep checking back. Perhaps some inspiration will hit me and I can ride some of the remaining fumes into the blogosphere. Until then, kids, be well. Enjoy a margarita on a weekend, or two, or three, for me.

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