Wednesday, April 18, 2018

I do confess

I was going to title this post "Laughing matter" but since I search my past posts these days to prevent too much repetition I discovered that I've written a few too many posts with similar titles and tone (I do confess 1,223 posts to be exact). So I chose "I do confess" instead. I googled "I do confess" and discovered that Shakespeare used that line often in his plays. So I feel I am in rare company using the line.

"I do confess" may be my new "but I digress."  But I do confess I think I replaced "but I digress" with "Pause for a lugubrious howl"some time back. I also confess that I don't really remember half the time.

More often than not, when I am trying to think of something to write about, I reread some past posts. Sometimes I'm surprised, sometimes I'm amused and some times I'm embarrassed. A person's writing style is a bit like their fingerprint. They are all unique and if you read some one's stuff enough, you could pick their writing out of a writing line up (that's the one, right there, I'd recognize that dangling participle anywhere).

What's embarrassing to me is how many repetitive quirks there are in my writing. They are like those annoying mannerisms you notice about people in day to day life, like replying, "Yeah, yeah, yeah" to every statement when a simple yes would suffice. I for example, have this nasty habit of running my hands through my hair over and over when I'm talking. Inevitably, at the end of a conversation my hair looks like Mark Twain or Albert Einstein's.

I do confess that my writing is chock full of annoying mannerisms. I use parenthetical statements ad nauseam (like "but I digress)." Or I make a statement and then qualify it in the parenthetical statement (which I know is a somewhat redundant thing to say).

And we all know I repeat myself over and over (I can't tell you how many times I've remarked about sitting naked on the roof with a dead chicken...not that I've ever really done that, though if you are invisible like I am at this age, what would it matter).

I do confess that it's all part of trying to hard to be clever...or trying to make people think I'm clever. Equally annoying is my habit of apologizing for trying to be funny or thinking I'm funny (or being afraid of thinking I'm funny when I'm not).

Let's face it. My blog is one big confessional and I'm not even Catholic. Even if I was Catholic, I couldn't imagine going to confession and saying, "Bless me Father for I have sinned, I have tried to be funny. And Father, forgive me for the Whoopee Cushion. It seemed like a good idea at the time.

I do confess that I am glad I got that off my chest.


Helen Baggott said...

I do confess that I'd not noticed your lack of digression.

Time said...

It was likely because of the long pause for a lugubrious howl.