Hot Damn! What Do You Write When You Don’t Know What To Write…

525259_4873793715651_655653751_nEvery time I sit down to write for my column on elephant, I go through the same thing. I find a title (the easy part), a photo (the fun part) and I let it all spill out. Somehow I manage to make sense of it all, even if it looks like mush.

It’s Friday night, and I got nothin’ but time. Which of course means I’ll be procrastinating and wasting precious moments watching CNN and wondering where the fuck that plane is.

I think it’s time for a little ol’ top 10 list of possibilities, in no particular order. Some are about yoga, some are about love and relationships. One of these would be far more personal and tough to write than the others. One is 1/3 done but doesn’t really have a point. At least half of them will piss people off to no end. Some are just silly fluff. Help me! What do you think?!!

(By the way, I have 176 drafts to work with here.)

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10. “Close Your Eyes. Make A Wish. Count To Three.” Stuff we wish for, and end up realizing we already have. It’s kind of a sticky-sweet Willy Wonka kinda piece with a happy ending.

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9. “On Wearing Makeup To Yoga.” I do it. I’m too old not to. And MAC has so many good colors. But what are we hiding?

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8a. “Living on a Star & Laughing.” How to be happy and free. (Too bad no one ever reads the really happy ones.)

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8b. I could counter it with something completely fucked up. As you can see, I have the photo. But no title.

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7. “(I Think) I’m An Atheist.” This is true. It might be a phase.

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6. “Sex, No Strings Attached.” My husband just got back from Australia. He’s from a part of Sydney where they have more brothels, I believe, than anywhere else in the world. But I need a better, raunchier photo.

5. “Let Me Guess, You’re From New York.” I’ve been meaning to write this for a while now, as an answer to “All The Boys Love L.A. Chicks.” I can’t resist. No photo yet.

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4. “That’s What Happens When You Lose Your Virginity To ‘Purple Rain.’” I may or may not have the guts to write this, about my first love.

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3. “Elizabeth, I Love You. Will You Please Come Back The Time I Count To Fifty?” From one of my favorite 80’s movies, 9 1/2 Weeks. It’s about playing games in relationships.

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2. “A Sinner’s Guide To Yoga.” Last March I posted “What If Bad Girls Taught Yoga?” I could easily run with this.

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1. “On The Outside Looking In.” Story of my life. This one might take a while. And I don’t know about the cat, but it sure does say a lot.

***

I just came across a draft called “Beautiful 2.” I have no idea why I called it that, but here’s what I had so far:

Once there was a barefoot California girl who lived to lie on the beach. If I could, I would tell her this: maybe use some sunscreen. Stop wasting time being so dark. Keep what you write, even though it’s mostly self-indulgent beer-soaked nonsense. Tijuana is a whole different country, don’t break the law again. Write more, let it bleed. Don’t be so afraid.

Beauty is all around.

My husband. I’ve never known anyone like you.

Take my hand, show me what you think is beautiful. You are a Bacchanalian feast for the gods. You are a deep, heavy red wine. You can be foolish, like the kind of man who goes running with the bulls. You are brave, like the person who lets their legs dangle while swimming in shark infested waters. You are as colorful as sugar candy, and mirthful as a maypole dance. You are amazing.

With you, I hear the mandolin. I see cobblestone streets between centuries old villas. I feel content. I need you next to me. I want for nothing. I breathe the sweet scent of passion, and all I want is more.

I’ll walk with you anywhere… Any vestige of fear or insecurity is gone. There’s never shadow.

Our life is beautiful.

Be like rain, and fall without caution. Be open and kind. Be humble, like water in an effort to find it’s own level. Be like liquid light, and saturate each other with trust and honesty.

Let it be a boisterous show of love and devotion. Let the neighbors call the cops. Let the sky fall down.

With every molecule in my earthly body, I love you. Let’s live forever.

***

I feel a loooong night coming on…

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Anne Clendening ♥

Anne Clendening is an L.A. chick, born and raised. She is a writer of creative nonfiction and other sordid tales of life, love and other L.A. adventures.

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