It's called 'Poem Perfectionism'--and I know how to cure it in 12 easy steps.
1. Get copy of original poem.
2. Get pen.
3. Get piece of paper.
4. Sit down at table or writing desk.
5. Hold pen in hand.
6. Place correct tip of pen on piece of paper.
7. Apply pressure.
8. Make letters by connecting lines at correct points.
9. Make words from said letters.
10. Copy entire poem in this fashion.
11. Sign name at bottom of page.
12. And now make a special effort to give the poem to the very patient person who has been asking for it for the past 6 weeks.
It's my thought-up-on-my-very-own 12 step program! ...I'm not sure of how effective it is, however...so I'll have to get back to y'all on it....
23 comments:
Oh my, Tracy. You are quite silly. ;-)
You make it sound so easy.
Perhaps it’s in the deciphering by the “very patient person who has been asking for it for the past 6 weeks” that the difficulty arises!
Do I still owe you that “nice poem” or did that doggy photo suffice some weeks ago.
It would be a very feminine thing to do, to just drop such a bombshell on me like that.
Your entry wasn’t meant as a hint for me was it?
Good grief- a rare surge of guilt is swelling up…
It can't be 6 weeks. Can it?
Oh my goodness, Mr. Briody. You crack me up.
That was very...... spontaneous Tracy. I'm.... sure that I will use that method if I ever have the desire to cure myself of 'poem perfectionism'. Oh, and Mr. Briody, don't fool yourself. You must know by now that Tracy is going to be a nun. So WHY would she be asking you to send her a poem?
Who exactly isn’t thinking of joining a convent?
(Priestlings need not apply)
I'm not, I'm not!!! ;0)
Excellent, my dear.
And thanks for the wink.
;) ;) ;) ;)
Wait a minute.
I've just checked your profile.
You're 16 years old
:0 :0 :0 :0
Let's put it this way Lizzy:
There's like 11 years between us and I'm not 5.
You are sooooo scandalous!
::laughs:: So sorry.
That's nice, Irish P!
I look just like Tracy, does that count for anything?
John, what are you going to make for my lunch?
Apple sandwiches with mustard.
And afterwards, ice cream with M&Ms- but minus the red ones lest you become broody.
Yes, Big Beth.
It means you can have some sandwiches too. And the red M&Ms.
Ginny.... Irish P. Irish Princess. TRY to keep up will you?
Irish P.:
You can eat the M&Ms that Beth leaves behind or spits out.
Imnrtist:
I guess you have the brains in the family!
::laughs:: Thank you Mr. Briody. I'm glad I at least get the red M&M's... I hear those are the best! :)
Okay fine. Listen, you don't know how hard this is. I have spent waay too much time on it already. 6 weeks my blue ink-pen.
It's finished. And it's nice. sort of. I ran out of space.
Okay bye.
Success!!! Now, if John will only write that poem, I'll know my 12 step program cannot fail!
Come on, John. Don't let Restless Native out-do you! Where is my poem???
Dear Little Miss Stood Me Up For My Delicious Apple Sandwiches,
I did write you a scrumptious petite poem. See the fourth comment after “A Story About Repelling...Isn't It?”
And *I* didn’t look for praise afterwards…..until now. *And*, I wrote it *before* Restlessnative.
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