My MTS post was rejected for being "too wordy and not funny". My last/first post (this was years ago) was also rejected for being "not funny", and I figured there must have been something within my latest one which might have been at least mildly amusing, but apparently there were too many words to sift through to find it. My verbosity was mostly explanations to avoid people asking questions in comments, given that 90% of the community is more than likely American and unfamiliar with my predominantly British mocks. The majority of posts I read on there are what I would consider "not funny", and TBH the mod seems more happy to post 'stupids' which are likely to cause offence or result in the poster being laughed at. The whole place is like some kind of personality competition these days, no longer about joining in mocking daily stupids, but out-mocking each other. That, apparently, is "funny".
Still - upon receiving one of the mod's infamous quick-fire rejection notes, last thing at night before going to bed, after watching Secret Millionaire and being subsequently highly-strung... not fun. Luckily, Paul was already in bed and asleep so I couldn't sit on LJ ranting about it, and nor did I get my diary out. Instead I tried to concentrate on a chapter of Phantom of the Opera, managed to read about two paragraphs of it, and gave up. The rant-which-would-have-been instead ended up as a stream-of-consciousness rambling in my brain. The overhanging theme was something along the lines of "Frell you for bringing forth my feelings of inadequacies, and frell you for being so full of your own self-importance that I think it actually matters what you think of me."
Kind of nonsensical, but these things always are.
Anyway, I woke up this morning and felt okay for a while... but ended up snapping at Paul at the cashpoint half an hour later. And then nearly got into an argument with Heather over punctuation once at work. Then I had a juicy piece of copy-typing to get my teeth into and have mellowed slightly, because my brain's had something else to figure out than why I react in ridiculous ways to things which are completely unimportant...
If anyone is interested, incidentally, my mocks were: Jordan's conversation with JK Rowling (which I posted here), the doctor being confused about the letterheaded paper (also posted here - I accept this isn't so much stupid as WTF, but still), Big Brother contestants not knowing what the word "peril" meant, Simon Amstell's worrying - if potentially sarcastic - concept of female anatomy, and Paul's silly French mistake a few years ago. If anyone cares enough for me to tell the last three in more detail, you can let me know, but apparently they're not funny enough for human consumption. :P
As to the grammar issue this morning, this is something I've encountered before - with my father, of all people. Heather keeps trying to correct the word "children's" (i.e "the children's mother") to "childrens' " ("the childrens' mother"), which is obviously wrong. The conversation went something like this:
Heather: Shouldn't it be "childrens-apostrophe"?
Me: No, because "children" is the plural. There's no such thing as "a children".
Heather: *goes away, thinks about it* But in 'Magistrates' its "Magistrates-apostrophe".
Me: Yes, because "Magistrates" has an 'S' on the end! "Children" doesn't!
I think she finally accepted it, but meh. Has anyone else encountered this misconception that "children" should be further pluralised to "childrens" and an apostrophe put on the end? I know it's one of those words which defies the usual apostrophe logic, but still, it's not that difficult a concept to grasp...
As a result of this conversation, anyway, one of the other fee earners came up to me a few minutes ago to ask for advice on a grammar issue. Score!
Meh, I have three different sets of tickets to book and no bloody money, and I'm not supposed to be using the credit card any more until some more is paid off, especially as the Asda spend has gone out. I suppose I can just put them on there for now and pay it off next month. In which case, I should probably get them booked this weekend. And I still need to buy a printer and a replacement remote control for the DVD player, because ours broke the other week and we only have basic functionality on the front of the machine.
Thank goodness its an early day for me today. And also lunchtime.
End point: anything which makes me question my own self-worth, no matter how pointless or apparently trivial, is a thing to be avoided. Unfortunately it takes the damage being done for me to realise that.
PS: I was semi-inspired to write a PotC:AWE fanfic last night. It would be an alternative-ending to the sequence where Elizabeth sees her father in the Locker and tries to go after him, except that in my version she would jump ship and Jack would have to go after her. I was going to figure out some reason why Jack could bring her back which would involve him already being in the Locker whereas they'd come from outside, but I didn't think it through much further than that. It was really more... little images. Jack's eye-rolling acceptance that he'll have to jump in the ocean to save her AGAIN, and Will standing there like a lemon when Elizabeth breaks down in Jack's arms.
My two favourite moments in the third film are the Will/Elizabeth conversation below deck ("You thought I loved him...") and Jack and Elizabeth escaping from the Dutchman near the end - I mean, it was throwing us a bone, but it was something. We haven't managed to see the missing scenes yet but I hold out some hope... There were some lovely J/E missing sequences from the first one...
I may well write it, but that depends on whether the images turn into anything more. Last night's mental horribleness kind of beat the Muse into hiding, which was wholly unfair given my current (lack of) writing habits, AGAIN. I REALLY need to update "Strange Glue".