Web presence/platform

Experts in my field (writing and editing) say that these days you need a platform to sell book and article ideas to agents and publishers. That platform seems to consist, as far as I can tell, of a “web presence,” meaning a personal web site and a blog that get lots of hits. I’ve had both for about three years ago, and just added this blog, not really to increase my web presence but to talk and stimulate discussion about all the things that exist and interest me that have nothing to do with food and food writing, the subjects of my other blog Tripe Soup, from current politics (Go, Obama, go!) to being a parent (a job much harder than anyone tells you before you become one), to the B.B. King concert I went to last Friday, to all the places I’ve traveled to and want to go, to how a brisk walk on a cold day makes you feel so blissed out it should be illegal, and how being a writer can really suck and is a lot harder than people think but is the best job in the whole world.

Part of that “web presence” that I’ve been working on is signing up for pages on LinkedIn, MySpace and Facebook, and although I’m not sure how virtually buying a beer for an old friend or taking care of another one’s “Green Patch” are helping my career. We’ll see. I did get a couple of well-known authors in my field to agree to be my “Facebook friend,” even though one I only met briefly and the other only saw from very far away when she sat on a panel at a conference. You never know…

Part of me, though, can’t help repeating to myself, “Fools’ names and fools’ faces are always seen in public places.”

Daylight Savings Time sucks

My kids are cranky and sleep-deprived thanks to this week’s dad-blasted, con-sarned @&#$% time change. Is it just me, or is it a royal pain in the ass to get used to? I’m adjusting okay but the kids are staying up until 11 p.m., miserable demons the next day.

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I know I’m going to offend all my female friends and relatives with what I’m about to say, but I’ve been holding back all these years and it’s time to come clean. I think that any woman who is over 25 years old and/or weighs more than 100 pounds should be legally forbidden to wear pedal pusher pants. They’re flattering on too few people; even lithe models look like they’re expecting a flood or couldn’t find anything to fit their long legs (I’m not jealous–my pants have a 34 inseam). And those clam-diggers shorten and broaden the female figure, so if it’s already a little short and broad it looks even more so. It’s a victimless crime, I know, but an affront to my aesthetic sensibilities. And what’s the benefit? Keeping your ankles cooler? This morning  in 40 degree weather I saw a lovely young woman,  slim and attractive, with  those short pants over high heels and pantyhose. And when will this trend pass? It’s been years now. Enough already.

Another pet peeve is the invention of venetian blinds. I know that like pedal pusher pants they are wildly popular, but I find them infuriating to operate. They never do what I want them to do, whether it’s going up or going down. And they’re a bitch to clean, the slats bend easily and stay bent, and the strings strangle a child to death every two weeks (more than 157 since 1995).

Calendars whose little nail holes continually rip are another, less serious aggravation, as are toaster ovens, with their planned obsolescence. I like the idea of toaster ovens, and use mine several times a day, but it seems like every single one I buy is a piece of crap and has to be replaced every year or two.

And then there’s people who don’t allow children at their weddings. They’re hurting no one but the parents, I guess, but I think a wedding is a significant celebration of a major life transition. I mean birth, marriage and death are pretty elemental to most of our lives. Why exclude certain generations at your wedding? What’s next, no one over sixty-five?

And don’t get me started about:

–How you can have 20,000 pens around your house and not a single one works.

–Things with suction cups that never stick to anything for longer than five seconds.

–Books with ink that’s not black.

–People who consider their bowel function an interesting conversational topic.

–25 single socks. Where the hell are their mates? I mean really, where are they?

–Retailers who clear out all their seasonal inventory way too early, so if your kid needs fuzzy slippers or snow boots in January or if you need some more sunscreen or a lawn chair in June you’re just shit out of luck.

Oh Obama!

I am a big Obama fan. Although Hillary used to attend church with my grandmother and her “husband” Bill is my homie, I just don’t see her as real or genuine and she is lacking in charisma. Many might disagree that charisma is vitally important for a president, but to me a U.S. president does not really have a lot of power. Sure, he or she has more than say, I do, but the holder of the job is not omnipotent. A president is a spokesperson, a sort of interface between government and the people. A president needs damn fine people skills.

Obama is charming, good looking and smart and I really hope he’s our next president. At times it looks likely, when he has the majority of the popular vote, but DH says the fix is in, that Hillary’s cronies will get her in the White House no matter what, so every time I feel a little burst of hope, it gets dashed down like Mash-a-Mouse at the fair.

It kills me that this country is supposed to be a democracy, but as we saw in Florida not long ago, the democratic process is toilet paper. Why do we go through the motions, bother to vote when our vote doesn’t count for shit? Because we can, I guess, because we can.

I know I promised pet peeves for today, and I have my list ready and all. But it just had to be about Obama today. Tonight is Mississippi and he’s likely to win yet again, but it is still unbearably scarily posssible that Hillary will be our next president.

Pet peeves tomorrow, I promise.

Uber-iconic

I keep seeing the word “iconic” everywhere I look. Has it been there all along or is it new? DH says its the new “unctuous.”

Speaking of such, you won’t find that word on this blog, “unctuous,” I mean. (Iconic may well show up eventually when I’m not paying attention). Nor will you see “perfect foil” or any other foodie terms. All mention of food is banned from this space, the only reference in the blog’s name. (No, a strumpet is not a crumpet–look it up!)

You’ll find my food writing galore at http://www.jenniferbrizzi.com and http://www.angelfire.com/moon2/jenniferbrizzi.

Cast Iron Strumpet is my place to write and bitch about life in general, without trying to boost my career or expand my platform. My place to have fun.

Tomorrow I’ll start bitching about my pet peeves. Come along for the ride if you dare …