A ravioli maker valued at about $150 was taken between 12:45 p.m. and 12:58 p.m. Oct. 8 in Williams-Sonoma at Westfield Old Orchard. Police said two females were seen standing by the appliances and one placing the ravioli maker in a bag. Police said the females were able to leave the store and elude a store representative.Like most people, I think stealing is wrong, but honestly, stealing a 150 dollar ravioli maker? That's awesome. And they were able to elude the store representatives. I mean, I am sure the reps are trained to look for thieves, but they probably expect them to steal CDs, DVDs, clothing, make-up, or maybe some food items. Certainly not a ravioli maker. There's so much I want to know about this story. So much.
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
File this under creative stealing.
From the Skokie News Police Blotter
Why am I doing this? Part 2
I talked about this in my very first post, but I realize now I only explained what I'm doing and how I'm doing it. There a lot of people out there who have started blogs for various reasons. And there are a lot of people who never started blogs for various reasons. Well, I will do my best to explain why I am blogging.
1) I love to write. I've been writing since I was in the third grade. My first story was what would now be termed fan fiction about Scooby-Doo. My third grade teacher let me read it to the class. I'm almost positive a vampire was staked. I continued to write short stories and more V, GI Joe and A-Team inspired fan fiction, short stories and novels through junior high.
Then I moved to another town and got distracted by girls. Anytime you are the new kid, it's a lot like being the latest iPhone. Everyone wants you because you are shiny and new, but later on, when the new one comes along, they are ready to move on. It wasn't that devastating to my self-esteem, and I did make some nice girlfriends out of the experience, but the point here is that it distracted me from writing.
I resumed writing in my Junior and Senior years of high school. And it was mainly poetry. A thesaurus rex of angsty poetry heavily influenced by Poe, Frost and the made-up tragedies of youth. My writing went into dormancy until intermittent periods in college. I was pretty much always a journaller, though. Well, an intermittent journal. And by intermittent, I mean, journal steadily for a few weeks and then pick it up again 4 months later.
Then my Creative Writing - Poetry - class reawakened the writer in me. I found my voice. It was awesome. Then over the next several years up to the present, I lost my voice, neglected my voice, abused my voice, threw my voice to the pigs and dogs, suffocated my voice with a novel of the French Revolution, left my voice in a road-side ditch, and finally found my voice all over again. However, I'm still not sure what to do with it. Next point, please.
2) I have almost no discipline. This is where the idea for forty days seemed like a good idea. I think I could do this for forty days. Just forty, I said to myself. But I must say, it worried me. Could I really do forty days? Forty days!?!? That's a long time. Every day!! Oh no, it's perfect because it's symbolic and I love symbolic stuff.
I am ashamed to say this, but until I write the blog entry for the day, I am internally (sometimes externally to my wife) whining about having to write. It's not as much fun as it used to be. It seems like work. In fact, it is work for me: I write for a living now. Sure, it's boring, technical instructions on how to use software, but I'm writing 8 hours a day, five days a week.
Still, I fear the blog post. I think all day about what I will write. Really. Before I started doing this SIX DAYS AGO, I would occasionally journal. I would write down sermon notes, great quotes and great experiences, and my reflections. I also would write down my creative ideas, usually an idea for a poem, short story or novel. And there were many of these ideas, sadly, that just disappeared into the fog of my brain before I got around to writing them down. It really does make me sad to think about that.
Why wasn't this good enough? Well, it was really just for me. Sure, like all writers, I half-hoped someone would discover my journals after my death and be able to form some brilliant and probably embarrassing bio about my life. Or at least I would be worthy of some Phd candidate's 20-year long a dissertation. Ultimately, the journals were for myself, and unfortunately those creative flourishes never took root. Which leads me to my third point.
3) I need an audience. I don't know how many people read this blog. I thought I would care a lot, and in fact this kept me from even starting one for quite some time, but really it doesn't bother me that much. That's the personal and emotional side of me.
The writer side of me needs an audience. As I learned in creative writing class, a writer operates as if someone is looking over their shoulder. This is how it is for me. Writing a public blog forces me out on the stage. I have to attempt to edit, proof and rewrite things. The nice thing is that since it's a blog, I can go back and edit anytime I want. Recently someone told me they liked my post but I made a grammatical faux pas. It was nice to know I could just go in and edit the document and click Update.
The blog form is liberating and vulnerable at the same time. I want to become a better writer. I know I can't really become a better writer by just journalling. I'm aware a blog is not the best answer for receiving criticism and feedback on my writing, but it helps me begin the slow and steady journey to joining a writer's group or taking some classes.
4) I feel like I have something to say. When it comes to writing about one's life, I still feel very young. I have not had enough life experiences to justify an autobiography or even a memoir. And I am not a fan of online catharsis just for the sake of vomiting feelings.
However, I feel like God has give me a unique perspective on life. This perspective was largely shaped by my beliefs, relationships and experiences. Some of these experiences are worth sharing. Some of my insights may be worth sharing too.
I'm not sure if anyone out there was wondering why I started a blog. As I said before, people start blogs all the time. It's staggering to think about how many blogs are out there. This is mine, though. This is my attempt to figure out what to do with my voice. Thanks for reading.
1) I love to write. I've been writing since I was in the third grade. My first story was what would now be termed fan fiction about Scooby-Doo. My third grade teacher let me read it to the class. I'm almost positive a vampire was staked. I continued to write short stories and more V, GI Joe and A-Team inspired fan fiction, short stories and novels through junior high.
Then I moved to another town and got distracted by girls. Anytime you are the new kid, it's a lot like being the latest iPhone. Everyone wants you because you are shiny and new, but later on, when the new one comes along, they are ready to move on. It wasn't that devastating to my self-esteem, and I did make some nice girlfriends out of the experience, but the point here is that it distracted me from writing.
I resumed writing in my Junior and Senior years of high school. And it was mainly poetry. A thesaurus rex of angsty poetry heavily influenced by Poe, Frost and the made-up tragedies of youth. My writing went into dormancy until intermittent periods in college. I was pretty much always a journaller, though. Well, an intermittent journal. And by intermittent, I mean, journal steadily for a few weeks and then pick it up again 4 months later.
Then my Creative Writing - Poetry - class reawakened the writer in me. I found my voice. It was awesome. Then over the next several years up to the present, I lost my voice, neglected my voice, abused my voice, threw my voice to the pigs and dogs, suffocated my voice with a novel of the French Revolution, left my voice in a road-side ditch, and finally found my voice all over again. However, I'm still not sure what to do with it. Next point, please.
2) I have almost no discipline. This is where the idea for forty days seemed like a good idea. I think I could do this for forty days. Just forty, I said to myself. But I must say, it worried me. Could I really do forty days? Forty days!?!? That's a long time. Every day!! Oh no, it's perfect because it's symbolic and I love symbolic stuff.
I am ashamed to say this, but until I write the blog entry for the day, I am internally (sometimes externally to my wife) whining about having to write. It's not as much fun as it used to be. It seems like work. In fact, it is work for me: I write for a living now. Sure, it's boring, technical instructions on how to use software, but I'm writing 8 hours a day, five days a week.
Still, I fear the blog post. I think all day about what I will write. Really. Before I started doing this SIX DAYS AGO, I would occasionally journal. I would write down sermon notes, great quotes and great experiences, and my reflections. I also would write down my creative ideas, usually an idea for a poem, short story or novel. And there were many of these ideas, sadly, that just disappeared into the fog of my brain before I got around to writing them down. It really does make me sad to think about that.
Why wasn't this good enough? Well, it was really just for me. Sure, like all writers, I half-hoped someone would discover my journals after my death and be able to form some brilliant and probably embarrassing bio about my life. Or at least I would be worthy of some Phd candidate's 20-year long a dissertation. Ultimately, the journals were for myself, and unfortunately those creative flourishes never took root. Which leads me to my third point.
3) I need an audience. I don't know how many people read this blog. I thought I would care a lot, and in fact this kept me from even starting one for quite some time, but really it doesn't bother me that much. That's the personal and emotional side of me.
The writer side of me needs an audience. As I learned in creative writing class, a writer operates as if someone is looking over their shoulder. This is how it is for me. Writing a public blog forces me out on the stage. I have to attempt to edit, proof and rewrite things. The nice thing is that since it's a blog, I can go back and edit anytime I want. Recently someone told me they liked my post but I made a grammatical faux pas. It was nice to know I could just go in and edit the document and click Update.
The blog form is liberating and vulnerable at the same time. I want to become a better writer. I know I can't really become a better writer by just journalling. I'm aware a blog is not the best answer for receiving criticism and feedback on my writing, but it helps me begin the slow and steady journey to joining a writer's group or taking some classes.
4) I feel like I have something to say. When it comes to writing about one's life, I still feel very young. I have not had enough life experiences to justify an autobiography or even a memoir. And I am not a fan of online catharsis just for the sake of vomiting feelings.
However, I feel like God has give me a unique perspective on life. This perspective was largely shaped by my beliefs, relationships and experiences. Some of these experiences are worth sharing. Some of my insights may be worth sharing too.
I'm not sure if anyone out there was wondering why I started a blog. As I said before, people start blogs all the time. It's staggering to think about how many blogs are out there. This is mine, though. This is my attempt to figure out what to do with my voice. Thanks for reading.
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