Writer's Block Party
I’m having this party. It’s gonna be a party where I can’t produce any real writing. We’re celebrating all the ideas I’ve ever had that never made it to the page.
We’re gonna dance in circles because I never got around to writing Things I Wish Weren’t Taboo. We’ll boogie down to the forgotten title 1000 Words On Larry David’s Hair, and we’ll turn into wallflowers while we whisper about the grand potential of Insecurities I’m Willing To Admit.
The Facebook invite says that the party will go from dusk ’til dawn, but we all know true writer’s block lasts much, much longer.
We’re gonna take a shot of tequila every time someone says, “You should put that on your blog!”
There’s that guy in the kitchen mixing cocktails with this recipe he came up with. We’re calling it A Thank You Note To Aziz Ansari For Addressing The Creepy Dudes Issue, and it’s very strong. Very, very strong.
Let’s go outside and light fireworks because, fuck it: I Used To Have God Parents But My Mom & Dad Broke Up With Them. Boom boom, if you know what I mean. The neighbors are asking us to keep it down, but they’d also like it if that Ode To Obama piece could finally see the light of day.
We’re running out of ice, but at least How To Grow Up In A Small Town With Liberal Parents never got written.
I’ll have to hold your hair back while you puke, but maybe this would be a good time to tell you about How Carrie Bradshaw Blew It. I’ll scroll through the Notes app on my phone, and tell you about all the half-thoughts I’ve had while sitting at stoplights.
The police are banging on the door. Let’s just let them in, because what would they even find with a Google search warrant, anyway? They’d search my name and find some old blog posts. They’d see I haven’t written anything real in months. They’d tell us to keep it down, and to hurry up and write Why Aging Is Cool already.
It’s true. The music is loud. I can hardly hear myself think of ideas I’m never gonna follow through on. I might as well stop asking all the Questions I Have About Star Wars and finally get over the fact that I Shoulda’ Been An English Major.
But after the party winds down, it’ll just be a few mellow people, and I’ll tell you all about how I May Be A Bad Feminist & A Freshman Grownup, But I’m Stickin’ To Both.
Let’s party.
