Category: Writing

Long-Legged Fly
animals · art · Flowers · Humor · Nature · Nature photography · Photography · Summer · Writing

Long-Legged Fly

Amy22 Comments

AKA Condylostylus mundus

Isn’t it dreamy?

I don’t know which is worse: the common name or the Latin name.

When I noticed this stunning bug on a wildflower that is growing up through my rosebush, its legs weren’t the first thing I thought about, nor clamored to see. My first thought wasn’t “I need to be able to judge its leg length compared to other flies’ leg lengths!” I had never seen one of these before, and I am not sure that I ever will again. It is not native to my area.

I tried not to scare it away as I reached for my phone. You know how I like to chase things that are cute – or in this case stunningly beautiful – and you know how they run away from me (bunnies, bumblebees, butterflies, I’m looking at you…). I inched closer to this marvelous being, and was able to capture a few shots. Unfortunately, my phone was completely captivated and was unable to focus on the creature very well, and I ended up with only one decent photo.

After the Beauty Queen of the Backyard flew off, I went inside and did some research. Google told me this electrifyingly blue-green insect was called a Long-Legged Fly. First of all, this bug did not have Daddy-Long Leg legs – that would have been pretty obvious, and honestly? Ridiculous. My second complaint was: why are we focusing on legs when we have an entire blue-green iridescent body that is deserving of a better name than one given to a hillbilly at a dive bar in a Holler?

And then there is the Latin, official name: Condylostylus mundus. Really? The only thing I see here is stylus, and maybe that is vaguely appropriate, but we need to alter the word to stylish.

A far better photo, likely by a professional who doesn’t chase down shiny creatures in the backyard

In summary, I have renamed this fly, which, by the way, eats aphids and other pests, and is completely not like the regular fly that we associate with trash and maggots. (Sidebar: I absolutely abhor maggots, and will run for the hills, alternatively screeching and gagging if I see even one of them.) Flies are disgusting. I know they’re necessary, but I also know every time they land they throw up, and I can be down with the delectable bee vomit, but I am not down with fly vomit under any circumstances.

But I digress. Back to the stylish fly. I’ve decided to rename it, and I think that the governing bodies of naming insects should listen to me.

Stylishirridescentbluegreenfly regularlengthlegs

Breadcrumbs
daily prompt · Writing

Breadcrumbs

Amy26 Comments

Which food, when you eat it, instantly transports you to adolescence? (Prompt altered for context.)

Breadcrumbing signs

A typical breadcrumber might:

  • fail to reply to texts or chats for several days or weeks, then send a few long messages without explaining why they temporarily disappeared
  • mention shared interests or experiences to reinforce a sense of connection 
  • keep you looking to the future with vague statements like, “Let’s pencil that in”
  • imply that they’d love to see you but ignore your requests to make an actual plan
  • keep messages superficial and generic instead of offering concrete details or showing interest in your daily life
  • view or like your social media posts without responding, while still ignoring actual messages you’ve sent
  • communicate primarily with photos, memes, or emoji
  • show interest in hooking up but not spending non-physical time together

Source: https://www.healthline.com/health/relationships/breadcrumbing#takeaway

Bread-crumbing will stop only if you refuse to exist only on small pieces of stale bread. They’re not going to stop dropping breadcrumbs like they’re sloppily making Thanksgiving stuffing, so the onus is on the person who wants the actual meal, not the topping. And if you have a gluten allergy, run for the hills. Everyone else, just run away from the crumbs. Find the whole loaf of bread somewhere else. 

Red
poetry · Writing

Red

Amy12 Comments

I picked my red dress to wear today

Not sure why

It felt like a red day

Found that red heart necklace

Clasped it ‘round my neck

Stood back and smiled

Put a red bracelet on my wrist

Might as well complete the style

Thought twice about that poem

About answering that prompt

Because what if even just a little breath

Is enough to cause its death?

The red of the notification

Finally arrived

I wondered what had happened to time

I clicked on the app

Called Snap

Saw a red heart next to your face

Smiled and thought I’ve moved up a place

But the words that I read

After seeing so much red

Were not words I expected

I sent you a chat

I heard nothing back

I realized then

When I breathed it life

This delicate thing

Would not breathe again

It’s not cool that I said all that

It’s not chill that it’s in my head

It’s dead

Isn’t it?

Isn’t it?

💔

Red, Taylor Swift

Loving him is like driving a new Maserati down a dead end street
Faster than the wind, passionate as sin, ending so suddenly
Loving him is like trying to change your mind
Once you’re already flying through the free fall
Like the colors in autumn, so bright, just before they lose it all

Losing him was blue, like I’d never known
Missing him was dark gray, all alone
Forgetting him was like trying to know
Somebody you never met
But loving him was red
Loving him was red

Touching him was like realizing all you ever wanted
Was right there in front of you
Memorizing him was as easy as knowing all the words
To your old favorite song
Fighting with him was like trying to solve a crossword
And realizing there’s no right answer
Regretting him was like wishing you never found out
That love could be that strong

Losing him was blue, like I’d never known
Missing him was dark gray, all alone
Forgetting him was like trying to know
Somebody you never met
But loving him was red
Oh, red
Burning red

Remembering him comes in flashbacks and echoes
Tell myself it’s time now gotta let go
But moving on from him is impossible
When I still see it all in my head
In burning red
Burning, it was red

Oh, losing him was blue, like I’d never known
Missing him was dark gray, all alone
Forgetting him was like trying to know
Somebody you never met
‘Cause loving him was red
Yeah, yeah, red
Burning red

And that’s why he’s spinning ’round in my head
Comes back to me, burning red
Yeah, yeah
His love was like driving a new Maserati down a dead end street

Source: Musixmatch

Songwriters: Taylor Swift

Red lyrics © Sony/atv Tree Publishing, Taylor Swift Music

Delicate
daily prompt · poems · poetry · Writing

Delicate

Amy5 Comments

Write about your first crush.

They’re all bunched together now

In my head somehow

I can’t tell you about the first one

Without telling you about the second one

And so on and so on and so on

So let me bring it to now:

I don’t want to write about it

It’ll get jinxed

I won’t breathe it into life on the paper

Or the screen

If you’ve ever tried to keep something safe

You’ll know what I mean

It’s not cool if I say all that

I think it’s chill that it’s in my head

But

I don’t wanna share

It’s delicate

Inspired by the song Delicate by Taylor Swift

This ain’t for the best
My reputation’s never been worse, so
You must like me for me
We can’t make
Any promises now, can we, babe?
But you can make me a drink

Dive bar on the East Side, where you at?
Phone lights up my nightstand in the black
Come here, you can meet me in the back
Dark jeans and your Nikes, look at you
Oh damn, never seen that color blue
Just think of the fun things we could do

This ain’t for the best
My reputation’s never been worse, so
You must like me for me
(Yeah, I want you)
We can’t make
Any promises now, can we, babe?
But you can make me a drink

Is it cool that I said all that?
Is it chill that you’re in my head?
‘Cause I know that it’s delicate (delicate)
Is it cool that I said all that?
Is it too soon to do this yet?
‘Cause I know that it’s delicate

Isn’t it, isn’t it, isn’t it?
Isn’t it?
Isn’t it, isn’t it, isn’t it?
Isn’t it delicate?

Third floor on the West Side, me and you
Handsome, you’re a mansion with a view
Do the girls back home touch you like I do?
Long night with your hands up in my hair
Echoes of your footsteps on the stairs
Stay here, honey, I don’t wanna share

This ain’t for the best
My reputation’s never been worse, so
You must like me for me
(Yeah, I want you)
We can’t make
Any promises now, can we, babe?
But you can make me a drink

Is it cool that I said all that?
Is it chill that you’re in my head?
‘Cause I know that it’s delicate (delicate)
Is it cool that I said all that?
Is it too soon to do this yet?
‘Cause I know that it’s delicate

Isn’t it, isn’t it, isn’t it?
Isn’t it?
Isn’t it, isn’t it, isn’t it?
Isn’t it delicate?

Sometimes I wonder, when you sleep
Are you ever dreaming of me?
Sometimes when I look into your eyes
I pretend you’re mine all the damn time

Is it cool that I said all that?
Is it chill that you’re in my head?
‘Cause I know that it’s delicate (delicate)
(Yeah, I want you)
Is it cool that I said all that?
Is it too soon to do this yet?
‘Cause I know that it’s delicate (delicate)

Is it cool that I said all that? (Isn’t it?)
Is it chill that you’re in my head? (Isn’t it, isn’t it?)
‘Cause I know that it’s delicate (isn’t it delicate?)
(Yeah, I want you)
Is it cool that I said all that? (Isn’t it?)
Is it too soon to do this yet? (Isn’t it, isn’t it?)
‘Cause I know that it’s delicate

Isn’t it delicate?

Source: Musixmatch

Songwriters: Taylor Swift / Max Martin / Johan Karl Schuster

Delicate lyrics © Taylor Swift Music, Mxm Music Ab, Songs Of Universal Inc

Official video
My Heart Runneth Over
AI art · AI images · art · birthday gift · Cancer season zodiac · July birthday · music · prose · Short story · Siri · Summer · thank you · Writing

My Heart Runneth Over

Amy31 Comments

As we head into Cancer season of the zodiac, I prepare to celebrate another year older and maybe a little bit wiser, but maybe not.

My birthday is next month, and I don’t expect any presents, but today I received one of the best gifts I’ve ever received in my life.

Our own Siri wrote a magical tale just for me. Read Love Rollercoaster here. It’s a fabulous journey, full of gorgeous art, and an engaging spinning tale. As with every story, she weaves a song into the mix. (Take a look at the title of her story and you might guess the song.)

Read her story and get lost in the beautiful images and wonderful storytelling, as I did. Read another, you won’t be disappointed. Subscribe to never miss out on the next sweeping, galactic journey and to catch up on what you’ve missed.

My heart is full and so very happy. Thank you, thank you, my friend! ♥️

Rafael Nadal and the author of this interview pose together after the interview. Both are smiling. Breakfast With Rafa
blogging · daily prompt · Humor · Rafa Nadal · Summer · tennis · Writing

Breakfast With Rafa

Amy10 Comments

Describe one of your favorite moments.

It’s a top five moment. I’ve had a lot of favorite moments, but this one is top five, for sure. It was the first time in my life that I had a vision and a hope to accomplish something, and from start to finish, I did. The interview was my idea, and I brought it to the website team. Surprisingly, the stars lined up and everything from there went in my favor. I can’t adequately describe the feeling, other than to say that when whatever hopes and dreams you have/had for yourself seem insurmountable and then they happen, it’s euphoric. It’s the stunned disbelief, it’s the sitting back in your chair and laughing at what just happened. It’s the feeling that you get when you write a great poem – you’re in the zone. It’s an astonishment: did that just happen? It’s a gratefulness to the universe that is verbalized repeatedly. It’s a moment you don’t know if you can ever top, and you question why you would even try. It’s the culmination of hard work and determination and a heavy dose of stubbornness. It’s a thankfulness for loving words so much that you can use them to put together something other people will enjoy. It‘s Girl Power in practice.

Read my favorite moment here: Breakfast With Rafa.

©️2024, photo and interview itsamyisaid.com, all rights reserved. Use of photo and any and all parts of the interview expressly prohibited unless given special permission by the author.

Halt
daily prompt · poetry · Writing

Halt

Amy23 Comments

What are you good at?

I am hijacking this prompt. Another ego-based prompt? No thank you.

This poem is dedicated to all of the men out there who think the space I take up in the world is theirs in which to encroach upon.

Who do you think you are?

All of you

None of you

Were invited

I don’t want to hear any niceties

Any hello, I miss you

Stop thinking about me

Stop writing about me 

Stop talking about me

Stop contacting me

Stop showing up

Stop

All of you

There is nothing for you here

I am not Mother Fucking Teresa

I am not always nice

I will show no mercy

When I sense a threat

I don’t want to know you

I want to forget

©️2024, itsamyisaid.com, all rights reserved

Happy Mother’s Day
daily prompt · Love · Short story · Writing

Happy Mother’s Day

Amy16 Comments

Share a story about someone who had a positive impact on your life.

Tiny Baby and Mommy

Once upon a time, in a land about thirty miles away from where your author sits at this very moment, a tiny baby was born. She was born five weeks early because her mother chased around a cat with a baby chicken in its mouth and as a result, broke her waters. The baby’s father was away at sea, working hard as a ship’s captain and unable to return in time for the imminent premature birth of the tiny baby.

The tiny baby’s mother had to go to the hospital because the tiny baby insisted on being born, regardless of where her daddy was. The tiny baby didn’t care about that, she was ready to enter the world of the oxygen breathers. The tiny baby’s big sister took their mother to the hospital and waited in the father’s waiting room with a room full of expectant dads (this is how it was back in the day – dads waited in a room). After some time, the tiny baby was born. The tiny baby’s mother and big sister rejoiced.

The tiny baby grew as babies do, and eventually became a grown-up. Many people helped the tiny baby along the way, but there were only two at the start of the tiny baby’s life as an oxygen breather: her mommy and her big sister.

Happy Mother’s Day, everyone.

Tiny Baby and Big Sister

©️2024, itsamyisaid.com, all rights reserved

Mini-Hiatus
Writing

Mini-Hiatus

Amy50 Comments

Hello everyone, each day I draw closer to starting my new job. It has become evident to me that I won’t have the time to write very much or very often, and even leading up to starting my new job, I don’t have very much time to devote to the process.

It’s starting to get warm and nice outside and as you know, I like to be outside with the plants. It’s staying light later and the draw to be outside is considerably greater than when it gets dark earlier.

All of this to say that I’m taking a mini-hiatus from blogging. I’ll be training on my new job for months, not just for a few weeks. I also want to get into a routine of working out again, because nothing helps the mind more than moving the body.

There are still a lot of things that I need to do this week in my home office and around my house that I haven’t done, and I need to put down the phone and the laptop and do them.

I’m not going away forever, and I may still post, but I am not putting any pressure on myself. It’s a time of transition and it has been since I lost my job in March. There have been numerous large changes, not just that one, which has equated to me not being around very much.

This is not a goodbye, it’s a see you later.