Draliman’s Guide to Lists
A shopping list (noun) is a list of items needed to be purchased by a shopper, a grocery list is a the most popular type of shopping list– including items that need to be procured on the next visit to the grocery store. It’s time to get extremely personal. Share your grocery list with us! Scan it, snap a photo, or write it out.
Making a list can be a daunting prospect for the uninitiated. Without proper preparation, your list could go very badly wrong! I hope that this guide will help you to get the most out of your lists.
We’re going to concentrate today on one of the most common types of list – the “shopping list”. To explain, this is a “list” you might make before you go “shopping”.
A Bureaucratic Mishap
Hello, and welcome to my entry into this week’s Friday Fictioneers, hosted as always by Rochelle. The goal is to write roughly 100 words in response to a photo, which this week has been supplied by fellow Friday Fictioneerer Sandra Crook! It looks like the ruins of a Roman coliseum to me, so I’m going with that.
To view other entries to this week’s prompt, click here.
Copyright Sandra Crook
The roar of the crowd, until now muted and distant, hit Flavius like a slap in the face as the heavy wooden door opened. The long, dark tunnel stretched into the distance, where Flavius could see a square of light – the coliseum.
Flavius had never felt so excited. His life-long dream – to be a gladiator! He strode confidently towards the light, to meet his opponent and find glory.
The gate slammed shut behind him. He glanced around. Wait – where was his sword, his armour?
In front of him, the lions growled hungrily.
Surely there has been some sort of mistake?
Birthday Yay!
Yes, it’s my birthday again. It came around so quickly! It seems like only a year ago that I last had one.
Here’s a freaky thing. I opened my Chrome browser (Google’s browser) this morning and clicked on the little animation to “view today’s doodle” (for those of you who don’t know, Google do doodles for famous events, birthdays and so on) and this is what appeared:
Holy crivens! A doodle just for me! I knew signing up to Google+ was giving one of the world’s biggest corporations too much information. Am I supposed to write a thank you note, do you think?
I haven’t been posting much recently, apart from trying to keep up with the Friday Fictioneers challenge, and there’s a good reason (and this time it’s not laziness!).
I’m house hunting. This isn’t taking up a huge amount of actual physical time (“physical time?” – you know what I mean). It’s taking up a huge amount of mental time. Even when I’m not actually looking at house websites or talking to the bank, I’m thinking about it. My little brain doesn’t have room for anything else.
Why am I looking to buy a house (let’s say it like it is – why am I trying to persuade the bank to buy me a house)? I hate change, big time. I like my routine. I hate making phone calls. I hate taking risks. I hate suddenly having no money. This doesn’t sound like the correct mind-set for such an endeavour.
I’m getting older, fast. My pension, as it stands, will barely keep me in cheese and pizzas, let alone pay rent. So I need to get a house and pay it off before I retire. Otherwise I’m going to be living in my car.
So I’m just going to have to suck it up, take it one step at a time and let the cards fall as they may.
I’ve also learned some great estate agent terms!
- cozy – not even enough room to swing a cat
- compact – see cozy
- low maintenance garden – no grass
- green views – if you go upstairs, hang dangerously out of the window and squint a bit you may catch sight of a distant field
- parking for 2 cars – parking for 2 Smart Cars or 1 human-sized car
- 2 bedrooms – house built pre-90s, 2 bedrooms. House built 90s onwards – 1 small bedroom and 1 “bedroom” too small to actually get a bed in
- in need of modernisation – falling to bits
Wish me luck!
West Beach Story
It’s Friday Fictioneers time again, hosted as always by Rochelle. This week’s photo comes to us courtesy of E. A. Wicklund. You can read all the entries here – stop by and take a look!
I was going to write a story entitled “Invasion!” but this morning I decided to turn it on its head and do a sort of Romeo and Juliet type thing instead. Only with seagulls!
Copyright E. A. Wicklund
“Great mating dance, Romero, but this can never work.”
“But I… I love you, Julia!”
“And I love you, but I’m ‘West Beach Raiders’.”
“And I’m ‘Town Gull Massive’. Deadly rivals, always and forever.”
“Yes. But I shall love you from afar, always and forever. Now go, go back to town before you’re missed!”
“I shall be back when I am able, Julia, my love!”
All my thoughts are consumed by her. I can’t think, I can’t eat, I can’t slee… ooh, tourist, ten o’clock high! Zero protective head gear is confirmed. Begin bombing run, bomb bay doors open, attaaaaack!
Love Notes – Full Circle
Sometimes called a billet-doux, or a love letter, a love note is a personal letter to a loved one expressing affection. The loved one does not necessarily have to be animate, human, alive, or known.
The theme for this week’s Prompt for the Promptless, hosted as ever by the talented Queen Creative, is love letters!
I thought we’d take a look at love letters through the ages. Let’s start with a love letter recently discovered carved into a stone tablet, which was buried in the middle of a desert somewhere probably.
Ug,
Me kill mammoth. Me get meat. Me big. Me strong. Me want you. Me make you happy.
Me pick you up at eight.
Ug
As you can see, the cavemen didn’t waste words – in fact they didn’t have many words to waste! There is a directness to this letter which I find refreshing.
Next up, let’s zoom all the way forward to medieval England. A period of chivalrous knights and beautiful damsels, you say? Not a bit of it! Take a look at this recently discovered example.
My Lady Emily,
You hath spurned me for the attentions of Sir Bravealot and humiliated me in front of ye entire court. Therefore I hath struck down Sir Bravealot with mine sword. I hath also seen ye glancing in ye direction of Sir Slashalot. Thusly hath I sliced him open also.
Thus hath you but one suitor remaining in life – me.
I shalt pick ye up at eight.
Sir Killalot
Wow – serious stuff. I imagine that “Lady Emily” feels pretty special as Sir Killalot slaughters his way into her heart.
Let’s zip forward to the roaring Twenties next. Now we really get to hear some flowery stuff, as evidenced by this next example.
Your alabaster skin, soft and pure as the most perfect of rose petals. Your eyes, sparkling as the stars in the night sky. The smile that comes so easily to your lips, lighting the room like the brightest of suns. Your laugh, the tinkling of the most perfectly crafted of wind chimes.
Crispin Bonneville, Esq
Surely we have reached the very pinnacle of love letters! Let’s try the Fifties next.
Dear Emmy-Sue,
Gosh, I enjoyed our lunch date today! You’re so smart and so pretty, Emmy-Sue! Top in your class, a cheerleader and one of the most popular girls in the school! Gosh, Emmy-Sue, I can’t wait to take you to the sock hop tonight! And please assure your Ma and Pa I’ll have you home safe and sound by ten!
Gosh, I’ll pick you up at eight!
Chad
Although not as flowery as our Twenties example, I love the sweet innocence of this letter. Any girl would surely feel special to receive this! Finally, we’ll take a look at a typical love letter of our time. Well, love text.
And there you have it. I’m not even sure it’s written in English. I mean, what the hell? Such a shame.
We have seen that love letters have pretty much gone full circle. We began, and ended, with the caveman.
No Way In
It’s time for Friday Fictioneers again! It’s hard to believe a whole week has passed already. Friday Fictioneers is hosted by Rochelle, and we all try to write a 100 word post in response to a photo prompt, which this week is supplied by Rich Voza.
This week’s prompt is rife with possibilities – and I got nuffin’! Therefore I’m going to try a spot of dialogue with a truly silly ending. I’m even popping it in my “Just Silly” category :-). A bit of mid-week madness, if you will.
To view others’ entries, click here!
Copyright Rich Voza
“What the… what’re those doors doing sat there like that?”
“Dunno, man. Weird. What’re you doing?”
“Looking for the hidden cameras.”
“I don’t see any.”
“Me neither. Hey, what’s this chap up to?”
“Aaargh! No!” yelled the new arrival, skidding to a stop.
“What’s wrong, man?”
“Don’t you see? Look!”
“What, the weird doors?”
“Yeah! Someone’s stolen my house!”
“Your house?”
“Yeah! They’ve just left the doors!”
The new arrival looked thoughtful and then began to laugh.
“What’s so funny? Someone’s just stolen your house!”
“The joke’s on them!” he giggled. “How are they gonna get in without the doors?”
A Choice of Dark or Light
Approach-approach conflict is the psychological conflict that results when a choice must be made between two desirable alternatives.
I thought I’d do a DraliDoodle for this week’s PftP, brought to us by the marvellous Queen Creative!
The Light Side allows you to help out and makes you feel good! The Dark Side gives you the power to help yourself which sounds great in theory, but let’s be honest, it’s a bit “evil”.
Why is there not a Grey Side?
Unfortunately, by the end of the doodle I’m none the wiser. That’s me in a nutshell. I can’t make decisions.
Thanks to Lucasfilm.
A Quick Bite
Weekly Writing Challenge: Dialogue – Begin a post with a scene that includes dialogue.
“No way, I get first bite!” snapped the blond-haired vampire, his fangs glistening in the glow of the alley’s single working street light. He crossed his arms and glared at his brown-haired accomplice, a girl who looked no older than twenty but in reality had grown up dancing the Charleston.
“Like, OMG, no way! Greedy much?” she replied. Regardless of her upbringing before she had been “turned”, she had become the eternal student . A college campus was an ideal hunting ground and she had an unfortunate tendency to use the vernacular of her class mates.
“Must you talk like that, Charlotte-Ann?” asked the other vampire, resignation in his voice.
“Like yeah, Samson. And it’s Charlie.”
All the while the girl sat huddled against a dumpster. She was in her mid-twenties, had deep red hair from a bottle and was dressed for the clubs. She clutched her purse to her chest and trembled as she watched the pair arguing. Mascara stained her face as the tears fell.
“Charlotte-Ann, Charlie, whatever, I saw her first!”
“Come on Samson! Man, you got first bite last time. OMG, how unfair is this? You totally suck!”
“Yes,” replied Samson, showing his fangs. “Yes I do.”
“Not suck, suck. Like totally. OMG man, like totally.”
“Sometimes,” said Samson, “you make no sense whatsoever. I so preferred you in the sixties.”
Meanwhile back at the dumpster, the girl’s eyes had opened wide as she watched the strange argument. She had no idea what was happening but this strange pair no longer seemed to be paying any attention to her. Slowly, carefully, she began to edge towards the end of the alley where she could see cars passing by.
“Oh yeah, the sixties!” said Charlie, her eyes unfocusing as she cast her mind back. “Sex, drugs, rock and roll, more sex…”
“So easy to get blood in those days. With all the LSD nobody knew what they were seeing,” remembered Samson. “But, back to the issue at hand. It’s my turn to go first.”
“It so isn’t! You so said it would be my turn this time!”
“Fine,” said Samson, sighing. “We’ll go together. Let’s eat!”
They turned to the dumpster.
“Um,” said Charlie, “like, where’d she go?”
“Idiot!” snarled Samson.
“Moron!” snapped Charlie.
An Unexpected Day Off!
I had a wonderful surprise this week. On Tuesday myself and a colleague reached ten years at our job. I was thinking maybe there might be cake, but no, way better than that!
First off, we get a day off to celebrate! Here’s the proof, copied from the holiday calendar.
Yay! (I’m “Ali” by the way).
At this point I’d just like to mention that in those ten years, I haven’t had a single day off sick. Not one! How healthy am I?
This is the best bit. After the speech we were each handed a little package. I was thinking box of chocolates but no, way better than that. Turns out the managers had been in contact with our contract illustrator and had sent a full specification for a great drawing, including all our favourite stuff. I’m even shown wearing my fluffy blue jacket (first worn by me as a PhD student in the early 90s – they don’t make ’em like that any more!).
Here it is. The ladies on the couch are the girls from the band Alisha’s Attic, one of my favourites, as they might appear today! Nice of them to come visit.
Look, there’s even a DraliDoodle on the wall!
My box sets are there, my X-Files mug, my Sophie Ellis Bextor CD! It’s a high quality print in a lovely frame.
How great is that!
One Last Job
It’s Friday Fictioneers time again, hosted by Rochelle! Today’s photo prompt, to which we attempt to write a 100 word story or poem or such, is provided by John Nixon. To view all the entries for this week click here – check back often as more are added through the week!
Copyright John Nixon
The old man tottered into the shop and pointed his walking stick at the sales girl.
“This is a hold up. Hand over the wedding dress in the window!”
“That’s a walking stick, Sir,” said the girl, unimpressed.
“Is it? Wanna bet your life on that?”
A security guard joined the debate.
“Please lower your walking stick and leave the store, Sir.”
A moment later the old man left the shop, dress over one shoulder. Former master armourer to the notorious Gianni family, he blew a little smoke from the end of his stick and walked off down the street.
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