Is Cornhole-ing an actual word? Has anyone outside of Pennsylvania actually heard of this game? Is cornhole one word or two? All legitimate questions.

So, apparently I’ve been drafted to a cornhole team. We’re competitive Cornhole-ing as a fundraiser. And yes, I know what some of you are thinking. And no, that’s not what Cornhole refers to. Cornhole, for the uninitiated, is basically a beanbag toss. I do not know why it’s called Cornhole. I’ve played it one time and, truth be told, sucked.
I was not gifted with eye/hand coordination. I’m the kid picked last for sports teams. I’m the kid who got mad at Super Mario Brothers and my inability to win, and threw the controller at the tv. I learned to drive backwards before I learned to drive forwards. This is the kind of skill I bring to my team. My team of two.
With fundraising on the line.
But let me tell you. What we lack in Cornhole skill, we are making up for in awesomeness. Sheer awesomeness. We’re Team ‘Stache, and not only will we have temporary tattoo mustaches on our index fingers-firmly displayed underneath our noses-but there is serious talk of matching shirts: “With great mustaches come great responsibility.”
We hope to win on awesomeness alone. In lieu of this, we hope to distract from our inability to Cornhole.
So, yeah, not much else going on with me. I ate a Twinkie yesterday. It was pretty amazing. I used my brute Momma strength and rearranged the living room on a whim. Also amazing.
Meanwhile, on the writing front, I tackled some horrific, awful issues with my first chapter. Two things happened: 1) the writing is tighter and 2) I made a heck of a lot more work for myself. I cut out like, three pages of flashback that added nothing but word count. Now I need to revise the beginning of the chapter so it makes sense, plus remember to sprinkle all that information throughout the rest of the plot–because it was actually important and was central to the main story line. It was just sloppy writing on my part; why vomit out the information and say, “Hey look, this is important” when I should reveal it as a more significant plot point later on?
Deep down, I know I should just turn off my internal editor and get the story out in its entirety. Then I can worry about the next seven hundred drafts I’ll do. But, man, it bugged me to the point it was becoming a distraction. And I’m easily distracted enough as it is, so we don’t need that. Nip it at the bud.
And finally, in an effort to continue fostering my writing kick this week, I’ve been wearing my hair in period hairstyles. Yeah, it’s weird. Yeah, I’m not terribly good at it. But I’ll tell you what: it’s helping. I don’t know if it’s just a change in my mindset or just the feeling of a hairstyle that’s not a ponytail (my signature ‘do). But it helped spark some writing. Whatever helps, eh?
And speaking of distracted, I just watched an infomercial for an (overly) expensive cd set called the 60s Music Revolution. Twice. Of note, Micky Dolenz is an abuser of the fedora. And I basically fell in love with every male singer onscreen. Twice.