Last night I pondered what my readers think of me. Truth is, I do not always write for the readers, I write because it is what I do, who I am. I write for me, and throw it out into the world.
In the past my writing has caused some familial controversy; I have pissed off family members without meaning to, or even thinking about what their reaction would be. Being a writer of my kind, I often expose other people. There are times when I can be crass or blunt and hurt someone's feelings, again not intentionally.
I also realized that my writing makes people cry. While I am happy that I have moved someone to tears with my words, I am also sad that I have passed on my sadness.
Writing to me is akin to the good Catholic going to the confessional. Instead of telling one person all my woes and sins, I choose to do it in a public forum.
While thinking about my words from a stranger's perspective, I discovered that my life may seem bleak more often than not. This really is not the case.
I have tried to be a pessimist, but it just does not stick. No matter how much I grieve or feel various pains, I believe in my life and try my damndest to enjoy it.
Having said that, I would like to share some more intimate things about myself.
I am a complete spazz. Recently I was in Atlanta staying with my brother and sister in law. In the matter of three days I managed to break a candle; spill my soda not once or twice, but three times; back my brother's car into a tree; and, finally, while enjoying sitting outside by the fire pit, I fell to the ground as the camping chair gave way and I landed legs up and ass down.
Hearing my sister in law laugh was awesome! She has a great laugh that is infectious and all I could do was laugh along (which did nothing to help me get up and out of the broken chair).
I am equally a dork at home. I make jokes that only I seem to get and laugh at. Explaining the jokes just makes it worse and makes me laugh harder.
In an effort to lose weight I have taken to running from one side of my house to the other, which has resulted in my pants falling down and me tripping over my pug (though that last may just be another part of the ongoing plot my pug has to kill me).
I accidentally in half-sleep sprayed my lady parts with hair spray instead of the lady parts spray.
I would have said vagina, but I am thinking of my readers who may still cringe at that word.
Oh, and to those readers, get over it. VAGINA.
The hairspray was super hold. I was, in effect, painfully glued shut and no, I did not take the opportunity to try any new styles.
Love is awesome, love of family, love children, love of people here and gone. Love and laughter combined are even more amazing.
If you see me in person, you will probably see me carrying a cup of diet coke -- you should probably stay a few feet away as I am probably going to spill it at some point.
If you see me in a downward dog yoga position, please call for help because I do not do yoga and I am not doing that on purpose.
I would say I should stay away from scissors, but cutting hair is one of the tasks where I excel. I do not hesitate to say I am a fantastic hairstylist, but I wear my own hair in the same way I did in 1982.
If I try to play pool, I will hit myself and others around me with the cue, but I will never hit the actual ball.
I cannot carry a tune, but I will sing loud and proud as if I can, more often singing the wrong lyrics without a care. Madonna should have been more clear with her lyrics, because I will forever sing, "last night I dreamt of some bagels."
There will always be sorrow and sadness, there will always be losses, and I will continue to explore my feelings on them.
I am not one dimensional, I do not fit into any one box.
I may not wish on the morning star, but I do believe one day we will all find the rainbow connection.
And yes, you may end up being a person who inspires me to write, I may out you in some form, but never more than I am willing to out myself.
Lastly, to remove hairspray from unwanted places soap and water will work just fine!
Loved it - and I am one of the readers who cringes when she hears the word "vagina' :)
ReplyDeleteI am assuming it was Patty's laugh and not Carms - their laughs are quite different from each other's.
ReplyDeleteYes they do, and you are right it was Patty's!
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