Tuesday, March 6, 2012

I wish I had a cherry pie.

Jimi came home a few months back with a set of books about John Carter - some fantasy series written in the early 1910s.  Then there came the trailers and previews on TV; obviously, Jimi can predict Hollywood.

tosh.O is hilarious and offensive and horrible and awesome all at the same time.  I feel like this describes Drunk Natalie a lot of the time, too, but not at all on the same plane.  Unless someone wants to pay me for that shit.

Jimi's bowwowing with his amped up ukulele.  Decipher that shit. Bowwowowowbowwooowwwowwwowowowowbow...

I feel an immediate desire to delete everything I post on Facebook, for fear that I've made myself sound like an idiot.  I'm getting real close to feeling that way about my words here, but I'm working through it by writing the dumbest random shit that comes into my head.  THIS IS ME.  This is all I've got.  Some days are better than others.

I feel like that a lot after social gatherings, too.  The morning after a party inevitably begins with me waking and groggily piecing together the night before, focusing on my self-defined faux pas and social missteps and missed verbal cues and awkward statements and embarrassing interruptions of the general flow.  I wake up after a party and wonder why anyone likes me at all, and then I'm ashamed until I remember something I did worse at a previous gathering that they've apparently forgiven me for and then I move on and avoid going out until I absolutely have to because it's been so long and when I see my friends again they tell me how much they miss me and how much they love it when I come out and I feel so awesome and good and I wonder why I don't go out more...

I just finished reading a very feminist book, and it's shifting my perceptions of the men around me.  It's also made me furious with the Mormon church for their despicable anti-Equal Rights Amendment movement during the late 70s.  (Picture Prop 8, but nationwide, and geared toward denying equal rights to women rather than homosexuals.)  I look around and see the same battle for equality still being waged today, 30+ years later, and I'm shocked and ashamed and shaken to my very core.  It's like all the things they taught me in school were complete bullshit.

Jimi's now using the ukulele to mimick Purina jingles.  I was just starting to get riled up, and here he comes with that.

I'm getting close to 700 blog entries.  Whoa.  A lot of bloggers I read celebrate blog birthdays and such - I don't remember when I started this blog exactly - 2007, maybe?  2006?  My original blog was one I started on LouisvilleMojo - I poured my heart out there for years.  And then my ex-husband hacked that shit and deleted it all.  I'm not even making that up.  Anyhow, nearly 700 entries.  I went back and found a cache of drafts from late December that reek of sad.  Better to come across them on this side.

I used to blog a lot, about everything, all the time.  And then I became conscious that other people are reading this sometimes, people I know in real life or may one day hope to meet.  And it scared me for a minute, the fear that they would judge me based on what they read here - the highs, the lows, the bliss, the tragedy, the language, the judgements, the fears, the bitching, the politics, the opinions.  Sometimes I post things and feel an immediate need to delete them for fear that I've made myself sound like an idiot, but I'm starting to remember that's perfectly fine.  THIS IS ME.  This is all I've got.  Some days are better than others.

1 comment:

Please don't make me cry.


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