I will be on the road on Thursday. Went to beautiful St. Augustine today, and going to Ft. Myers tomorrow. Won’t be back till late. Here’s a re-post of an earlier blog. Thanks
Oh, the millions of new bloggers and blogs that will start today. Everyone scrambling to make up for all the bad shit they did in 2009 by saying that they would make amends by putting all their good intentions down in a blog for all the world to see.
That of course, is pretty “high self thinking”. That was a grandma word from my childhood. If you thought you were better than someone, or thought that you could do things that no one else could do….you were high self thinking. And to a certain extent, anyone that does this kind of thing has a touch of that very trait. Why else would we put all of this out on the internet for everyone who cares to; to read? Why not put it in a journal? The old fashioned kind. Like we used to do as a little girls. Our diaries and such. When you felt like you were to grown up for a diary any more, and you got tired of ‘accidentally” letting it get found by someone so that some drama could ensue….we moved onto a journal. It had to be the perfect kind of notebook. Not the kind that we did homework in, heck no. The old kind that didn’t have any binder holes and the paper was bound to the covers. They were mostly blue I think with speckles of some kind on the front.
Well, anyway, the internet came, and with it, a certain kind of anonymity. Or at least we thought so at first. We thought that by making a fictitious screen name that we were protected. Oh well…when that bubble was burst, and we all began to realize that nothing on the web is safe, one of two thing happened. Some erased all that they could hope to cover their tracks, and others went full steam ahead. Proceeding into the “virtual” world as though they were some kind of authority on this subject or that subject. Assuming that they would amass a following of readers eager to hang on their every word… What a joke. Then there are people like me. I like to write. I’m not good enough at it to make a real living at it, but I still like to do it. Like singing karaoke in bars. It takes alcohol to get me to do it. I think I have a decent voice (unless the other drunks were lying to me) and I enjoy pushing myself to do it. But I also hope that I won’t make such a fool of myself that people will stuff their ears full of cocktail napkins to stop the bleeding. Or that the thought of me singing again causes some bars to go out of business from patrons staying away….LOL
Writing is like that. I love to do it. But not on such a regular basis that I could make a living out of it. In high school I was the kid that wrote a column in the school newspaper. But it was always a sarcastic piece putting down all the gooey, sappy praise heaped on the popular kids in school. It was my mission to keep is all even….and hating school as much as I did. I see that this was wrong now, but I had a pretty intense adolescence. No kind of abuse, just the self loathing abuse that most teenagers put themselves through for a time while waiting to stop being a kid and waiting for the rights and privileges of adulthood. I got over most of that. Although I will still admit to a sick kind of pleasure that I get from toppling some of these self proclaimed experts from the pedestals that they put themselves on. Their claims to be experts on things that can never have experts. Lifestyles, and moral judgements of others. Behaviors of the human species can never be categorized and put into tiny little boxes with labels. And those that say they are the “voice” for this or that lifestyle don’t have a clue. And sometimes, they need to have that pointed out to them. That’s my job. Hmmmm does that make me an expert on it? LOL Not !!!