Me and Mine

Monday, September 29, 2014
The Pretenders...
Tuesday, August 5, 2014
Stuff and things and writer's block.
I am supposed to be working on my book but I've hit the wall. It's not that I've run out of insight and embarrassing, self deprecating stories about myself...it's just finding the right way to organize them. I'm also trying to be sensitive to all the people in my life who deserve anonymity and even those who don't. Writing 'with a voice' is difficult. Also I'm battling feelings of self importance. I ask myself daily 'Does anyone even need to read this stuff? Will anyone truly care?' and then the worst question for any writer, 'Will this end up in a dollar store bin?'. (Shiver)
But then I meet people or see people who have read 'stuff' and they'll introduce me to family members like this, "Mom, this is girl I told you about. The one who should write a book." I'm both embarrassed and thrilled in these moments. The funny thing is, I didn't even make the creative writing team in 8th grade. I will almost certainly release my much anticipated 3rd book to the teacher who deemed me not good enough to work on the yearbook in September 1998, but also accompanied me to State finals for a writing competition in the spring of 1999.
Anyway, writers block that probably has a lot to do with the fact that I'm working a lot harder now. I switched up jobs and I'm loving my new job. I also loved my old job, well, I loved my coworkers but it was time for a change and it was much needed. We also moved this summer which was a huge undertaking that I never want to experience again. We moved a lot of stuff and things. I'm sick to death of stuff and things. And yet, I got a better job and moved into a bigger house to have more space for my 'stuff and things'. (Sigh)
I'm trying to live minimalist lifestyle with a yard sale personality.
Speaking of yard sales, Matt and I love to go to them. We used to go every weekend that the kids are at their others. We collect so much stuff and things. Almost our whole house is yard sale stuff and things. The worst, however, is when you get to one and there's a man and woman sitting in their lawn chairs while they watch you go around their garage and judge the 13 crap items they've laid out for you to choose from. It's fine to leave a yard sale with nothing as long as there are other people there to purchase. If you're the only people at the home, judging their things, it feels weird to just decide that their old crap isn't good enough to be your new crap and you just awkwardly saunter to your car. I even KNOW that they probably don't care but it's nearly painful for me to walk away from an empty yard sale with nothing. That's the worst.
The BEST are the ones with the happy old lady sisters who share your exact same style in corning dishware and are blowing it out cheap along side old tinted Pyrex serving ware. And your arms are full of new stuff that you love and won't be paying more than $7 for today and you all just laugh in the midst of your excitement over their stuff and things and their excitement for my $7 like you're old friends. These are the ones I bond with in 15 minutes and I have to resist hugging before I leave.
Staying on topic also seems to be an issue I'm having with my writing... I'll be back soon.
Wednesday, April 9, 2014
The Fast and Furious...
Tuesday, April 8, 2014
I can't let go of things...
Monday, March 31, 2014
Giving my kids back their childhood.
Friday, March 28, 2014
Wednesday, March 26, 2014
Things I shouldn't say.
I went through my midlife crisis when I turned 23. That will surprise many of you but turning 23 was hard for me. I remember laying in bed for a week with the shades drawn shut and leaving a super depressing voicemail greeting that made people stop by and check on me. I always appreciated my youth and started mourning it even at 15 years old.
But now, I'm 30. And F%*# it! That's what Matt has called this past year for me, 'The-F%*#-it-I'm-30' year. I really grew a pair in recent months and it's been nice to finally say the things that piss me off that I've hidden behind pleasantries for years before. And...there was a lot I needed to say.
All off this cumulated in me starting a book called 'Things I shouldn't say'. That's a working title, mind you, but it's pretty much accurate so far. And everyone is a little frightened by what the book will say. Only 2 people have read my first few chapters. One is my husband, who loves my writing and has always encouraged me but I can clearly see veiled concerned about his mother learning about MY first traumatic tampon experience. And there's a really awesome girl at work that I love, named Missy, who has read it. And her only advice was to think of more creative synonyms to express the sentiment of a boner. So far, things are going pretty well.
Writing has always been path since my 'sad teenage girl poem' days. (Remember those guys!? Shoot me, now.) But I've always been private about it. Some if it is still really embarrassing. At the request of many friends, I started this blog that as far as I can tell no one is reading and that's okay with me, fine, whatever.
It's a struggle for me to say things diplomatically and without wondering who I'm going to offend when I write each chapter. The one I've spent the most time on is a chapter called 'This one is going to piss my friends off.' I've rewritten it many times. I don't want to tick anyone off. But I want to say how I feel after years of being a people pleaser and doing what everyone else thought was best, I'm ready to just burst. And it's not against anyone. If anyone, my work is self-depreciating. Which is hilarious because it's so easy as I'm a super great target to poke fun. I mean, seriously people, I have messed up big. And it's hysterical.
Either way, part of this growing older thing is me being more honest with myself and with others. I mean, I'm 30. I'm sick of playing by everyone's rules and living in the box. If I have to watch my hair turn gray strand, by strand, then I'm going to do it with laughter and have fun. I don't think anyone should get a wrinkle before they decide what they want to be when they grow up, but that is the curse of time. And so much has been wasted and we only get to be here once.
And I want to write this book. So I'm going to.