Just A Spoonful Of Smack-Talk.
So. Remember last Friday when I was all complainy and introspective and basically asked you to figure out my life?
First, I’d just like to say that I’m sorry about that. It’s like that time when you were nineteen and split a bottle of Parrot Bay with a couple of friends before drinking a few solo cups’ worth of beer at a frat party and then indulging in champagne and a hot tub at the after party and then, before you know it, you’re taking a 3 a.m. shower with the guy you swore you’d never talk to again and waking up in the morning with a whole lot of questions and a world full of regret.
That’s just me?
The point is, it’s not up to you to solve my problems.
And thank God for that, because you guys are kind of mean:
I mean, six of you told me to stop being whiny. Six! I threw that answer in there for shits and giggles, and here six of you are, tough-loving the crap out of me.
It’s okay, though. I needed the virtual slap in the face. Apparently spoonfuls of sugar are for old-timey, knee-sock wearing, British society children with kickass nannies — not twenty-first century, freelancing bloggers. (Interesting side note: 100 years ago, probably no one would have understood the last two words of that sentence.) Anyway.
My second point: Thank you. I actually started this blog almost four years ago, with the intention of turning it into a travel blog when we got stationed overseas. But then… we all know how that didn’t turn out. Twice. So I started treating this as more of an online diary and venting mechanism, of sorts. I take it as far as I’m un-anonymously willing to go — exposing most of my warts, but still reserving the ugliest for the privacy of my own shower. And sometimes I’ve felt like that’s been a mistake. Like maybe I should’ve had more of a plan and maybe some diagrams and editorial schedules and stuff to make this place run smoothly, but then here’s what your comments on that post made me realize:
In life, if we live as genuinely as we can, we are going to attract the people we need.
Sincerity may not bring wealth. It may not bring success. And there’s actually a very real possibility that exposing those warts may even get you exiled on Moloka’i. (Which, okay, might not be such a horrible thing today, but 100-ish years ago was no cakewalk.)
It’s a lot easier than maintaining a fancy facade.
And spending time with people who don’t really know us.
Just to do things we don’t really enjoy.
While I may experiment here and there with some different types of posts or series, and I might try to knock an extra post out each week, fear not. I’m still going to be me.
And according to you, that’s probably okay.