Why I Ramble On...
When I started this blog in 2007, at first it just started as a way to tell stories, then a way to explore my past, then a way to explore my crazy and shut the Voices down... now it's kind of an old friend. People still read... not as much as at my peak, but it's OK. I looked at my stats when I logged in just now and I've got over 740 posts here, and have been writing pretty consistently for almost 3 years. That's pretty friggin' cool, if I do say so myself. Most folks who started with me or because of me or even who were there before me have long since fell off. I think the longest I've ever gone without writing anything is maybe 3 weeks. And I managed that one month to write every day.
What I like about writing here, as opposed to writing in a diary that no one ever sees is that anyone who cares to know anything about me can find out all about me here, get the "backstory" so to speak. It saves a lot of time. Even if I'd started out pretending to someone, or even if I was pretending here that I had it all together, anyone really reading this would soon figure out um, NOT. There's good and bad to being this exposed... and I've learned through trial and error not to direct just any old person over here. Some folk plain take advantage. I only told BigMan I even WROTE a blog last week. And I still haven't invited him to read it. Don't know that he's found it--he may have but he's not quite as stalker-ish as I am.
And I don't really care if he did... I don't think he'd really find anything here I haven't already told him about--even about the Scrub. The only thing BigMan may have issue with is my ambiguity about him, especially in the beginning. But honey, in case you do read this... I'm pretty much settled on you now. There was that period of the "White Tails Flashing" but lately I don't feel much like running. No doubt there's times you really annoy the crap out of me but I can tell by the way your nostrils flare that I get under your skin, too. Like the other night when I was WAY late for that cocktail thing. You were pretty ticked. And I was sorry... and it really wasn't my fault cuz I don't know the evening bus schedule off The Rock and miscalculated. Plus, I HAD to burn that CD or I would have HAD to come home. See, at least I was able to go home with you. But I'll try to be better... I like you enough to try.
Another reason I like writing here instead of other places is... I am held accountable. I have to be consistent with myself. If I decide that I'm going to change perspectives or rethink something or re-form an opinion, I have to first come back here, find what I wrote, and try to figure out why my opinion or perspective has changed.
If I write about loyalty or honesty or my feelings about a person or a subject, I can't very well slide on myself... It's here in black and white for all the world to see--and for me too. I use this blog to call myself on shit. But I like that, like being able to call myself out. I think that in the past few years I have grown an awful lot although my life is still in flux, but I'm pretty consistently who I am.
At least I think I am. I'd certainly like to think so. But I can go check back to day one and see...
This week I've been trying to knock stuff out, clear the decks. I'm having foot surgery Monday morning. I have a nasty old bunion on my left toe, which really escalated it's development in the past few years. I really don't think it's the shoes I wear... I have LONG since given up stilettos. The Podiatrist I found (a board-certified one in the City) said that bunions are really hereditary and caused by several things; one leg being longer than the other and so the longer leg compensates and throws off your balance, or maybe your toes don't have all the bones they're supposed to, like my two baby toes. Each toe has three bones in in... my baby toes only have two. How's that for weird?
The foot started to hurt--it SUCKS when I wear shoes--so I decided while I have no job and have medicaid, let me go take care of it (and I say again... low budget healthcare SUCKS ASS). Get my sexy foot back. There's not a whole lot of body parts of mine that I like... my boobs used to be way bigger than the rest of me causing me much grief; I never liked my ass cuz it was low, I have a long torso/short legs, a big face, even bigger head. But I always liked my feet. Wasn't crazy about the big bump growing there, and even less crazy about the fact that it actually hurt. Pain is annoying; it gets in the way. So... I'm getting it fixed.
...wow that was spaghetti-like, even for me...
Back to the original topic.
When major shit happens to me, I ruminate over it a loooooong time. So the Big Burn is now over a week old, going on two, and I'm still mulling the whole thing over. And there are moments I still rage inside. But mostly it's kind of a dull burn, like two-day old sunburn. Sometimes I get a little annoyed with myself that I even still care, but then on the other hand, caring about shit is what makes me me. Cuz I think about how I feel, then, WHY I feel the way I do about specific things, what I DON'T care about in the situation, try to accept the parts that are acceptable, decide what I'm going to do about the parts that aren't. Then I look at the things in my life--the backstory--that make me the person I am, and analyze whether or not the "backstory" has an influence over how I'm feeling. Then I try to figure out, well, if I had grown up ANOTHER way or in other circumstances, would I still feel what I feel now? Are my circumstances particular or general? And if I were someone else, would I feel the same way?
Really. I really DO think all that stuff.
It's like following a tree branch... I analyze and explore every great branch down to the smaller branches right out to the twig on the branch tip, look at the leaves... are they different from other leaves? I used to get lost in all that thinking, but through time I've learned how to pull myself back to examine the main trunk of the issue. Then, I may even go exploring the roots... but I've learned to bring it back to the tap root.
And after I've done all that thinking, then I can finally let whatever it is go... compile the data and file it under "ABC" in my brain, linking categories. So if the situation/question/problem/whatever comes up again, either with me or someone else, I compare what's going on with everything I've already stored in my head.
It's very exhausting.
But way useful.
I make a point of noticing details... gestures, facial expressions, language ticks. I go on gut feelings. I've learned not to dismiss anything anymore. The one thing you failed to pick up on is guaranteed to be the ONE thing that smacks you in the ass.
The problem is though, the older I get the more I think I'm running out of scratch disk space on the old hard drive... but what to let go/erase/delete???
Yet another reason I like writing on the blog. I don't have to remember quite as much. And it's easily searchable. Ever try going through an old diary?
What I like about writing here, as opposed to writing in a diary that no one ever sees is that anyone who cares to know anything about me can find out all about me here, get the "backstory" so to speak. It saves a lot of time. Even if I'd started out pretending to someone, or even if I was pretending here that I had it all together, anyone really reading this would soon figure out um, NOT. There's good and bad to being this exposed... and I've learned through trial and error not to direct just any old person over here. Some folk plain take advantage. I only told BigMan I even WROTE a blog last week. And I still haven't invited him to read it. Don't know that he's found it--he may have but he's not quite as stalker-ish as I am.
And I don't really care if he did... I don't think he'd really find anything here I haven't already told him about--even about the Scrub. The only thing BigMan may have issue with is my ambiguity about him, especially in the beginning. But honey, in case you do read this... I'm pretty much settled on you now. There was that period of the "White Tails Flashing" but lately I don't feel much like running. No doubt there's times you really annoy the crap out of me but I can tell by the way your nostrils flare that I get under your skin, too. Like the other night when I was WAY late for that cocktail thing. You were pretty ticked. And I was sorry... and it really wasn't my fault cuz I don't know the evening bus schedule off The Rock and miscalculated. Plus, I HAD to burn that CD or I would have HAD to come home. See, at least I was able to go home with you. But I'll try to be better... I like you enough to try.
Another reason I like writing here instead of other places is... I am held accountable. I have to be consistent with myself. If I decide that I'm going to change perspectives or rethink something or re-form an opinion, I have to first come back here, find what I wrote, and try to figure out why my opinion or perspective has changed.
If I write about loyalty or honesty or my feelings about a person or a subject, I can't very well slide on myself... It's here in black and white for all the world to see--and for me too. I use this blog to call myself on shit. But I like that, like being able to call myself out. I think that in the past few years I have grown an awful lot although my life is still in flux, but I'm pretty consistently who I am.
At least I think I am. I'd certainly like to think so. But I can go check back to day one and see...
This week I've been trying to knock stuff out, clear the decks. I'm having foot surgery Monday morning. I have a nasty old bunion on my left toe, which really escalated it's development in the past few years. I really don't think it's the shoes I wear... I have LONG since given up stilettos. The Podiatrist I found (a board-certified one in the City) said that bunions are really hereditary and caused by several things; one leg being longer than the other and so the longer leg compensates and throws off your balance, or maybe your toes don't have all the bones they're supposed to, like my two baby toes. Each toe has three bones in in... my baby toes only have two. How's that for weird?
The foot started to hurt--it SUCKS when I wear shoes--so I decided while I have no job and have medicaid, let me go take care of it (and I say again... low budget healthcare SUCKS ASS). Get my sexy foot back. There's not a whole lot of body parts of mine that I like... my boobs used to be way bigger than the rest of me causing me much grief; I never liked my ass cuz it was low, I have a long torso/short legs, a big face, even bigger head. But I always liked my feet. Wasn't crazy about the big bump growing there, and even less crazy about the fact that it actually hurt. Pain is annoying; it gets in the way. So... I'm getting it fixed.
...wow that was spaghetti-like, even for me...
Back to the original topic.
When major shit happens to me, I ruminate over it a loooooong time. So the Big Burn is now over a week old, going on two, and I'm still mulling the whole thing over. And there are moments I still rage inside. But mostly it's kind of a dull burn, like two-day old sunburn. Sometimes I get a little annoyed with myself that I even still care, but then on the other hand, caring about shit is what makes me me. Cuz I think about how I feel, then, WHY I feel the way I do about specific things, what I DON'T care about in the situation, try to accept the parts that are acceptable, decide what I'm going to do about the parts that aren't. Then I look at the things in my life--the backstory--that make me the person I am, and analyze whether or not the "backstory" has an influence over how I'm feeling. Then I try to figure out, well, if I had grown up ANOTHER way or in other circumstances, would I still feel what I feel now? Are my circumstances particular or general? And if I were someone else, would I feel the same way?
Really. I really DO think all that stuff.
It's like following a tree branch... I analyze and explore every great branch down to the smaller branches right out to the twig on the branch tip, look at the leaves... are they different from other leaves? I used to get lost in all that thinking, but through time I've learned how to pull myself back to examine the main trunk of the issue. Then, I may even go exploring the roots... but I've learned to bring it back to the tap root.
And after I've done all that thinking, then I can finally let whatever it is go... compile the data and file it under "ABC" in my brain, linking categories. So if the situation/question/problem/whatever comes up again, either with me or someone else, I compare what's going on with everything I've already stored in my head.
It's very exhausting.
But way useful.
I make a point of noticing details... gestures, facial expressions, language ticks. I go on gut feelings. I've learned not to dismiss anything anymore. The one thing you failed to pick up on is guaranteed to be the ONE thing that smacks you in the ass.
The problem is though, the older I get the more I think I'm running out of scratch disk space on the old hard drive... but what to let go/erase/delete???
Yet another reason I like writing on the blog. I don't have to remember quite as much. And it's easily searchable. Ever try going through an old diary?
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