She’s Going the Distance
03/11/2006
I’ve never been the girl to squeeze into a pair of jeans that were too tight (I’m all about comfort). Well, that’s a bit of a lie. When I was in junior high, the jeans had to be so tight that you had to get someone else to zip them while you laid down on the bed. Then you had to roll your beached-whale ass off the bed. But now, I want to be able to breathe (and prevent internal organs from being forever shifted under my lungs).
Maverick: Requesting permission for flyby.
Air Boss Johnson: That’s a negative ghostrider, the pattern is full.
I feel jingle jangle (I got spurs that jingle, jangle, jingle; As I go ridin’ merrily along; And they sing, ‘Away, too glad, you’re single’; And that song ain’t so very far from wrong). There’s been conversation (Bruce) regarding the schism between the writer and the person. I, (the Some Girl I, you understand not the real I, which I recently explained that Some Girl is entirely comprised of me while Some Girl only makes up a little piece of me), am “intimidating” and “don’t suffer fools gladly,” which is certainly ages away from what I thought I was. Having already had this conversation (several times over) I am not really looking for confirmation of what I’ve already heard. But I think I need to be a kinder gentler Some Girl.
Cougar: I’m holding on too tight. I’ve lost the edge. I’m sorry, sir.
Holding the difference between persona and person was easier when I wasn’t so content. I was going to use the word “happy” instead of content, but to be completely accurate, I was neither unhappy nor discontent. Before being what it was, I was happy and content with life, love and the pursuit of happiness. Bruce asked if I would consider myself a happy person in a general sense. I think that in both the general and the issue specific sense I am (was) happy. The sarcastic ready-willing-and-able bitch on wheels really only lives in my head. Publicly I am all smiles and sunshine (until you get me hammered and then I start bashing the poorly dressed).
Maverick: [spots Charlie for the first time] She’s lost that loving feeling.
Goose: She’s lo…
[catches up]
Goose: No she hasn’t.
Maverick: Yes she has.
Goose: [objecting] She’s not lost that lo…
Maverick: Goose, she’s lost it man.
[walks off]
Goose: [to Mav] Come on!
[to himself]
Goose: Aw sh… I hate it when she does that.
Unfortunately this is where I tell you that the sunshine and happiness has become Kudzu that crept through the crevices between she and I. I am having considerable angst at the idea of continuing on as Some Girl but without the therapeutic release allowed here I worry that I will be hemmed in. Without the edge though (see above), I have a hard time writing anything worth writing (I refuse to be a crappy blogger writing about what I ate for dinner).
(No trophy, no flowers, no flash bulbs, no wine.; He’s haunted by something he cannot define.; Bowel shaking earthquakes of doubt and remorse,; Assail him, impale him with monster truck force.; In his mind he’s still driving, still making the grade.; She’s hoping time that her memories will fade,; Cause he’s racing and pacing and plotting the course,; He’s fighting and biting and riding on his horse.)
I guess this was a long-winded way of saying I have a touch of writer’s block and I am blaming it all on Bruce.
Next entry: Parting is such sweet sorrow
Previous entry: Optimistic linger
I’m blaming my writer’s block on Bruce, too. Why not?
Um… I don’t recall having to get you drunk before fashion bashing started. And there is nothing wrong with writing about what you had for dinner. I write about the mundane details of my life all the time. Who cares what your reading public wants to read. If the blog is about your emotional release or whatever, then use it for YOU.
Of course, maybe that’s why I only have like four readers.
Blaming Bruce is kind of my gimme. He and I try to find things throughout our day to blame on each other. “It’s your fault it’s raining.” “It’s your fault that I forgot my running sneakers.” “It’s your fault that I laugh at funerals.”
Okay, I totally made that last one up, but you get the point.
And yet, I was being a bit serious. Just a little bit. I wrote about dating disasters and excessive drinking (which may be seen again this week with the Big Irish Day coming up on Friday). Bruce has altered these occurrences (I think he would be a bit put-out if I continued to date).
I think it’s more of a matter of finding a new voice. Today at work I had an IM conversation, which kind of made me realize why I am having a difficulty with this. Maintaining my anonymity, which is very important, means that there are certain things that I don’t blog. The separation, while very necessary, impeded a bit of the creative flow.
Some time and thought are all that are needed for me to find my new groove and get a vein going again.
And in case anyone thought I was upset in the post, (which come to find out, a lot of people think I am upset in the post) I am not. Maybe I was too convoluted, but the point was that I am lacking in angst. Lacking in angst, while not so good for Some Girl and writing, is great for me.
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