There are a lot of different things I like about blogging--making fun of my husband in a public forum, getting loads of compliments about my child's looks from total and complete strangers, and the occasional piece of random, adoring fan mail come to mind. But my favorite thing about blogging, my absolute favorite thing, is the fact that I can paint this little life of mine however I so chose.
I tell you what I want to tell you.
I don't tell you what I don't want to tell you.
I guess it gives me a false sense of control. Keeping secrets from readers makes me feel like I have some grasp over my hectic and very unpredictable life. Hey, it's either that or Prozac--I'll take the blog. Less sexual side effects.
My sister, who has known me (in person) for 28 years, finds this whole blog thing to be absolutely frikking hilarious. Not the stories--she's been hearing garbage like that since I learned to talk. No no, she finds pure joy in the comments that say things like:
I'm having a party next weekend and I so want you could come, but I live in Ohio. You'd liven it up for sure.
You always makes me laugh. I'd love to go shopping together. That would be the best time ever!
Or her favorite:
I wish we were real life friends.
That last one gives her cramps from laughing so hard. Really, it does. Mostly because I'm a total and complete introvert--I hate parties, I have a hard time making new friends, and generally speaking, human beings of all makes and models cause my armpits to sweat like a high powered sprinkler system.
I guess you could describe me as a girl who's got a handful of close friends, an armful of acquaintances (who make me want to poo myself from the nerves), and hides from the remainder of the world's population.
Trust me, the last thing you need is to have me at your party. I fart when I'm nervous.
This is on my mind today for one distinct reason. This afternoon, in just two short hours, I'm having lunch with someone I've never met--someone who reads my blog. Oh. The. Horror. I'm sure she's great--I have no concerns about that end of the equation. It's the 'me sucking' part that makes this whole concept a little hard to swallow.
We're meeting up to attend a hearing at the Statehouse, not just for the hell of it--so that takes the edge off. At least we'll have something to talk about. I've already thought of a few conversation starters for the plentiful moments where I'll be stumped over what to say next. For example:
So, this building we're going to, do you think it will have a brick or stucco exterior?
Do you know if the chairs will be padded?
That sure is a big hill over there! Don't you think!?
Oh yeah, I'm totally full of ideas. I swear, if I wasn't operating a station wagon, 18 weeks pregnant, and a Mormon, I'd have a shot or three of whiskey to take the edge off. New people scare me. And this girl? You should see her facebook profile--blond hair, sunglasses, arms, legs, a little smirk on her face--extra, extra scary.
Linsday, thanks to you, I'm going to pee all over my driver's seat today. Can't wait to meet you.
So anyway, that's that. I enjoy blogging because I can paint myself in a false light and keep all kinds of secrets from all kinds of people.
And yes, you read that correctly. I'm not just getting fat.