The Inside of Why

Recently, I took some serious criticism for this blog. Beyond thinking, well, thank all that is holy that this person missed out on some of the stories blogger wiped out last year, I was stunned. For a number of reasons, but primarily because the criticism came from a perfect stranger who was bold enough to send me an email saying, I thought you'd be nice to know but then I read your blog and was entertained but figure it's not good to know you. I told a friend about it and she suggested that maybe he was afraid to know me in case he gave me reason to add him to my blog so he thought it best to not know me. Yeah, it took me a second to wrap my mind around it too. Ironically, here I am starting a blog with him. So, to the jackass who made me write this...your plan backfired.

But this also made me consider-does this blog make me a horrible person unworthy of being known by judgmental idiots who don't know who I am from Eve? After struggling to find that answer for approximately seven and a half seconds I came to the conclusion that I don't want to be known by judgmental idiots who will base their opinion of my on a couple of dozen snippets from horrible moments in my life. So in the end it all works out.

I've been blessed with some decent friends who hold very little against me. I'm insightful enough to know who those people are and what events triggered their...umm...stamp of disapproval. Some of those people I realized were there only recently. I've been even more blessed by unbelievable friends and family who hold nothing against me and in fact love me knowing all of my quirks and shortcomings and even my horribly unusual string of bad luck, bad happenings, and general clumsiness. These people, even knowing that sometimes by sheer asinine willingness to turn a blind eye to something that should be ridiculously obvious to normal people, I throw my arms open, smile in greeting, and all but scream, 'unfortunate event, person, or words, take me now!', love me anyway. They smile with me, cry with me, get mad with me, plot insane retribution on...errr...judgmental idiots...or you know, jackasses who hurt my feelings. They laugh with me, they laugh at me (and for good reason too, if I had to stand witness to some of my shenanigans, I'd laugh at me too). They accept me...even in times when I appear to be begging for my downfall—'he peed himself in the theater on your first date you say? And you felt the need to talk to him again, why?', 'you thought standing on a rolling chair on tip toe and reaching for something even an imbecile could see was still 700 feet out of your reach was a good idea why??'. They accept me even when I catch myself midway but can't stop the freight train from collision--'Wanna rub my ra(oh shit I'm doing it again)ck?' or laying across a pile of bookshelves to measure, with my body, whether one will fit in my car realizing (seconds too late) that I'm going to have to explain why I know that I fit there. Those are the people I'm grateful for everyday. Those are the people that would leave my life a vast, empty, miserable darkness if I hadn't been touched by them. Those are the people who matter everyday. Those are the people who I could give the world to and still feel I hadn't given enough.

The reason I share this? I don't know entirely. In part, because of some idiot, I feel that I need to explain that while I may write about the ridiculousness of a day or a date (or repeated ridiculous days or dates), that these writings are only a glimpse of who I am. And it's my own personal therapy. There's so much turmoil in normal everyday life that if I were to not laugh about the insanity that follows me as often as not, if I were to not get it out of me, I think it would eat me alive and make me an angry miserable black spot that was drawn by some angry kid on the sunshine another kid drew just to see her cry. One way or the other, when all is said and done, I write about what doesn't matter beyond the initial shock or whatever is not quite sadness but definitely not happiness. I write about what have been first or second (and last) dates or some crazy incidents that just doesn't happen to normal people. I get it out of me so I can laugh at it.

What you should notice though is that even though I've dated long term, you won't see those people mentioned here. There may come a time that I can pick certain times that I when I laugh about them I feel like I can get them out of me. There may not. The people that have been around for more than a couple of days...they matter or have in the past. There was or wasn't brutal pain left in their wake. In some way or another, I've managed to deal with a wide variety of people with various addictions. I've dealt with cheaters and abusers. I've dealt with my own personal and medical problems. But that's the stuff that I don't throw in here. The stuff that matters, the people that matter or have mattered, that's the stuff I don't share with total strangers. The stuff I write about here is a bump in the road. Something to remind me that as horrified as I've been by some of the people I've encountered and as much as I'd like to hide in a hole because of some of the situations I've found myself in, I've still managed to come out unbroken, and can look at it with humor rather than misery. When it comes down to it, that is what matters to me.

So, for anyone out there who might need to be appalled or offended by the fact that I'm writing about something you know nothing about and choose to not want to know me based on this, I'm sad for you. First of all, you take life far too seriously. We're all in this world to move beyond it, we may as well laugh while we're here. Secondly, for all that is wrong with me, I pretty much rock. You're missing out. :)