Well, I do.
It happened immediately following a post in which I declared that I would be dropping out of sight for a while to concentrate on some actual writing.
You know. That novel that I've been going on and on about rather more than my actual activity with it has warranted.
And then Google hit me with the BoN. And I went off in the deep end. I dove right in, into the internets, and have barely come up for air since.
Still haven't learned to just stick to one metaphor I see. At least they are both water-related this time. Progress?
A lot of good has come from BoN. Lots of good friends and excellent comments, plenty of things I want to read with my morning cup of coffee, plenty of laughs, and plenty of seeing the world from someone else's perspective for a change. Plenty of realizations, although not all of them pleasant, and plenty of feeling loved and understood. Plenty of being able to show others that I feel for them, and that I understand.
Even if I've written about farts more than anyone ever should.
But I've only really opened the novel file a couple of times since BoN, and if I really get down and dirty honest here I'll have to admit that some of those times I opened the file so that I wouldn't have to fish it out of the folder called 'last month', or Zeus forbid, the one labeled 'last year'.
I have been thinking about it though. I have. And even done some editing, like cutting one voice out entirely and reducing the amount of words with one third. And after surviving the stroke I gave myself by pressing delete, I think I might have improved it.
Incidentally, the voice that I cut out was a voice that was written in the form of first a diary and then a blog. Now what does that say about me, Señor Freud?
I also realized at some point that I didn't actually like any of my characters. Really, they're all a bit messed up and even scary, and where was all that dark coming from? I'm not that dark.
I'm actually quite pleasant. If you weren't getting that from the blog. I am.
But now something wonderful has happened. It makes me feel drained, almost a little too drained to really be writing that much here, but it's wonderful.
No. I am not pregnant. Stop going there. Molly is, but I'm not. Didn't you read that thing about me not having children?
Well I shouldn't. Motherly pleasant I'm not.
A couple of days ago I started writing again. A new beginning. Of something different. That I love, and feel for.
Now join me either in A) a collective gasp followed by a happy "Nooooooh, Really?" I'd prefer it if you did that in a, like, valley girl accent. Like. Or B) you can just jump around from the joy that has been visited upon me. If that rocks your boat rather than the valley girl scenario.
I understand that people are different. I'm perceptive like that.
But please just be happy for me.
So now, while I'm wondering how to negotiate this new thing in my life, and how to integrate it into my existing one on the web, go read some of my personal favorites from my blogging reel, From before BoN. Way before. Like months.
Dude! Are you sure?
Heck yes.
There was that time I fell off the road.
There were quite a few occasions I had an interesting time with my maid. Like the first one, the one that was a little hard to follow, and the one that quit.
There was the apology for rely loving yuor bloog, while intoxicated.
There was that thing about where I come from.
There were some Zambia stories. Like being a bad expat, almost being swept off my feet, and partying in style.
There was my visit to the gynecologist.
And then there was that sweet one for the Hubs.
And some others, but I really should be writing already and I haven't even showered yet. Dang.
You can also always go gawk at my Flickr. There are seriously, like, at least 20 pictures on there. And they're all artsy fartsy. On account of me being versatile and shit.
Or click on the links on my sidebar and go read my friends.
I should only be a day or two.
Finnish hugs all around (i.e. a serious handshake with maximum possible distance between us)!
