First love


In the heart and the mind of a writer there is a first love ,that is that book or writer that made you love writing. It could be someone extremely famous like Stephen King , Jane Austen, probably for most of us writers, it’s someone that we read when we  were younger than the Jane Austens attract like Beverly Cleary, or RL Stine.

But somewhere  in our hearts or in our minds that  first love  holds a place that no one else will ever hold. I’d like to celebrate today first love. I’d like to think about I ever read voraciously and without any facade. I remember reading books like are you there god it’s me Margaret, or freckle juice and enjoying those books. Feeling like I was a part of something other. .I was a smart girl. I was a reader. Then I read a book called then again, maybe I won’t by Judy Blume. That made me want to be a writer, but it was the book that made me feel like my kind of writing was acceptable. Because and then again, maybe I won’t from the perspective of a 10 or 11 year old me anyway was very personal. The main character was a young boy whose father suddenly found himself wealthy and so the boy suddenly finds himself wealthy. At the same time he also finds himself going through what everybody goes through when they are on the cusp of not necessarily adulthood but the next transition between childhood and not childhood. I remember reading this book at every possible moment of the day. I remember not going outside and I grew up in the air when we went outside. I remember friends and phone calls and everything else in this book. It was definitely a first love kind of thing because all these years later I am first of all still looking fondly upon this book and almost afraid to think about the book itself too closely. I don’t want to ruin what we have together with other words. So sweetly think of that boy, his issues with his parents and his masturbatory dream and even now. Having read this book in well over 20 years I still think it’s a story, never mind the writing and I don’t remember the writing well enough to even begin to critique it, but the story at the very least which still resonate with a lot of people. So I wanted to thank Judy Blume, and all the people write the books that make a person realize the creativity is not only ok but it is something to be proud.For that I am ever grateful.

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Send in the Clowns


This song means a lot to me as I grow up and grow older . So many things  in my life , not just men but jobs, friends, thoughts, actions  , feel like they fall in this category . This why didn’t I realize at the time what I had .  Only to realize that the recapture of that thing , place , person or action is outside of your ability. You can not get the one that got away.

There are a lot of these for me , some because I truly didn’t see the merit on them and for those I can only sigh and move on but the ones that hurt are the ones that I missed out on because I was too  chickenshit it make a move . I am never proud of myself when I  miss out on something because  I decided to be a chickenshit . I would rather fail miserably  in trying than be in fear. I would like to try and fail beautifully.

In the spirit of that I have decided to sing today. You are free to listen or not to listen ( like you didn’t know that , right?) but understand that I am singing accapella and I did not do another take . I am a little pitchy at times I think but I am also woman enough today to sing one of my favorite songs to you and free of change .

http://youtu.be/TU8d7SBwswI

This year has not been easy and it is only May , but then again this year has not been easy and it is already May . I am not going to wallow in the many yesterdays, the could have beens , the should have beens. I am going to sing. and I am going to dance . I am going to move forward and laugh . Topple , roll , squeak my red nose and freak some people out . In short I am going to embrace the fact that I may be a clown. But after I go forward I will never let fear make me a clown again .

I love being a girl


Girl, You'll Be a Woman Soon

Girl, You’ll Be a Woman Soon (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

I really do … I know , please , my feminist sisters don’t jump down my throat , yes I am a woman but I am sorry I love being a girl. Not a female. Not a woman. A girl. I love the feminine loveliness, the soft, the sweet. I love being a female , yes , but when I get ready  and have the makeup and the hair , cutsie poo and the sexy sensual beautiful things that I have and look in the mirror and I am truly feeling myself , I think , I love being a girl.

 

My proclamation is just that. I want to be allowed to be happy that I am a girl. I have a male friend that tries to throw lugs about women because of his own insecurities, about not having to do his hair, or not having to wear makeup. For the record, there are many men that are girls as well, and I am not just talking about being gay. Usher, the metro-sexual, and just your plain old pretty boys. And there are women that just don’t wear makeup and girlie clothes. SO… rude statement naturalized … but for those of us , like myself, who enjoy it , I also counter that I am not stuck with the woman I wake up to . I can sometimes suffer insomnia. When you go to sleep at 4 to wake up at 6, the women in the mirror at 6 looks like … how do I say this … death warmed over, twice.  When I walk out to people saying “you look rested”, ha-ha, I win!

 

I am a woman, smart, articulate, funny… umm…modest. I am also a girl, bubbly, and silly, unbearably cute …ummm…modest. Both are sides to me. They are parts that make me, me. They are the things that captivate those who know me into believing that the insecure pile of jello that I can be is this confidant grown up finally, and giving up my girl would not help, but hinder that.  If I had to stop having a crush on Tom Hardy, if I had to never go see another  Comic book movie alone ( yes I said alone ) , If I had to stop squealing when something made me really happy I would be diminished , my I would be smaller.

 

I think sometimes we are so quick to cast off out child self, not childish but child self, that we forget how to play, how to fun, how to dance like no one is watching, how to love a celebrity like we know them (not the crazy fanatic thing where we carve their names into our body, that is a sick child self and needs riddelin) just because they are awesome, and we lose the joy that was once inherent to our very nature. I realize that my girl and I are codependent as hell, we need each other. She lets me write and I let her scream for joy in the middle of the store  when she finds out Kelsey Grammar is playing Beast , my favorite X men character of all, in the middle of a store ( true story) .

 

I leave this long rambling prose with the following. Find your inner girl, or boy. I suggest Lego’s, they freaking LOVE Lego’s.