Uplift

Yesterday morning, a customer whom I learned is a writer stepped into my store and was overjoyed and anxious.  I had to help her find something to wear for a tv interview.  She was still working out the details but we found a few pieces she felt happy with and was overwhelmed saying, 'This kind of stuff doesn't happen to writers!'  I was so genuinely happy for her.  I don't think I could handle something on such a grand scale like that!  At least not at this point in my recovery and rehabilitation.

As I plan for my twenty year high school reunion next month, I find myself very reflective.  I'm always thinking, obviously, but many things have been weighing very, very heavy on my mind.  Some rumors have circulated regarding my high school boyfriend.  We had a very turbulent relationship, filled with physical and sexual violence, rage and mania and depression.  I was too young to process everything that went down, but it has remained with me for so many years later.  I'm using different therapies to resolve the inner turmoil, but if the rumor is indeed true, I want to build a bridge to connect and forgive.  It would heal me to face him and sit together and sing Redemption Song together.

On the notion of gossip, which I have brought up in the past, i understand that I have shared quite a bit in this blog and therefore it's subject to scrutiny.  Here's the thing:  I write because I need to.  When I write, I explore.  I discover.  I reflect.  I learn.  I am by far not a perfect person and I'm going to make mistakes.  But writing my way through the complications, traumas, misunderstandings and mysteries of my life has helped me.  I'm a communicator first and foremost.  Have I been too open?  Perhaps.  But it is one of the loveliest parts of being human, in my mind, to share our experiences with one another.

Digital Bohemian

In the small talk at work, our relation to social media is apparent in our daily conversations.  I am not Facebook friends with my staff for professional purposes, except to like their creative pages.  I was finally urged to join Pinterest and ohmygoodness, it's silly fun.  I haven't really gotten too involved just yet, but one of my coworkers told me I'm a DIgital Bohemian and it made me giggle.  

In the past, I've participated in forums where people weren't exactly too kind, but sometimes an interesting conversation would pop up.  In my first foray into the internet, I befriended a group of gals on a musician's message board and who would have thunk we'd be in touch all these years later?  It's really quite remarkable that I've felt more bonded to strangers on the internet at times than I have with real life folks.  Perhaps it's the old fashioned written word that I love so well.  In college I had a group of really funny guy friends who were all talented writers and we used to write each other letters pretending we were living in the Civil War era.  We were all so funny and imaginative back then...I miss those friends.

So, having said that, I know I have a few readers here.  Why not comment every so often?  Why so voyeuristic?  I appreciate sincere human interaction, you know.  I wonder sometimes....

Endeavors

I beat myself up over not following through on all the endeavors I have going on.  Sorry if I've disappointed people with my lack of genius masterpiece submissions.  But not everyone's got it, n'est-ce pas?  Not everyone can create a masterpiece.  Some people just create as an outlet during mania and depression, but we aren't talking about mental illness in June, right?  Right.  Moving on.

As an admirer of arts of all kinds, I never feel alone when I can connect to something that finds its way into my life, either audibly or visually.  I love finding obscure foreign and old movies at the library.  I just watched a riveting, harrowing tale called The Patience Stone, where a young Afghani woman turns to her comatose husband with a bullet in his neck to reveal all of her secrets.  Wow, what an ending.  I'll have to find the book and see how it compares.

Still, I'm seeking that community again.  I'm slowly building.  I'm slowly reaching out again after years of solitude.  I've got some friends on the dance floor.  That's a start.  I've got some new neighbors to meet.  Is there that same sense of community online as well?  There can be, in the right place.  I still find the written word to be wonderfully old-fashioned.  If I set some sort of thematic goal in this blog perhaps I could participate in the blogosphere.  But it is exactly what it is.  J'y pense et puis j'oublie.  Literally, I think about it then I forget.  This strange little portal to my thoughts is something that helps me organize my thinking.  I have loads of journals written of this crap.    It's a bit more fun to put one out here instead.  Who would have thunk blogging would be a thing?

All Things Remarkable

While I was walking home from the neighborhood K-Mart last night with a large $5 Little Caesar's pepperoni pizza, cell phone in hand talking to my husband, I had an idea.

I am going to try and find one thing Remarkable each day.

If I can find one thing Remarkable each day then perhaps my world will be a more interesting place.

This may sound uninspired and boring to those of you dear readers who lead very exciting lives, but for me it is a dire attempt to maintain the most grounded sense of adventure possible.

I of course, cannot change the name of this already-titled blog. But come on, it's a Jacques Dutronc lyric. How can you go wrong with that?

So let me get started. Yesterday was the $5 pizza. Today, what will it be.

I don't know about you, but I can hardly stand the suspense.