There’s nothing quite like forcing yourself into a corner to start you writing. I did that. Me. And despite wanting to play peek-a-boo with the internet, I knew that if I couldn’t see it, it could still see me. Bah. 2016.
In trying to figure out how to kick off my new blog, I came up with very little. As I was driving home after having seen an improv show downtown, I was frustrated because nothing particularly noteworthy had happened today — nothing really worth writing about. I knew I had to write tonight, though. It was on my to-do list, and I’m trying super hard to be responsible right now. I’m an ebb and flow kind of girl.
Anyway, while continuing to struggle with coming up with something to blog, I was taking off my clothes to put on my pajamas (read: ancient tank top and flannel pants), and discovered I’d been wearing my bra inside out all day. It’s a big bra. There are four clasps on the back of this sucker. How the hell. What.
And that’s pretty much my life.
Yesterday, I was thinking about this old salon I used to go to when I was in middle school and high school. I grew up in a suburb of Kansas City. My mother had somehow stumbled across this gem of a hair place called Stilwell Magnolias. The owner, Roberta, always reminded me of Roseanne. She had this enormous poster of Rod Stewart on the wall of her salon, and she was the first person to wax my upper lip and eyebrows. I recall older women coming over to watch the process of Roberta using Gigi wax (she was very adamant that Gigi wax was the only wax to use) and ripping hair out of my face.
I’ve always been a hairy person. My mother’s side of the family is Scottish. I blame them. It’s only gotten worse as I’ve aged. To all of you just starting out with your hair removal regimen, know this: People will tell you that after you’ve tweezed or waxed an area, after a time, your hair will grow in lighter, thinner. THIS IS A FILTHY LIE. I’ve waxed, tweezed, bleached, and attempted laser hair removal. The next step is dermaplaning, which is a delicate way of saying that an esthetician is going to start shaving my entire face and neck area.
Right. So you’re now aware that I wear clothes inside out, and I’m a yeti. Other facts to help you better understand the woman behind the blog:
- I’m an age that I used to consider completely old when I was a teenager. I don’t feel that way now. I’m not fighting the aging process or pretending to be younger than I am, but old? Not really.
- I’m married and I have an 8-year old daughter. Being a parent is ridiculous and most of the time I’m making it up as I go. She is awesome; I’m biased.
- My child knows more about computers than I do already, which is maddening. I was at the forefront of time wasting on the internet. Chat rooms on AOL? Telnet? I was all up in that stuff. These days I can barely navigate a fraction of social media that’s out there.
- My husband has the patience of a million men and I have no idea how he continues to put up with me. He breaks into song regularly, is a sci-fi geek (dork? He’ll be pissed that I don’t know the difference), and loves talking about politics.
- I hate politics.
- I live with a severe anxiety disorder, panic disorder, and depression. Also bipolar disorder. I advocate for better mental health care as much as I can. I talk about my shit candidly, because I feel that those of us who can talk about living with mental illness should. Someone who might need to hear a story like theirs could be anywhere, and talking about it helps me, too.
- I’m crafty like a motherfucker. I knit, do origami, crochet, draw, and make things whenever I can, and I have the sprawling Pinterest account to prove it. Oh, but I suck at finishing projects. There’s that.
- I love to hear about random acts of kindness. Be nice to people. Being nice is cool.
- I can’t stand most reality shows, and I’m roughly a decade behind in watching any television that people my age obsess over. I’m currently binge-watching the first iteration of NCIS, for instance. Mad Men? Never seen it. Game of Thrones? No idea. That political show with Kevin Spacey that I’m sure I’d love? Can’t even remember the title. Oh, and Serial? The podcast? Yeah, I’m still figuring out podcasts.
- Three cats live in our messy home. I’m messy. I try not to be messy, but I am. Messy brain, messy house. But I swear, I’m desperately trying to fix this.
- Word games: Yes have some.
I’ve written so much more than I anticipated! Plus, I’m up after 10:00 and still making sense, sort of. That’s huge. There are night owls, there are morning people, and then there are those of us that really do midday well. I’m a midday person who leans mornings.
I’ve woken myself up in the middle of the night by farting really loudly before.
Anyway, yes. This is my blog. Welcome to my world.