Tuesday, November 28, 2006

Friends In My Head

Once upon a time, long, long ago... Ok, so it was last May, after I was blessedly laid, layed, whatever, off. I have always been mighty sucklicious at the whole lay lie thing, get over it if I am wrong. I was looking on Monster.com to try to decide if I wanted to stay in my field, do something else, get a boob job and some lipo and become a trophy wife, you know, exploring my options. They have an extensive boob job section on Monster dontcha know? There I found a link that led me to my new obsession: exploration of blogs. The link led me to the blogfather, Waiter Rant. And so it began. I was on the road to collecting my blog friends in my head. Much thanks for the "friend in my head" concept to Wendy Williams, the Queen of all Media, who I discovered after Howard Stern went to Sirius, and I was still making the commute from hell to get to and from work everyday. Someday I will write a post about how a white thirty seven-year-old woman from the uptight lily-white suburbs ended up listening to a black radio station. That’s a good story too. Today, I want to talk about who I love on the net, and why. I always thought blogs were something stupid horny junior high kids wrote to talk about the cute boy or girl they sit next to, and how mean their parents are for not letting them smoke pot in the house. Turns out some pretty cool people are writing some pretty cool stuff out here on the Internet.

I read through all the Waiter’s posts. I liked his irreverent reverence. His allusions to his decision to leave the seminary intrigued me. His posts about his wrestling with his religious convictions were experiences I could relate to wholeheartedly. I loved his insightful Aesopesque tales about happenings at the bistro where he works. His musings about his youth, relationships, his family, and his joint custody, and the intrigue at the dog park. So, man, I loved this guy. Oh, my God, thank you Jesus, God Bless America, GOOOOAAAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I was thrilled out of my mind to have something, anything intelligent to read. Something that had some thought behind it, something that spoke to my soul and touched my heart and piqued my curiosity. I know a lot of wickedly intelligent people, and have some great conversations with them, but since my Mom and Dad died I have had two less wickedly intelligent people to talk to. My parents were two of the people who I could most easily talk to, so I have been intellectually lonely. I really needed some kind of sustenance for my brain. I’d read every damn book and magazine I have more than twice. I became in serious danger of being banned from both Barnes and Noble and Borders for hanging out and reading two or three books a day. Leaning up against the wall, Starbucks coffee clutched in my voracious little hands, blocking their aisles as I paced, and read and talked to myself. Thank God I found people with neurons that synapse effectively on the Internet. I would have otherwise slipped into a coma of complete lack of hope for the world months ago.

So, on the Birds of Feather Flock Together theory of life, I checked out the blogs Waiter linked to. Some I really liked, like Opinionistas, Clublife, The Hollywood Machine, and El Guapo in DC, and more recently the Barmaid Blog. Some not so much, some sucked big donkey dick, some had interesting ideas, but were so poorly written, and/or flat out stupid I just clicked back on my browser and tried again. These blogs I liked, and even some of those I didn’t like, led me to other blogs I have fallen in love with like D-Listed, Dooce, Post Secret, and Wide Lawns. I also discovered all kinds of things on the Internet I never knew about through mentions on these sites. I feel a lot less lonely in the world with my problems with my family. To know I am not the only one who is surrounded by people who make them upset, are so fundamentally different from them that it is amazing we are from the same planet, never mind family, and who love those people so fiercely and wholly that they would fight and kill and die for them. I found Craigslist which I totally love, for the freaks alone, not to mention the actual functionality. I found all kinds of place to shop, and eat, and learn. I am in total intellectual stimulation heaven. I have a lot more fun, and am a lot more able to be patient, and truly engaged, when I actually go outside and talk to people live in person because of the time I spend reading and writing in the vast and anonymous world of the Internet.

After I had been reading for a few months I decided to write. I needed to write. When I first went to college right after high school, I was an English major. I have always loved to both read and write. I know that when you write something, the meaning it has to you is lost to all but you. The experience of reading what someone has written is informed by all your own experiences and perceptions. I do not know any of these blogers I love. I do not know how they feel about what they write or why they write, I just know what it means to me. When I comment on their posts, or send them e-mail, I do not know if they are amused, or intrigued, or bored, or insulted, or if they feel validated or misunderstood. I have always been stingy with my writing. I did not want to share; I did not care how anybody felt, or what anything I wrote meant to them. At times I chose to share with a friend or family member, or some man who had managed to keep my attention for more than a New York minute. Frequently I had to share with a boss or teacher for whom I had to write something. I have always had a lot of positive support for having accomplished the task I had set out to perform. Now I am enjoying being selfish in a different way. I am sharing my writing now, and I hope if anyone reads it, that their perceptions and experiences converge to make what I write validating for them. My new selfishness is in that I write what I want, when I want, how I want. It is all about me, and I am utterly fascinated with myself, as you should be with yourself.


Laura said...

Just linked over to your blog from THM's based soley on your pic. Diamonds are Forever - very, very good.

SkippyMom said...

good lord - Having posted and been linked by some of the blogs you read I hope to heaven I am not one of the "donky dicks" bloggers you speak of ...gah.

It is hard to be as brilliant as THM or Barista...but we try - little bloggers that we are.

You have got to tell me!