So here's a list of topics this rusty blogger has to choose from.
1. A Wedding. As in, my wedding. It's something super grown ups do, and I do so want folks to believe I am a super, for true, grown up lady person. Plus, there's the whole marrying for love thing. But let's save this one for when I am in the throws of uncontrollable, unavoidable, unattractive bridal madness. I apologize to all the other brides I ever made fun of. It is insanity. And I hear the opening (and ending) of 2001: A Space Odyssey every time I book a new vendor. The marriage itself is the monolith. We'll worry about that later.
2. Ageism in theatre. Or sexism in theatre. Or racism in theatre. Man, that is a lot of ground to cover. I think that is gonna give me at least 5 or 6 posts right there. Let's wait until I've warmed up a bit.
3. I just watched Boogie Nights for the first time since college, and I really liked it. Is that something we need to cover? I'm a fan of tempo and of ensemble films... I'm not sure there is much more I can add to the conversation that hasn't been said before. Maybe we'll find a way to tie it into the impending theatre-isms posts. Because film and theatre suffer from a lot of the same maladies, and it is nice to see a bit of a cure trotted out every now and then.
4. Why has it been 469 years since my last blog post? Also, is there anything more overdone than bloggers talking about blogging? Other than artists talking about artist-ing. But it is a good segue into discussing what inspired me to do what I'm about to do. As a blogger. On the interweb. Not as a person in the real world.
Or, What The Hell Am I Doing
Mike, my soon to be husband, approached me with a challenge. One that he discovered on another Birmingham based blog, See Jane Write. The goal is to publish an original post for every day in November. Which, clearly, I have already failed in this. But I'm only a few days behind, and the internet is a forgiving entity. Sometimes.
I had already been thinking about taking up the old blog again, for a number of reasons. First and foremost, I fear that I have succumb to a condition that strikes so many when they crossover from their "consequence free" youth into their "consequence bound" adulthood : Cynical Observation. It feels as though I am spending too much time sitting back and second guessing every little aspect of life, of people, of their lives, and of my own life. It is no way to live. It's the consequence of being "consequence bound".
I think this illness strikes when the reality of the inevitability of time and human responsibility starts to really sink in. And because we are such narrow creatures (at our worst), it creates this all or nothing mentality. Set aside this foolishness and stop being duped by fantastical notions of purpose, Grown Up Lady Person! Be more fartsy and less artsy! Oh, you aren't an amazing and successful writer/actress/such and such? Then stop wasting everyone's time and do something adults do. Make money. Fulfill responsibilities. Grow. Up! Oh, and your sense of humor is lame. And so's your face.
And so, you stop writing. It's totes cool to look foolish when you are young, because hey! People expect that of you. You're still discovering yourself and building your own personal reality. But once you step over that invisible line into so called "maturity", then Mister or Sister - you better have your shit together. Because no one tolerates an old fool. So yeah, in short, I'm just afraid of looking stupid.
|No, but I'm trying to be.|
It doesn't help that I had a few teachers in school who made me embarrassed and ashamed of my writing, a pastime I had enjoyed ever since I was a kid. But somewhere in my early twenties, I resolved to reclaim it; to say in my best Session Nine voice, "Fuck you, I'm gonna write however I want, whatever I want, and as much as I want!" And so I did just that, fairly consistently, for several years. And then I crossed over.
I don't think I could ever fully come back over to the carefree kid's table, but I could perhaps shuffle off to Buffalo, where you can be responsible and foolish at the same time. Blogging is a good way to do something that is personal and challenging, and possibly even entertaining. I started my blog, not knowing if I would be any good at it, but hoping that I could have just one part of my life that wasn't ruled by fear and shame. If you look back at my earliest posts on this blog, it started off as an outlet for my art journaling and became the home for a combination of two things; One that I knew for certain I had no skill at (art) and one that I wasn't brimming over with confidence about (writing). But I made myself do it, and gradually, for a small period of time, I had less fear of looking stupid. I could be in my own life, looking out, instead always the opposite.
So here we are. It looks like this is happening. I must confess that I haven't officially joined the challenge on See Jane Write's page. I am working my way up to it, but I'm still fearful. I can't guarantee that I will stick to the challenge. I sure hope I will! I can't guarantee that these next several posts will be as enjoyable, or readable, as perhaps some of my older ones. And I can't guarantee that this is going to be the magical cure for my Grown Up Lady affliction. But I have 26 more days to be just a little less cynical, a little less fearful, and a little more foolish.