The more that's going on, the less i have to say
I am really getting into this whole greeting card thing. It is so awesome writing cards to people again. I used to have quite a few correspondents, and I used to know what it was like to get an actual letter in the actual mail. Just writing them is fun.
I was writing out another card tonight to someone who lives in my town, but I don't see her often. And I will preserve her anonymity because this way, the card will be more of a surprise. She does not read my blog. But people she knows do. And so, I don't feel the need to share who she is.
But it occurred to me that I could say things to her in a card that I couldn't say in a casual conversation.
I used to really enjoy going to parties, going out to the bar. And I used to be able to carry on a conversation with just anyone. And for awhile, during my divorce, there was always some new story, some new update to share. And then things settled down, and I thought, "Well, I must have just gotten a boring life."
But tonight I was talking about some things in this card that I realized that are just awkward to discuss in public. Like the vampire romances I read voraciously. How do you explain that? And Christian's diagnosis. That I am not friends anymore with two people I used to be friends with, not that either situation has anything in common except me, because they are twits. Or, because I am a twit. And I can't talk about my job here even*, so I'm not going to talk about it casually at a party or a bar. And people won't understand that I'm worried about Lucy and sad about Keri and Bear or thinking about how Stacey is doing, or laughing about something Kathy wrote-- because they are not part of my little blog world. How do I explain to people who don't know what a blogwalk is? It's like explaining chocolate to a dog.
So, rather than finding out that my life is boring, I simply found out what must be true of many quiet people: when you live in your head a lot, it is hard to come out and start talking about your little world.
It is easier to do this quietly, in writing. It is easier to do it in a friendly card to catch up.
It is easier to do it here.
*because I am a spy, with the secret identity of a banker.
I was writing out another card tonight to someone who lives in my town, but I don't see her often. And I will preserve her anonymity because this way, the card will be more of a surprise. She does not read my blog. But people she knows do. And so, I don't feel the need to share who she is.
But it occurred to me that I could say things to her in a card that I couldn't say in a casual conversation.
I used to really enjoy going to parties, going out to the bar. And I used to be able to carry on a conversation with just anyone. And for awhile, during my divorce, there was always some new story, some new update to share. And then things settled down, and I thought, "Well, I must have just gotten a boring life."
But tonight I was talking about some things in this card that I realized that are just awkward to discuss in public. Like the vampire romances I read voraciously. How do you explain that? And Christian's diagnosis. That I am not friends anymore with two people I used to be friends with, not that either situation has anything in common except me, because they are twits. Or, because I am a twit. And I can't talk about my job here even*, so I'm not going to talk about it casually at a party or a bar. And people won't understand that I'm worried about Lucy and sad about Keri and Bear or thinking about how Stacey is doing, or laughing about something Kathy wrote-- because they are not part of my little blog world. How do I explain to people who don't know what a blogwalk is? It's like explaining chocolate to a dog.
So, rather than finding out that my life is boring, I simply found out what must be true of many quiet people: when you live in your head a lot, it is hard to come out and start talking about your little world.
It is easier to do this quietly, in writing. It is easier to do it in a friendly card to catch up.
It is easier to do it here.
*because I am a spy, with the secret identity of a banker.
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