About a week ago at an highschool alumni function, a friend told me that my blog was "pathetic". I chuckled as if he was just pokin' fun at me, but my selfconscious meter went haywire and my confidence took a nosedive. All this time I've been so sure that my pitiful moments were few and far between. That mostly I write here with tongue firmly in cheek and the breath of sarcasm swirling sinuously just below the type.
When I first got ready to write this it was the day after, a Friday, and I was doin' my usual - hangin' out at my house, cleaning the etigére, talkin' to the flock, having a glass of yummy Kim Crawford Sauvignon... Hey! I am pathetic!
So I waited. I wanted time for that pathetisism to roil around in the grist mill, fling out the chaff, and perhaps see if there was any grain to that particular thought. (Are you loving my metaphor??) Wanted to decipher my own insecurities and superiorities, ready to accept what I found.
I, I'll have you know, am not pathetic (in general). Sure there are moments of self pity and seeming distraughtfulness, but the overwhelming sentiment is that DAMN! I am righteous! I rock, I could be said to be the pinnacle of Rennaissance Woman. Hence, any fleeting instances of incongruent self image should be completley ignored.
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
No comments:
Post a Comment