Here’s the thing. Just like most everybody else in this world, I love the beginning of things, when things are shiny and new. A fresh new notebook. (I have an embarrassingly abundant amount of these at home). New books. New ideas. A new pair of elastic waist pants. But as soon as these things lose their luster, as soon as I’ve scribbled in a 1/3 of the notebook’s pages, lost the verve for that "awesome" new idea or realized that the sweats I swore were super loose last month are now super not, I kinda lose interest. I quit. The notebook gets cast away for something more empty, promising and fresh. The ideas get replaced with something less demanding. The sweats get shoved back to the “maybe some day” section of the closet. My blog goes neglected.
On one hand, it really, really bothers me that I haven’t written any posts since March. This is my safe space. My haven. My place to just puke out words—no brief, no deadline, no art director waiting for his/her copy—and actually feel pretty good about it. On the other hand, I have to be real about the powers that not only I but every single one of us has been up against for the last six months. SIX MOTHNS. Winter. Quarantines. Distance learning. Confusion. More quarantines. Extended confusion. Canceled summer. Canceled everything. Virus, virus and more virus. And let’s not forget about the race wars. OH! And the upcoming election. To say it’s a lot is a vast understatement. And to be completely honest, I haven’t really known how to write about. Shit, I’m still processing most of it. So I’ve avoided it. Until now.
But I’m not going to write about any one of the things that are plaguing us. I can’t imagine anyone here needs any hear more words about any of them anyway. Instead, I’m just going to just hop scotch right over the last six months, assume we’re all on the same page here, and carry on. We’re in a shit storm, people. That’s all there is to it. This is life as we know it. And life must go on. I’m reminded of that Going On A Bear Hunt song: We can’t go over it. Can’t go under it. Can’t go around it. Gotta go through it. So let this blog be what it’s always been, a way to help m (and hopefully you) go through it. To deal. With my world. Our world. THE world.
And, no. No, I can’t say for sure where this is going to go. On the other side of this post, I might just fuck all and abandon ship all over again. Because who knows what holy terror tomorrow will bring. Who can say what kind of nonsense my children are going to dive head-first into from hour to the next. Who knows what my energy and/or blood alcohol levels will be two days or two weeks from now. The future is a big fucking question mark. All I have is today’s motivation to “pick up the pen” and fight the good fight. So whether this is my second to last post or the first of 12 more months of posting, dear blog, I just can’t quit you. I want you to remain shiny and new and lovable. Like virgin notebooks. Like marginally yet fun good ideas. Like loose sweatpants.
So in honor of not quitting my blog, here are 5 things that I have quit. (I don’t know why this connection seems to make perfect sense to me. It just does. Besides, what do you expect from my first post in nearly four months? Yeesh.) Of course, my “quit list” is much, much longer, but this is the year “quaran20“ after all. Also, winter is coming. So we’ve got pleeenty of time to get to those little bastards later.
1. The piano: I think my mom made me start? Or one of my friend’s was doing it so I just had to too? Or I just really wanted an excuse for my parents to buy me a Casio keyboard in 1988. (That bossa nova beat button tho!) Whatever the reason why I started, it ended. It could have been my lack of talent. Or the fact that my mom wouldn’t splurge on the full size keyboard (sorry, Mom). Or that my piano practice was held in a literal storage room of my Catholic school with a teacher who had a propensity for cat sweatshirts and close talking. Sure, I do sorta regret giving it up. But I also still sorta remember how to play the “bottom part” of Heart & Soul, so Iet’s consider that a win.
2. Volleyball: Why did I quit after my Freshman (or Sophomore?) year of high school? Two words: Bun. Huggers.
3. Wearing shoes: This “quit” is relatively new. I mean, who doesn’t have a closet that’s full of shoes gathering dust? There's nowhere to go that's worthy of wearing them to. And by “shoes,” I mean real shoes. Not sneakers or flip flops. Like the ones you actually spent money on, have more than 1/4 inch heel and may even be made of real leather. Just think of all those lonely, lost shoes out there with no feet to wear them. What are we supposed to do with all of the shoes? Better yet, what are all the shoes supposed to do with themselves? WHO IS GOING TO SAVE THE SHOES?!
4. Dreaming of dream worthy places: My “dream places” Pinterest board has segued from lux beach locals and quaint B&Bs to nearby, short hiking trails that can sustain a squirrely toddler and whine-prone 6 year-old before nap time. Mexico has gone from a fairly frequent escape to some fairyland place that I can see in my mind yet am no longer sure if it’s because I’ve actually been there, or because someone showed me a picture once. Oh well. Meh. Dreams are for the weak hearted anyway.
5. Totally caring about what my kids are watching on TV: To be fair, this one happened by accident. The other day, I came downstairs from my “home office” to get coffee and my husband informed me that he busted our 6 year-old watching the movie Heathers on TV. HEATHERS. Riiight at the scene where Winona Ryder and Christian Slater have coxed the two male football players into the woods? With guns? Yup. Definitely not a feel-good parenting moment. How he got there or how long he’d been there, no one knows. Now, no. I don’t intend to keep allowing my child to watch 1980’s black comedy teen films. We had a nice little talk about things and I set up some new controls on our Hulu account. But let’s be honest. The inmates are just a few short remote clicks away from running the asylum here. I might as well quit before I get fired.
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