The funny thing is that I had tons of things to say before I sat down to write this. It's strange, that.
The other funny thing is that I decided a long time ago that this would be my repository for everything in my head and yet there are so many things in there that I don't bother saying. Things that maybe I should. Things that maybe I shouldn't. Mostly stuff I don't.
Perhaps it's just that I've told too many people I know about this blog.
Perhaps I just wouldn't say these things even if they didn't know about it. I don't know. I'm not going to ever tell anyone to go away.
Maybe I should say more.
Last September my mother sent me over for an appointment with her hairdresser who drilled me with friendly, innocent questions about school and things as she styled my hair. She told me I was a very pretty girl and I was flattered at the time because it's something that I rarely ever hear.
Little did I know that she had taken the liberty of getting my phone number and setting me up with her son, 26, medical student, job in a hospital, plays soccer, tennis, owns a boat, casual drinker, non-smoker. By all accounts a nice guy and through no fault of his own, I wasn't the least bit interested.
At the time I felt more than a little used by the fact that absolutely none of it had any prior knowledge or consent from me and I was literally groomed for the part, based solely upon my appearance and a couple of polite pleasantries. I guess I must exude respect, docility, servility, dependability, traditional conservative wholesomeness out of my every pore.
I know a lot of big words.
I cook really well and I can knit too, if that means anything.
I guess that's not such a bad thing.
Growing up, I could never figure out why my friends' parents liked me more than my friends did. I'm quite convinced that I was the kid that your parents suggested that you call when your first three or four choices weren't available to come play. It's alright that I didn't like Barbies much because I could help you with your spelling homework and I wouldn't even tell you you were stupid for not knowing the difference between there, their and they're, even though you were.
I could have even taught you how to knit.
Some days I just feel sad.
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