First, I have to say HOW GREAT IT FEELS TO BE WRITING SOMETHING NON-SCIENTIFIC!!! I haven’t written a story in… sheesh…has it really been four weeks?!!! And to be honest, I really shouldn’t be writing this now -two big papers due tomorrow- but I’m desperate!!! You know that pent-up feeling you get when you haven’t exercised in a while, or had an orgasm lately (blush…cause my mom would be disappointed if I talked trash like that and didn’t blush!)…..I get that feeling about writing too.
In 13 days, 7 hours, and 23 minutes—- SCHOOL’S OUT!!!
And I’m finally gonna’ get to write about important stuff like my menobelly (actually it’s almost gone!!!! More on that later!), and my perfect kids hehehe, and my addiction to picking scabssssss…like I said, important stuff.
Besides, I miss you. Connecting with you keeps me connected with me. Feeling a little disconnected without you ❤
I haven’t allowed schoolwork to interfere with spending time with my kids so this past Saturday my nose was dragged out of the books, and my gentle Jessica and I spent the day together. me and jessica. A Buffalo and her Butterfly.
We had the best day ever which ended with Saturday night at the bingo hall!!! Jess planned that as a surprise cause it’s always been on my bucket list and Oh Em Gee. I felt like I’d stepped into another world -kind of like the feeling I get when I read a new book! I can’t wait to share that with you…. and I can’t wait to go again!
I have so much to share….lately I’ve been thinking about the grey space, you know the part between black and white….and judging….like why do I care if my fb friend wants to post a selfie a day?! Carmen (that’s the elderly Maltese lady we met at Bingo) would say, “Whassa madder wit you?!” And she’s right. What’s the matter with me? It’s none of my business what others do!!! But that’s another post.
On Saturday, Jess and I spent a couple of hours at Chapters…cause we’re both crazy about books…and I started flipping through one by Shonda Rhimes- she’s the brilliant writer of ER. Something she said hit me hard. One of those moments when suddenly a little piece of your world makes perfect sense. Shonda loves to write and she said because of this, she’s always been a liar!
So have I.
I’ve always told lies.
Wow. I said it out loud.
I’ve always told lies.
Actually feels good. and okay.
I’ve always told lies.
Mostly in my head, but nevertheless…lies. And I secretly wondered why. Was I unhappy with my life so I was lying to make it better? Was I covering the sins of others? Was good not really good enough? Was God gonna’ banish me to a hotter section of hell than all the non-liars??? Sidenote: If you’re human you’re lying too, even if it’s just to yourself!
No. NONONONONONONONO. And no.
I’m a writer. That’s all. I am a writer. Like Shonda. Well, maybe not quite but she started somewhere too!
While I was reading this, a strange memory clicked, and I turned to Jess.
“When you lived in England with the artist, did her house have a thatched roof?!”
Jess looked puzzled.
“Well it was an 18th century cottage…”
“With a thatched roof????”
Jess searched her brain because unlike me, she COULD NOT lie, OCD wouldn’t allow it.
“No, it was very old, but I don’t remember a thatched roof…”
I was shattered. “Please tell me that the artist painted on her rooftop on days when the sun was shining?!?!”
Jess thought I had lost my mind, but she’s pretty used to that, “Mom, I don’t think she painted on her roof, and the sun doesn’t shine in England!”
I Was Crushed.
When Jess was attending Oxford in England, every morning I would meditate and wrap her in a white light and then I’d smile as I imagined her artist landlord painting on her thatched rooftop… she painted mostly birds, and the birds talked to her just like they talked to Cinderella.
A thatched roof belonged in this story!!!
I don’t know if I told anyone that, but I surely believed it myself. WTF????
I sat thinking. No longer able to concentrate on the words floating around the page.
So my husband really hadn’t bought me the love suit? I did know that in my heart, but I loved my When Harry met Sally version.
And he hadn’t built the little boys and me a pirate ship when he tipped the bed over on us?! But we had so much fun out on the open sea!
My grumpy neighbour hadn’t lost his friends and his faith in the Great War… he was simply a grump?!?!
Mr P doesn’t drive around all day with a half-smile and thinking about how wonderful I am and how lucky he is?!
My Dad wasn’t a famous newscaster…he was a weatherman on a news channel in a small coastal town in Newfoundland? for just a little while. and most times he made up the weather.
Yikes. I’m a big fat liar. And, according to the Bible thumpers, that means I’m gonna’ burn in hell.
Was I really 11 pounds when I was born? with a pointy head and the nurses said I was ugly?! uglyasinshessouglyshescute.
Was I really only 100 pounds on my wedding day with a waist smaller than Sleeping Beauty’s?! 110pounds.
Did I really win a provincial spelling Bee when I was in grade 8 cause I spelled Appoggiatura right?! actuallythewordwasisland.
Did I really say “Good” every single time my chemo doctor asked, How are you? If so, did I mean it? yesisaiditnoiwasnotgood.
Was it really a beautiful day today? its. a. beautiful. day. every. day. i. get. to. wake. up.
Liars. Shonda Rhimes. And Me.
but perhaps we’re not really lying at all…..
“Reality is merely an illusion, albeit a very persistent one.” Thanks, Albert.
When Jess and I got home, I grabbed my computer. It was time to see if I had really been born on Friday the 13th. About 45 years ago when I realized Anne of Green Gables had been lucky enough to be born on such a day I figured I must have been too! After all, Anne and I were soulmates and besides, I was a fairly lucky person (not many people get drawn for the New York Marathon!!!! More on that soon!)….. For 45 years I’d believed that I had been born on a Friday. Me and Anne.
Now was the moment of truth.
Then how the hell have I been so lucky???
Maybe it’s simply because I think I am.