He asked, What's it about? I told him, I've been sitting on this for awhile and thinking about how to organize it and everything until finally I was like, Just start posting stories it will organize itself whatever I've been putting this off for far too long I'll try it and keep doing it and see what happens.
As I loaded up the last of my drinks onto my tray, I casually mentioned, It's had about 500 hits since Tuesday night and I have no idea what that means but it sounds good to me. He sputtered, What?....why....do you have a lot of family...I mean, who would.....? I walked away. I had to get the drinks to my table.
But I smiled for the next few minutes, finishing his sentence in my head: Who would want to read stories I write about myself? Indeed.
When I returned to the bar, I spit out his question and he tried to back track but I told him I completely agreed and it baffles me too. My only explanation: I tell the truth. And people like it.
Look, it's a mystery to me but over the past few years I've discovered the only thing people want to read are stories about our greatest fears, biggest messes, most outrageous embarrassments. If I ever am invited to teach a writing class, I only have one piece of advice - you have to be totally willing to bend all the way over, spread your butt cheeks, and let everyone examine. Then, and only then, will people be willing to read you.
Like this:
About a month ago, my ex wife's biological mother held her hand up in my face when I leaned in for a hug and told me, Oh I am not hugging you.
As I loaded up the last of my drinks onto my tray, I casually mentioned, It's had about 500 hits since Tuesday night and I have no idea what that means but it sounds good to me. He sputtered, What?....why....do you have a lot of family...I mean, who would.....? I walked away. I had to get the drinks to my table.
But I smiled for the next few minutes, finishing his sentence in my head: Who would want to read stories I write about myself? Indeed.
When I returned to the bar, I spit out his question and he tried to back track but I told him I completely agreed and it baffles me too. My only explanation: I tell the truth. And people like it.
Look, it's a mystery to me but over the past few years I've discovered the only thing people want to read are stories about our greatest fears, biggest messes, most outrageous embarrassments. If I ever am invited to teach a writing class, I only have one piece of advice - you have to be totally willing to bend all the way over, spread your butt cheeks, and let everyone examine. Then, and only then, will people be willing to read you.
Like this:
About a month ago, my ex wife's biological mother held her hand up in my face when I leaned in for a hug and told me, Oh I am not hugging you.
Right in front of my son.
Now there's a few things you need to know about this situation. Starting with how I've accepted a zillion creepy hugs from her that I never wanted in the first place. I am not at all a hugger. It's called Being Polite. Second, this woman would not even be standing anywhere near me, my ex wife, or our children if it wasn't for me. Period. She would not be invited to see our kids perform in Fiddler on the Roof. She would not have a place to stay in Columbus. She would not even KNOW her own grandchildren. If not for me. My First Wife completely rejected her and kicked her out of her life for over 13 years. I was the one who was all, Maybe we should try Forgiveness. Third, this is made all the more outrageous when you consider how she actually follows some Hugging Guru around the country and hugging is some significant piece of her spirituality so I know when she says I'm not hugging you what she really means is Go to Hell. Fourth, the reason she hates me now is because of the things I write on FB. At the beginning of our divorce, she didn't do the normal thing of cutting me out of her life the way the other mother-in-law (the cool one, the step mother, the one who actually parented children well) who knows how to set normal boundaries did. And even though I was always suspicious the only reason Bio Mom came into my house was to report back to Eva about me, I had nothing to hide. Bio mom was all, I deeply love each and every one of you, you are all in my prayers blah blah blah. Then one day she told me I needed to stop writing stuff on FB (but not the political stuff, she likes the political stuff) and I shrugged and said, If you don't like me on FB then you don't like me and I"m ok with that. Not everybody has to like me.
Wait. Did I mention she did this in front of my son. Who was playing Temple Run and probably didn't even notice but I always think that and then he recites back everything that happened nine days ago while he was playing Temple Run so yes he probably did see his grandmother (who he worships) hold her hand up in his mother's face (who he loves) and deem her not worthy of hugging.
I can't even tell you how much my head has exploded all over the place since that day. And just this morning she tried to call me.
I know what this is. I've talked to god about it a lot. The Mother Of All Life Lessons for me.
Resentment.
Now there's a few things you need to know about this situation. Starting with how I've accepted a zillion creepy hugs from her that I never wanted in the first place. I am not at all a hugger. It's called Being Polite. Second, this woman would not even be standing anywhere near me, my ex wife, or our children if it wasn't for me. Period. She would not be invited to see our kids perform in Fiddler on the Roof. She would not have a place to stay in Columbus. She would not even KNOW her own grandchildren. If not for me. My First Wife completely rejected her and kicked her out of her life for over 13 years. I was the one who was all, Maybe we should try Forgiveness. Third, this is made all the more outrageous when you consider how she actually follows some Hugging Guru around the country and hugging is some significant piece of her spirituality so I know when she says I'm not hugging you what she really means is Go to Hell. Fourth, the reason she hates me now is because of the things I write on FB. At the beginning of our divorce, she didn't do the normal thing of cutting me out of her life the way the other mother-in-law (the cool one, the step mother, the one who actually parented children well) who knows how to set normal boundaries did. And even though I was always suspicious the only reason Bio Mom came into my house was to report back to Eva about me, I had nothing to hide. Bio mom was all, I deeply love each and every one of you, you are all in my prayers blah blah blah. Then one day she told me I needed to stop writing stuff on FB (but not the political stuff, she likes the political stuff) and I shrugged and said, If you don't like me on FB then you don't like me and I"m ok with that. Not everybody has to like me.
Wait. Did I mention she did this in front of my son. Who was playing Temple Run and probably didn't even notice but I always think that and then he recites back everything that happened nine days ago while he was playing Temple Run so yes he probably did see his grandmother (who he worships) hold her hand up in his mother's face (who he loves) and deem her not worthy of hugging.
I can't even tell you how much my head has exploded all over the place since that day. And just this morning she tried to call me.
I know what this is. I've talked to god about it a lot. The Mother Of All Life Lessons for me.
Resentment.
I examine my motives and I think I have none or I think they are Good Motives and then something like this happens and my head explodes. Like I had very loving, good reasons for talking Eva into meeting her mother for coffee after 13 years but now I'm like Woman, Have You No Gratitude? I know, I know. This is what passive/aggressive looks like up close and personal. And when I'm sitting still and being rational, I get it. You want to be loyal to your daughter. Finally. And since you were such an unbelievably shitty mother the whole time she was a child, I'm trying to dig deep and rescue my empathy and understanding while my head is exploding at how you're being such a shitty grandparent.
I have a difficult time comprehending how some people can so absolutely cut a person out of their lives. If I have any connection whatsoever, even some ten minute conversation, I feel a profound attachment and will jump through any amount of hoops to keep the connection going. It's just the way I am made. I feel a profound attachment to that Twitter follower I got last week. But I am starting to practice Blocking. Is it spiritual growth? Is it being mature? Am I growing up? Is it finally ok to say: OMG, you are not a good person, you are Blocked. From everything? I don't know. That feels so foreign to me because The Beatles sing We Can Work It Out on an endless loop in my brain.
One of my best friends is amused by my exploding head. "You get upset about the weirdest things." She's right. Someone could steal all of my money and fuck my wife and I'd be all, I totally get why you did that. But refuse to hug me when I didn't even want to hug you in the first place? and IT'S OVER.
I have a difficult time comprehending how some people can so absolutely cut a person out of their lives. If I have any connection whatsoever, even some ten minute conversation, I feel a profound attachment and will jump through any amount of hoops to keep the connection going. It's just the way I am made. I feel a profound attachment to that Twitter follower I got last week. But I am starting to practice Blocking. Is it spiritual growth? Is it being mature? Am I growing up? Is it finally ok to say: OMG, you are not a good person, you are Blocked. From everything? I don't know. That feels so foreign to me because The Beatles sing We Can Work It Out on an endless loop in my brain.
One of my best friends is amused by my exploding head. "You get upset about the weirdest things." She's right. Someone could steal all of my money and fuck my wife and I'd be all, I totally get why you did that. But refuse to hug me when I didn't even want to hug you in the first place? and IT'S OVER.
Another good one! (btw, laughed out loud at the "spreading the buttcheeks" metaphor, great job creating a very distinct, crystal clear mental image through writing!)
ReplyDeleteI started watching that HBO show GIRLS. They also get naked a lot. Good writing, means being sincere and not hiding things. I don't know you, your blog was on a link from one of my FB friends and I randomly came to read it- and I liked it.
ReplyDeleteI also am a "keeper" of people. I finally decided to put one person on the "its over" list (a childhood friend) and I feel guilty to this day. But I am sticking with the "its over" because I know that being with this particular person always seems to bring out a nasty side of me. She pushes all my buttons and makes me behave "not in a warm fashion". So, maybe this time, you really should mean what you type- and walk away. Your life may be better for it.
for me, it's so difficult to know who should be cut out forever and who challenges me into becoming a better person. I worked with a girl who was just so mean to me and made my entire work life miserable. After I prayed about it and vented in a meeting, I realized: She is the master. She is here to teach me. I'm going to change the way I think before I go to work. Like lifting weights at the gym rips and tears our muscles and makes us stronger, sometimes life situations do it to the inner me. I have the lesson before me that I need in this exact moment. She doesn't like me. I can't STAND IT when people don't like me. And just like practicing the piano, the same song over and over, I needed to go to work and for a teeny bit every day, I needed to practice being in the presence of someone who doesn't like me. Eventually learn that it's OK not to like me and I'm OK being around someone who doesn't like me.
Deletebut yes, sometimes enough is enough. or I'm just too tired.