Okay, my husband says I can’t start my about page with that word. I only say this, though, because I hate trying to explain myself, which is what I’m supposed to do − here. So, yeah, SHIT!
Also, my husband, as much as he’d like to, doesn’t get to tell me what I can and can’t start my about page with!
But then it’s always awkward when I’m supposed to say something about myself − whether through writing or when I’m in a class or group. I’ve noticed that when people are pressured to do this, they either sound too polished or they stutter and stumble and turn red in the face or they ramble because they talk a lot when they get nervous.
They’re nervous because they’re hoping to say something their peers might find interesting or relevant or funny, but then they realize − too late − that no one really cares, except now everyone is staring at them not so much with genuine interest as much as with amused horror, which is making this person even more nervous because they’ve now talked longer than anyone else and they can’t seem to stop themselves and oh, dear Jesus, just strike me dead and make me shut up already!
Only slightly less awkward, I suppose, was that time I had to write my own obituary. Thanks, Death & Dying class for making me do that! Because writing my obit wasn’t morbid or disconcerting at all! By the way, how can someone get less than an “A” for writing their own obituary?!!! Still, so annoyed about that.
Sometimes I try and explain who I am in relation to other people, so:
Married? Check. His name is David.
Kids? Check. Their names are Lauren and Ry. Both are adults.
Stepkids? Check. We’ll let them keep their privacy.
Stepgrandkids? Check. Ditto about the privacy.
Daughter, wife, mother, stepmother, stepgrandmother, sister, granddaughter, niece, aunt, cousin, etc. All checks.
Or I could give you my elevator speech: “Hello, it’s nice to meet you, (fill in your name here.) My name is Mona and I’m an emerging writer and humorist who enjoys writing short, narrative essays and stories about the absurdity that is my life.”
“Who, moi? I’m just an ordinary woman dealing with life’s absurdities.”
So how does any of this relate to you? Great question!
Sharing my stories often reminds others of one of their stories! And then the story fest is − ON! For me, that’s the best part. Because, really, isn’t relating with one another a HUGE part of what life is about? Isn’t that one of the ultimate truths of existence? We’re alone, but just maybe, we’re not so alone when we connect on some level?
I believe we’re all joined in the absurdity of life. So whether you’re dealing with asinine people or technology that’s supposed to make life better but, instead, leaves you going WTF!!!!! − or whether you sometimes feel like a freaking cartoon character with an eternal cloud following you around with a stupid punch line just waiting for you in the next frame of your cartoon existence − or whether you’re dealing with some other quandary and you aren’t quite sure what happened or how you got to where you are − I hear you! There’s only one of you (thank God!) and you have a story not quite like anyone else’s to tell!
Of course, there are also times when the sun comes out and the skies are blue and life is good − that is until you realize you got a major sunburn from soaking up too much sun. It’s at that moment when you realize just how fortunate you’ve been to have that stupid cloud overhead providing you with shade. So where did it go now that you need it?!!! Only thing to do at this point is to pull out the aloe and slather generously − and instead of cursing your cloud, maybe figure out a way to make friends with it!
What I like to keep in mind as I journey forward is that whenever I get to the other side of whatever “uncomfortable moment” I’m going through − there’s going to be a helluva story to tell! I try to embrace the good, bad and ugly for all it’s worth and then share it in a way that turns sonofabitch situations into amazing tales! It’s so much more satisfying than wallowing and whining! Though, I can whine and wallow with the best! As long as there’s wine with the whine! And cheesecake. Good music helps too! But then it becomes a party. Oh, well. If we have to party, we have to party.
So whatever your circumstance, I hope you visit often and share adventures!
One-ish more things:
At times I use the entire, glorious spectrum of curse words, sometimes all strung together as one long swear. Because, as Atticus Finch’s brother, Jack, once explained to Scout in To Kill a Mockingbird − and I paraphrase − such language should only be uttered when sorely provocated − and dear God, sometimes I’m sorely provocated! (God bless you, Harper Lee!)
Also, I have a warped sense of humor − so if you’re easily offended, consider this fair warning! But hey, this is how I cope with the dastardly pitfalls and challenges of life. I’ve never met one shitty situation when shouting at the top of my lungs − with feeling − SONOFAMOTHERFUCKINGBITCH − hasn’t helped!
And it just did.
So welcome to my blog!
P.S. I go by a pen name: M.L. James. I use this to protect, you know, loved ones.
P.P.S. My work is copyrighted and if you want to reprint any of it, just give me a holler. I’m usually pretty nice about this stuff.