The lost art of the "note".....

I was reorganizing a shelf and I came across a super sized manilla envelope with my name penciled across the front. I had forgotten that I put this envelope aside well over a year ago, but the memories came rushing back as soon as I saw it. I remember more about my teenage life because of this envelope. Things that I had long ago let fade away are now funny, sad and pathetic memories, many of them are moments that I would never have gotten back....no thanks to my addiction to Diet Coke. And, of course, the fact that I am approaching 40.

This envelope came from the mother of my best friend since 10th grade. Sadly, my friend died in a horrible car accident 13 years ago. I've been in touch with her mom over the years, though not very often, but we met a little over a year ago and she presented me with this envelope of "notes" that I had written to my friend. She had saved every scrap of paper I had ever given her, movie tickets, concert stubs, receipts...everything. She was the kind of friend that I find myself longing to find these days. She was completely invested in our friendship, she was the kind of friend that I could call anytime and not worry one ounce about the fact that I might be bothersome to her busy life.

There are a lot of memories that I have of days, nights, weekends and parties with my friend, but there was SO much that I couldn't possibly remember it all. There was also a lot of alcohol consumption which managed to fade away remembrances of places & events. But this envelope is chock full of notes and letters where I spilled my heart out to my kindred spirit. Thoughts of boredom, struggles, plans, fantasies....and, best of all, love. Love for my friends and love for all those stupid, stupid boys that I thought loved me back. The letters date from 10th grade all the way through my college years....and even the first introduction to my HUNK. Talk about a blast from the past. I'd long forgotten that I was struggling to decide between two guys when I met him -he almost didn't make the cut!!

The notes are all different and each carry their own distinctive clue to the mood of the day. Some are funny, some are serious, some are wildly stupid. Some are done with a dot matrix printer and clip art that makes me laugh. They are like small time capsules of my life. And I realized that my girls won't have anything like this. It's kind of strange to think that the hopes and dreams that they are sharing with their friends are lost in Facebook chat or a deleted text log. Not to mention that a typed message certainly doesn't hold the context, mood or feeling behind a message. There are no doodles, no puffy hearts and no Ziggy stickers.

I remember putting so much thought into most of my notes - I was forever drawing things around the borders, looking for perfect stickers and folding them just right for discreet passing in the classroom. I also remember getting in trouble for reading notes when I should've been working, hurting feelings by writing something down that got into the wrong hands and being embarrassed when my mom found a note from a boy talking about sex. The notes were good, but they could also be a tangible reference of ignorance and stupidity.

I didn't keep notes from friends, there were a few that got put inside a book along the way, but most were long since thrown away. I did keep all the letters and notes that I got from Hunk while we were in college. The very first letters were before we started dating, when I was trying to get his attention. It didn't seem to be working out too well, and he was in the desert for Operation Desert Storm/Strike war. I was still at school and I was casually dating other guys. I tried my best to get him to notice me before he was activated, but it just didn't pan out. I didn't give up and I sent him letters and care packages to the desert throughout his tour. Luckily, he started to catch on through my letter 'flirting'. He started writing back to me and our love developed through our letters. When he returned we were immediately 'together'. I have all those letters, stacked in order, and tied with ribbons stashed away with the many love notes that followed once we were officially dating. I don't really do anything with them, but on an off chance that I'm in our storage area I might pick one up and re-read it, bringing a wave of emotion and nostalgia....those letters can re-ignite the spark in a flash. Hunk can probably pinpoint the days I've come across an old love note by the way I ravage him when he walks through the door. It's definately a wonderful archive to have after 19 years together.

I think it's a sad thing that the 'note' is falling by the wayside while our kids send texts and hold conversations in chat. I suppose Facebook will be their memory lane, but I wonder how far back it saves -does your wall ever wipe clean? Is there an archive? I'm all about the electronic world, but this envelope just made me stop and think today. It also made me think about the fact that someday I'll be approaching 80 and since I don't write notes to Hunk any longer I guess I'll get nostalgic looking back at my blog while I float around on my hover chair.

Keeping it to myself

Putting words out on a blog can be a lot of different things to people. I have kept my blog somewhat anonymous because I like to use it at times to rant about people who annoy me, or situations that clearly I would handle in a much better way. I use my blog for both good and bad, but it's been pretty easy to just put anything out there since many of my readers are strangers. Some of my readers have turned into friends and aquaintances, but the majority are not people who would be affected personally by my everyday complaint.

Today, I wish my blog was totally anonymous - I want so bad to spill my guts and yet I know that the person who hath offended reads here. I feel so restrained because I want to share the situation, but I know that if I do it opens up a whole can of worms for me, not to mention that it could be hurtful for the other party to put it all out in the public. It's a fine line of deciding what to put out there and what to keep. Having a sounding board of readers, but not being able to use them feels paralyzing.

So, I'll just leave you with this......that whole thing, with them, and the others, it's very frustrating and I hate it. And I wish you could step back from yourself...and just realize.

Y'all have a good weekend - it's going to rain here, with big thunderstorms. Quite appropriate..

I went to Davelanta and all I got was a lousy VIRUS!

OK, not really a virus, though there was a lot of touching and sharing and such. Really, my computer pissed out on me and therefore I have been unable to post my wonderful experiences. It wasn't a virus, but more of a short circuit - which, in retrospect, fits the bill for my point that Davelanta was a mind altering experience.

I am sure you have all been there, seen that with the photos, but I do have one with the Almighty Dave and my Hunk, so I look like a ham sandwich. Not a bad place to be, except we had all been baking in Atlanta for the better part of the day. I even took the boys through Dillard's and encouraged them to be complimentarily (is that a word?) sprayed with Versace', but they didn't, they are boys. And I stand my ground, boys are weird. And I live with one. By choice.

They also did not choose to get their hair freshened up at the flat iron cart, but can you see how nice and smooth my hair is? Take THAT Atlanta humidity!! I am a very curly girl (think Monica in Barbados).

I really did have a great time and even met some new people. I'm a rather quiet girl, so while I should have jumped out of my shell and made some rounds at the table, I stayed in my seat like a loser and didn't get a lot of quality face time with some people. There were some wonderful people there, like Heather and Diana (who will soon be admitted into the Saints Hall of Fame for her selflessness), Anissa, Kim, Val, Muskrat & the Mrs. (who I hear may have fabric?, hello, I'm a total fabric hoarder, call me!) and Julie. Realistically, I had two pink lemonades of the alcoholic sort and I really could not get off of my stool, I'm not a total tool. I just can't hold my alcohol.

I'm still amazed that I ever agreed to meet up with total strangers, I'm more than a rather quiet girl, I'm ass backwards shy. But sometimes, it is so totally worth it to step out of your box!

Split Decision

On one hand I could blog about the babysitting experience I had. I survived, though I do have photos to prove that even after my miniature clean sweep the kid still found some small stuff and, yes, she ate it. Nothing swallowed. Crisis averted.

On the other hand, I could blog about blogging. And since blogging about kids tags you as a mommy blogger and will pretty much render you a bore in the blogosphere, I suppose that I should chose to blog about blogging. Can I type the word blog, just one more time?

Why do I blog? Honestly, I'm not completely sure. I don't enjoy writing, which seems to be the biggest reason for blogging - all the hopeful writers in anticipation that some big publication will notice them or that a book deal would fall in their lap. Definately not me. Others blog to get it all out, I can relate to that. The downfall is that in getting it all out in a public forum, you should probably know a bit about writing coherently. Again, not so much me. Some blog strictly in order to keep family and friends updated on the happenings of their lives. Still, not me. In fact, there is no one in my family that reads my blog. Not because they don't care, but because they just don't know about it. No, I don't have anything to hide really, but I just don't have the type of relationship with my family where I want them to read my thoughts. So, WHY? Why do I blog?

I started blogging a little over a year ago, and I've never been consistent. I've also not had many readers. Well, not many comments. I don't follow stats or anything, so I have no idea if anyone is reading this or not. I had hoped to meet some people through my blog. And I have met some wonderful people and had a lot of fun. It definately takes a new twist when you go on a trip and have someone to meet at the other end, someone that you would have otherwise never have known. That, in itself, is phenomenal. I read a ton of blogs, and I comment here and there, but I find it hard to call people friends when they don't know anything about me. I guess it is a lot of onesidedness? Is that the word? I read yours, but you don't read mine - how can you know anything about me? And I'm not complaining, it's not that anyone is rude or exclusive or anything like that, but I have this feeling like I'm back in high school and on the outside looking in. I feel like I know all of these people out there, but then you start to wonder if anyone would notice if you weren't there. KWIM?

I'm not trolling, but I guess I'm just envious that so many people have found others to "click" with in the blogosphere. I know for a fact that if I attended any event, meet up, whatever, that everyone is welcome and that there is not a cool crowd. I get it, most people are past that nonsense. But how many social relationships can one attend to? If you meet someone who already has 1,000 blogs to read and 4,000 emails a day where do you fit in? It's like joining in on a business at the bottom, everyone knows everyone (so it seems) and you are on the edge, interacting, contributing, playing a part, but does anyone really know you're there?

I guess it comes with time, that the more you read, the more you meet, the better chance you have of finding people that you click with. I love it when someone I read has multitudes of comments and lots of interaction with readers, I also then wonder how on earth they have the time to respond to all of those comments! I'm grateful in a way that I have a small amount of comments, that I can then read their blogs and feel like I know what is going on in their world. So, to answer my own question....Why do I blog? I want to meet new friends. I've connected with a very few bloggers on a more personal level and I am so grateful to know them. I don't have a lot of real life friends. Not because I'm a loser, but because I'm a loner. I have spent the better part of my life preferring to be alone. I'm getting past that. I want to meet people, I want to know people and I want people to know me.

I think a lot of folks go through this, because I've read people that say "I have not blogged in 2 months and no one even bothered to email me and see if I were still breathing!". I can totally relate. It's a cyberworld and you just can't see where people's heads are. You also are 1 in a crowd of millions, of course you can be overlooked and forgotten. Especially if you don't have anyone that you correspond with regularly. I think that is why it is so easy to feel like you aren't "in". So, I have no solution to fitting in with the blogosphere. I will continue to read others and I hope that others will continue to read me and perhaps, one day, some of us will connect in a way that is unique and I will know that if I were gone that I would be missed!

Skeptic

Have you ever had a friend that you really wanted to tell her something, but just knew that you couldn't?

I do.

I have a long time, great friend and I love her dearly. I can not stand her man and I can not tell her. This is killing me. They have been together for a few years and try as I might, I can't stand the guy. This doesn't keep us apart, but it makes it hard to want to do all the fun things like go out, go away or just stay in. But I can not tell her. See, there is nothing about this guy that makes me believe that he is mistreating her or cheating on her, etc. It is not that I get an immoral vibe, but that I just really think he is completely full of shit. I can not remember having one, not even one, conversation with this person where I felt like he was being honest and genuine. Not EVER.

When I talk to my friend we always talk about our guys and what they are up to, etc. and the things that she tells me that are going on in their lives are so unbelievably off the wall, I can't believe that she buys his crap. He is a first rate egomaniac and thinks that he is God's gift to the world - and he loves to talk about how much everyone just loves him and how he is the absolute best at, well, EVERYTHING. It is just really too much. The stories he tells are so incredibly outlandish that I can't see how anyone buys it. Perhaps my friend wants to focus on the positive and give him the benefit of the doubt, but I am amazed that she is blind to the steaming manure. If I were to believe even 1/4 of his stories, this man has been offered countless jobs with salaries higher than anyone I know, yet there is always a reason that the job is just not for him.

I suppose I am just a skeptic. I get it honest, though. My grandmother on the not so inbred side of my family doesn't trust anyone.ever.noway. She honestly thinks that everyone on earth is out to rip her off. This is a great trait to have since so many elderly people are preyed on, but she is downright nasty to folks. She doesn't trust the bank and I'd venture to say that if her house burned down so would all her money. She handed this skepticism down to my father and he has always told us to "do the research" on everything. He is pretty leary to most salespeople and 'new' fangled ideas. I get my loathing of salespeople from him. While I have finally met some salespeople on the up, I still have my doubts about a lot of them. I do think I read people pretty well, and if I get a weird vibe from someone at first meeting it is really hard for me to ever get past it.

So, back to my point, I got a weird vibe the first time I met my friend's man. I've questioned her on a lot of things, but never have come right out to say I just don't like him. They are married and it won't change anything if I do say it, other than to harm our friendship. So I suppose I should just deal with it.