Now that I am internationally known, (just picked up one in Greece), I feel I need to represent. I need to walk the walk, not just "talk the talk", right? I need to look like a real blogger. What is my identity? What is my hook? Am I the female Hank Moody? I just keep coming back to the fact that I am no one. I am just a person who likes to write who might or might not have a good sense of humor. Period. No more, no less. I love that line in "When Harry Met Sally" when Carrie Fisher says, "Everyone thinks that they have a good sense of humor and good taste, but the reality is, that they can't possibly have both."
I like the idea that even if you do not like my story, I may have a bit of advice you might heed. In turn, if you like the story but do not like the recommendation, you still have gotten something for your time. What is it that the Colombians relate to? They had 23 post views last week. What is their life like? Why are they interested? What do we have in common? The only thing that I can think of, is that we must have the same sense of humor. It is not like they can run to the Columbian T.J.Maxx and pick up the body scrub I just recommended. They are not able to try the Giant Eagle Supasto' Broccoli and Jack Cheese soup that I am obsessed with. So what? They must relate to my stories in some way and that is mind blowing to me.
I live a lot of my life inside of my head, which I think most writers do. I react to things in my life on several levels, which I think everyone does. You have the reaction level, which is visceral. There is the emotional level. And finally, there is the intellectual level. My friend goes to a therapist (crazy Beeaaccchh) who was able to elaborate on all of this, and he believes that a person has a feeling first, and then the thought that follows that feeling, and then they react. I think that the same is true about me, I just have the reaction first and not last.
My mom just bought me a Vera Bradley computer travel case for my laptop. It is BE-U-TI-FUL. I was shopping with her and the kids in Louisville, over Spring Break, and I was just yammering at my kids for being so spoiled because she had just purchased matching Janie and Jack swimsuits (with accompanying cover ups and accessories, natch.) They no sooner turned the corner, than they were whining about needing sleeves for their ITouches and begging for change to put in the fountain.
The guy at the Kiosk was happy to accommodate them as he saw that I was under duress. Therefore, I ended up buying them protectorants for their ridiculously expensive toys.
"You're spoiled," I whispered as he swiped my credit card which delivered my number to the guys in Colombia.
Sooooo, we are finally leaving because my Mom is about to burst because she needs another dialysis treatment, and we pass this cool luggage store that we both like. The girls start going crazy about the Vera Bradley stuff. I spy this one case that does not have a handle and is really just a cover for a laptop and complain loudly that I just received one I bought off of Ebay and that it sucks. Then, I see this awesome quilted, flowered laptop travel case with a strap and handles and pockets and everything!
My Mom instinctively recognizes my, "Oh My God, I have to have this!" face and offers to buy it for me, for my birthday.
Unfortunately, I had already picked out and purchased (yes, Brad gave me shit) this adorable wipe-clean, preppy, extra large cosmetic travel case. It is HUGE. with bright green polka dots adorned with my Hot Pink initials on the front. It fits all my skin care, makeup, AND any blow dryers or curling irons! It is SWEET.
Brad monitors my purchases from work (Thanks Huntington online banking) and he threw a fit. I reminded him that he had broken the handles on my last cosmetic travel case that I had owned since I was in college and that "MY MOM IS PAYING ME FOR IT FOR MY BIRTHDAY GIFT, OKAY? GAWD!"
"How 'bout I buy this for you because your writing is so important to you and everything," Mom says, taking the case from me, "and then I will not have to pay you for your cosmetics bag?" she teases as I ponder the consequences.
Being the shrewd and manipulative daughter and wife that I am, I respond, "Are you sure? It is more expensive. But, you don't have to."
"No. I want to," my Mom rolls her eyes and pulls out her wallet.
"Mom! Mom!" my middle daughter, Mills, is tugging at my shirt and looking up at me.
"What?" I say, irritated that she is invading my peaceful, pre-purchase euphoria.
"Now, who is the spoiled one?" she cackles that uncertain laugh of hers because she is afraid that that I am going to take it wrong and wring her neck.
The Vera Bradley laptop case is one of my favorite things I own. I hope I have the nerve to lug that thing to the pool this year as I while away the hours, charging it up at the snack shack, blogging while I soak my feet in the baby pool (Brad). It is a very real fantasy of mine and I think I can make it a reality. The cosmetics case I found at WhitneyCarolineDesigns.com. It is $56 and worth every penny.
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