Speaking of Mini Series Blogs


The events of the past weekend have been above and beyond bizarre, hilarious, and insightful.
I know you must be sitting there, if you are, totally shocked.
That was sarcasm. I always have wanted a sarcasm button to text. Think about it. A sarcasm button over texts could have saved me an unwanted conversation or two, much less think of the relationship issues that could be avoided. Then there are all the times you want to be sarcastic, but worry the other will not realize, so you hold back, that inner sarcastic edge irritated to have missed a great opportunity. Just saying.
Anyways, I have decided I must blog the weekend events as a mini series, which is perfect, a mini series seems so daytime Soap Opera, or Lifetime, the silliest soft porn for women on the planet.
I know because I was addicted to Lifetime while pregnant with Kat.
Nine months of Lifetime, over and over, every freakin day.
Hmmm. Perhaps I should have been nicer to Divorcee, looking back, when he would walk into the other room and I would scream for him to come see what was going to happen to Jenny, who really was adopted by another family, and had been stolen!!!! It used to irritate the fire out of me that he would groan, quickly distract me or mumble he had to do this or that, or talk loudly, not caring about the plot. I think I was just hormonal, looking back.
If you catch this one Divorcee, I am sorry about that.
A mini series blog is like asking you to stay tuned to see if Marlena is really possessed by the devil, a clip from the next week showing you John doesn’t even care, coming to rescue her from Stefano without his shirt on.
Yes, I actually watched “Days of Our Lives” in high school. I was shocked to see years later I still knew the plot.
Actually, I take that back. I smoked cigarettes with a girl who watched “Days of Our Lives” when I would have been beheaded at my house for chillin in a bed, smoking, watching Day Time soft porn.
I just realized why my mom refuses to read my blog.
If you are reading this, my smoking “Days of Our Lives friend,” you better recognize.
I doubt she is. She doesn’t read. She lays in bed and watches horror films, or at least she did, until I saw thirteen years later, she had a relationship on face book. Maybe they do it together, rent three horror films a night, watch recordings of “Days of Our Lives,” during the day, before work, recorded by VHS.
I get people evolve, but not her. I bet she smokes Marlboro Lights, drinks Bud Light ONLY from the bottle, has dark lipstick and big breasts, rents movies, and hates the sun.
If you know this person, please guess below in the comment section!
I love getting and giving shout outs from these random characters in my life, especially when I have no idea if anyone reads these blogs, much less catches a clip of part of themselves while doing so.
I didn’t wonder ever, until recently, when people I don’t know very well would ask about Clyde, or how Lola did at school, and I give them this bizarre reaction, wondering if I have been stalked. I thought I was going nuts, a little,
especially with the Clyde thing.
“How the hell did he know he kept bees?” I would wonder about a coworker, asking how the dude I wasn’t screwing was doing, you know, the one you are in to, the one who kept bees. First of all, I can call myself out on not having a sex life, about to go off on him, but then I thought, stopped, dropped, and rolled.
Just kidding. I was too speechless. I had this unbelievable thought.
“OH MY GOD. HE READS MY BLOG.”
I went from anger to pure love and my heart felt physical joy go through my body that someone had even cared to read, especially a dude, and I even wondered if it had been forced upon him, so young, and then panic struck.
I know now why Auntie Sage has been quiet about my dating life.
It was my own mother who reminded me all the dirty details are all over the world wide web.
I forget this, seeing as I blog quickly to get it all out of my system, hit publish, go on with my life until that one moment when someone at work, who I know does horrible at side work, may be a good person but a liar about having been rolling silverware, will throw a line at me like, “If I were you at Dairy Queen, I wouldn’t have left until I got the right drink. You should have thrown it in his face.” I thought, “What an idiot.”
Wow. That guy has got to get off drugs was my next thought.
Then, it started happening a lot more. “Only You,” my friend D would sigh, dipping her chips like little flowers into her chip basket. The rest of us crush them in. I would think, “Only Me, What?”
Then, I had a girl from high school hunt me down to tell me about what to do about Clyde, or this, and then she asked if I minded writing about her. I still thought I was missing something, that people were acting strange.
Then D would respond with irritation when I would tell her very important information, which she would say,
“DUH, I read that one,” walking away like she is the Boss, which she is.
So, then, I started getting requests, and even old friends had been angry that they had not been acknowledged, all the time, I thought after I published my blog, with the new understanding it would connect to your face book and Twitter accounts, that I would delete it later.
I was certain no one would read it anyway.
To the people who acknowledge I am not writing to myself, out of pure release and therapy, thank you.
Thank you for showing me how much it means to have poured my life onto a blank page, raw and vulnerable, and being sent responses, for taking your own time to read my nonsense.
Thank you for showing me how much it means to me, to write, which I always have done, but to have an audience is the most blessed part of my life right now.
Oh my God. I totally got off track.
What was I writing about?
That is not going to be happening today, my plan, which I usually never have one.
Oh, so the point was that I went to a wedding of an old dear friend, met with my closest soul brothers and sisters from college, had the time of my life, and almost died there, stranded.
Almost being the key there, but even my family admits, it was definitely an option.
So, to truly capture the best material ever, a fact that life is stranger than fiction, I will have three blogs, I have decided. One on WHY I WENT to New Jersey, by plane, train, and automobile, completely alone, for the first time ever. The second blog will be about HOW i GOT to New Jersey and HOME, a blog that depending who you are or how well you know me, may be funny or strange.
Most my family members were mostly anxious, knowing what was possible, praying, with a sense of dread.
The third blog will be WHAT HAPPENED while I was in New Jersey, a dedication to my most beautiful friends I have loved since I stepped foot in Charleston, who have known me personally at a level no one else can.
And until then, it was nice chatting with you, I mean myself, because I totally sat down to write about a guy named George, a blog I was certain was going to be the best ever.
If you are reading George, you shouldn’t be. It is about your wedding, and I hope your wife has not killed you yet, and no, I refuse to give you a black pornstar blog name.
You are George, and I guess even I will have to wait to find out why.

One thought on “Speaking of Mini Series Blogs

  1. You rock, simple as that. Love your stories, can’t wait to read the book.

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