But there are a couple of things I need to get off my chest.
Saturday, my mom was asking about my blog, and whether it would be a good thing if she read it. I told her no, knowing that there are a few things she might come across that would hurt her feelings. It had nothing to do with loving her and everything to do with wanting to protect her from the things I have said in frustration that I needed to spit out. And they landed here.
I once thought that the discovery of my blog by those who knew me might be the end of the world. Especially for people I have ranted about. Then C found it, and read it, and we talked about it. It healed a rift in our friendship and I would say that while we are not as close as we were, I think we are as close as we can be seeing as how our relationship is no longer intimate. I was lucky that time. c and I were able to discuss things. Would I be so fortunate with my mom?
At the time, when we were discussing it, it came up that my sister reads. As does my cousin. and a few of my friends. Suddenly, it seemed unfair to exclude my mother from these things when it appears that anyone else can be allowed to peek.
There are few things I dislike more in this world than to be excluded.
I wondered if perhaps I should go back and edit out those frustrated posts. But I think that sometimes, when I am most anguished, I express myself best. (sometimes not) And this, being an online journal type thing, would be severely diminished if I edited for the feelings of others. But then, how is that different than the things I hold back for privacy? Writing instead in my paper journal?
This is a matter I think a lot of bloggers go through. I am certainly not going to pretend I am the first to struggle with it.
And who knows? maybe she will understand. I'm sure I have upset her on more than one occation. Perhaps it would teach me to be more tolerant and not go spouting off to the internet every time I get a bee in my bonnet.
Part of what got me thinking was the overwhelming sense of love and appreciation for my mom that I was hit with on Sunday. Without her, I wouldn't be. She deserves every bit of love and kindess.
On a differnt subject completely, I hate my bras. they don't fit and I can't seem to get them clean. Even fresh off the doorknob they feel dirty. I think I am done shopping for them at Victoria's Secret. Sadly, no one else seems to carry my size except in pointyboob granny styles and up, I'm far too young to be wearing those. You would think that with the popularity of fake breasts that there would be more options for the giftedly endowed.
On a whole nother subject, I am working on meeting people before I go to Reno. I have contacted crafty folk and signed up for Yahoo Personals. I know. I swore off internet dating. Whatever, I can change my mind if I want to and it seems like a good way to get to know people before I arrive. I'm feeling guilty though. You see, while I try not to exclude anyone from my list of possibilities based on heritage, the truth of the matter is that I tend to be attracted to the same sort of men so when men outside of that general appearance contact me, I feel bad rejecting them on account of no attraction. I worry that it makes me racist. And then I realize that i am. Because I feel guilty rejecting a black man because I am not attracted to him, but not a white guy. But maybe I am not because if a black man I was attracted to were to contact me and be a good match, I would not reject him. I'm willing to step outside the box for the right fella. (I am only using black men as an example) I should just be pleased that guys are looking. I know I am very pleased that the men who have looked so far are interested in a woman who is not a stick figure. AND, I am not getting all wound up when a man doesn't reply to my inquiries. So, good for me. Ok, back to work.