All of the blogs that I read had pretty serious updates yesterday about the state of their lives. (The people's lives, not the blogs' lives. Blogs don't write themselves.)
I had a poem about a Kit-Kat.
I started this blog a few years ago without any sort of dedication and I wrote about songs and lemon bars and gummi bears. Oh and my ginormous head.
I've just realized that I *should* have been writing songs about lemon bars, gummi bears, and my ginormous head. That's a country music classic in the making... or maybe a dance club mix.
Then Nathan died and every post was so hard and heavy but super meaningful and important.
And now I'm trending more towards what it was when I began, and sometimes I feel like I should really talk about things that are more important, but it's really hard to write brilliant posts every day. Sometimes you have a day where nothing brilliant happens, and you just don't feel clever enough to make something up.
We are in the last 12 hours of me being tattoo free. It's happening Friday at 1. And then the era of mothers loving me inexplicably will end. Cause the reason why moms love me is my tattoo-free countenance, not my sweet personality and general similarity to themselves. One cannot be wholesome if they have a tattoo. It's a proven fact.
I jest. I'm hoping that moms still love me post-tattoo. (Especially my own.) It's not like I'm doing it on a lark or anything. I've thought and thought and thought about it. I've probably thought about it so much that I've over-thought about it and have made it all the way around to just thinking about it, again. And it's really meaningful to me... and it always will be.
And yes I realize this is like the third post I've made... or possibly the thirtieth post I've made, justifying it. But remember how I even want the Taliban to like me? Still true.
Crap. There is probably something in the Koran or the Taliban code that is against tattoos or women with tattoos, isn't there? You like how I just made up a rulebook for the Taliban?
It suddenly occurred to me that it's possible that I'm being super racist right now, and I don't even know it. I'm going to stop talking about this now.
I guess the thing is some people, when they know that someone isn't going to agree with them, get super defensive and belligerent. Suddenly if you disagree with their opinion then you are *wrong* and you suck and they are gonna LET YOU KNOW!
I go the other way. If I make a decision and I know that you aren't going to agree with me I bring my own judgement into question. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I should rethink this thing... maybe I suck! (ok honestly, I have enough self-worth to not think I suck. But it's more likely that than that you suck. That's not true at all.)
And I guess, to bring this blog back around full circle, that's why I thought that I should write something personal and deep about my life... because everyone else did, so that must be what I should do.
Or maybe I'll keep writing poems about Kit-Kats. (God bless William Carlos Williams and his easily manipulated poetry!)
The Red Kit-Kat Bar
so much depends
upon
a red Kit-Kat
bar
coated in a glossy
wrapper
beside the white
toaster.
Okay - so I'm not going to take on the Koran - b/c it is a sacred text to millions (billions?) of people and lots of people interpret it in different ways - many of which are peaceful and feminist and nice.
ReplyDeleteBUT - the Taliban including mostly horrible, horrible men. So I will generalize about them (and please don't confuse them with the victims they were dictators over - I'm sure those people were very nice and I feel very sorry for their rotten luck into being born in a place that came under Taliban rule).
To be fair: I will note one thing I'm pretty sure the Taliban and I disagree on and one thing we agree on.
The Taliban couldn't get to a place of noting that they disapproved of your tattoo - because you write a blog; the Taliban doesn't think women should read or write. So writing in your blog about how you hope they'll still like you despite your tattoo is counter-productive. Obviously, as I am writing a comment on your blog which I just read, this is the thing the Taliban and I disagree with.
However, pretty sure the Taliban and I agree that you shouldn't eat your friends' candy bars, even if they are sitting on your kitchen counter, as a throw-down to all the other candy bars sitting on your counter in the Renee's-kitchn-counter-candy-bar-arms-race. You upset the balance of power Renee!
AND - I realize now that I want a kit-kat.
Solution: come see me after you get your tattoo and let me see it (I'll peek under a bandage if need be) AND bring me a replacement kit-kat.
The end.
Oops meant "included" not "including" thus making that fragment an actual sentence that actually makes sense. Sorry!
ReplyDeleteOh - and I spelled kitchen wrong as well... but that kinda just makes the arms race sound like it's in a country song so maybe that's okay?