life according to me

life according to me

Middle Aged Anomaly Tucks in Ass Each Morning

I click “Write” on my WordPress dashboard, waiting for the spinning wheel that is my brain to slow knowing that it won’t and that focusing on a single stream of steady thought on any one idea will seem impossible.

No, be impossible.

In 20 minute’s time, I’ve gone from thinking about working out a recipe for apple cinnamon nut ice cream, to worrying about the huge bowl of bread dough I have fermenting in the fridge, then mulling over tonight’s debate between Palin and Biden before reading through most of this Slate article and being completely distracted by a list linked inside that article. Or maybe it was somewhere else on the page…can’t remember.

I don’t normally spend my time reading these types of articles, but once in a while, one will catch my eye because the writing is good and it actually feels as if there’s a person behind that writing. Quite a concept, yes?  Aspects of it will get me thinking, of course, and the entire time, somewhere hovering above it all (at least today) are Natalie Goldberg’s words about writers I scanned over this morning in the bathroom:

Writers live twice.  They go along with their regular life, are as fast as anyone in the grocery store, crossing the street, getting dressed for work in the morning.  But there’s another part of them that they have been training.  The one that lives everything a second time.  That sits down and sees their life again and goes over it.  Looks at the texture and details.

Okay, so Natalie, I haven’t been “training” because that would imply that this living twice business is something I choose to do.  You don’t choose it.  “It” chooses you.  For example, not only have I thought about what I’ve described just now, but I’ve thought about it many times since, and am now thinking about it again.  And yet again when revising this paragraph.  Still thinking…

I do this all day long.

It’s like watching myself live my life and even though it’s odd, it provides me quite a bit of time to think about how and why I do what I do.  As much as I can say there’s a soothing (insane) aspect to it, unfortunately it doesn’t lend itself to improving my productivity.  Bills are sitting in front of me, there are quite a few piles of recipes I’ve torn from magazines ready to be recycled sitting in the middle of my family room floor (where they’ve migrated after being on the kitchen counter for several days), and I need to get off my derrier to go for a walk today.

But I’ve arrived at the conclusion that the bloggosphere can be quite the brutal place — at times, what I imagine it would feel like to go through a carwash without my car, each spray of water or rotating brush pushing me first one way, and then another and never quite making it to the end.

I’m tired of it but have no one to blame but myself.  I think much of it stems from the fact that who I am and what I have to say here doesn’t exactly fit anywhere.  This conclusion isn’t earth-shattering, nor is it meant to be accompanied by a whine. I don’t whine.  I have been known to climb up on a soapbox and metaphorically flip the world the bird, however — just not as much as I used to.

*sigh*

I am a middle-aged woman.  That I enjoy who I am at this particular point in my life doesn’t really change the fact that I’m somewhat of an oddity in the Bloggosphere.  Sometimes, it’s overwhelming to be surrounded by twenty and thirty somethings with toddlers, techies with jargon I never completely understand, snarling, snarking political junkies, celeb gossip mongers, and the increasingly less than attractive you-too-can-make-money-at-home crowd.

I’m an anomaly.  And I guess that’s the most annoying part of this since I always have been, so why should my persona here be less so?  One would think I’d get used to being reminded that I’ve always been a square peg.

I have no stories to tell about my toddlers, my Satanical boss, my commute, my gigabytes, and there is no way in hell I could ever sit down here and try to be funny every freaking day because people want a cheap laugh.  But I’m also not going to wallow in the bathos of my life (liar, liar, pants on fire…), lamenting about mistakes and missed opportunities. No, really.

What I will do is continue to look in the mirror each day, and after taking more than the normal minute or so to scan my body and realize it doesn’t exactly look like it used to even five years ago, suck in my stomach, tuck in my ass, smile and know that I am me.  Still.

Sounds like a warning, doesn’t it?

Heh.



10 thoughts on “Middle Aged Anomaly Tucks in Ass Each Morning”

  • What can Isay? You are a complex human being. Keep writing (along with blogging) and you will find that you do have something to share. Something with which others can relate or empathize, or not. Blah blah blah. Write about what you know. Be fearless!

  • Age is just a number… You are an awesome writer and have a lot to say about many things. Keep doing what you are passionate about! How’s the hair cut today?? 🙂

  • And you must continue to do so. The only blogs I have been routinely reading from the very beginning, since Nov. 2004 when I first stepped away from live journal to write in private..lol… were blogs by people who really didn’t have some kind of actual blogging goal. Some of them have a idea of what they are doing, some do not, some write prose behind locked pass worded doors, and some write once every six months, but whatever it is about them that makes me keep reading them, it is the same thing you have.

    They are not boring.

    That is something one can’t say for most of the millions of blogs out there.

    A blog only serves a purpose if the purpose is yours.

  • Yes, Ritzy, that is so true. But sometimes, it does help to stop and think about whether you’re up to it all. Our society isn’t geared toward those of us who have more than a few decades under our belts, and the idea of accumulated wisdom sounds great, but only as long as someone is willing to listen. Sometimes, it truly seems that there isn’t much of that people are capable of doing, let alone able to engage in. It’s depressing. But I agree with you about passion. It is truly something I will never take for granted. The hair is darker, but alas, not red. I’ll continue to work on that, too. 🙂

    Ah, cooper. Thank you. I do agree about purpose, but struggle with the idea that I am incapable of choosing anything here to focus upon. It is about me, and that’s quite a lot. No gimmick. No outcome. No whatever it is that everyone else has. There are a lot of words, however. Maybe that’s what this is all about. Words.

  • Kelly you could write about DISH TOWELS and I would read it, and hang on to every word….because of the WAY you would write about DISH TOWELS.

    I don’t want you to tell me stories about toddlers, (ALTHOUGH I do remember a post you wrote a LONG time ago that involved a photo of a parkinglot FULL OF STROLLERS…which was hysterical) I don’t want to read stories about you Satanical boss (because I have other blogs to read pertaining to that) I have read stories about your “commute” as in your walks in the morning and they are GRAND. I certainly do NOT want to read about your gigabytes because I wouldn’t have a clue what you were talking about. And THANK GOD you DONT sit down here and try to be funny every freaking day because people want a cheap laugh. You make me LAUGH for REAL.

    So. Um. Yeah. That being said, I am ready for that particular ‘Brand’ Of KellyPea

  • Ahh, meleah. I’m thinking about a complete makeover. Not just a theme change. Thanks for always confirming that I don’t have to have a point. (sounds hilarious, actually!) What a luxury, right? Just blather along without a care in the world. At least I’m not writing recipes here which is sort of like having to stand at the copy machine. Truly. I know because I’ve had to do it quite a bit. *rolls up sleeves* And now to brand “kellypea.” As my son would say, “Oh Noes.”

  • I’m fascinated by your blog. I can’t even tell you how I ended up here, but I’m glad I did. Question – you refer to a food blog, but I can’t find a link so I can check it out.

    Comment – I moved from So Cal to West Virginia last January. I thought your pictures looked familiar. I was born and raised in Redondo Beach but my family was the only piece of my family that moved, so in a way, moving to WV is like coming home. It’s not So Cal, but I haven’t missed California one day since I moved to the green hills of WV. Boy can I ‘talk’ – seriously, can you give me a link to the other blog? Thanks.

  • “Just blather along without a care in the world..”

    I think you have MANY cares in the world and I like when you get all heated about those cares…

    Well….Good luck with the complete ‘makeover’ You know now matter what I’ll be right here reading all of your words.

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