Oh Karen. When I asked Karen of A Day in the Life… One Glass at a Time to guest post for me, I knew she wouldn’t disappoint me. What I was NOT expecting was to receive her email in the middle of dinner with another bloggerand her wonderful family, and to have tears spring to my eyes, all during a moment where I was already feeling so loved, so lucky, and so happy (which may have been with Vodka’s help but I dont think so) after feeling pretty shitty less than an hour before (which I KNOW was with Vodka’s help). Karen, I can never eloquently explain what your words mean to me. They were just what I needed and you will forever be a source of happiness to me. Thank you. Thank you so much.
When our Miss here asked me to guest blog, my reaction was, “Who me? But of course, whoot!” I can let the “fucks” fly and change my crap to “shit” and people will rejoice, and even embrace it.”
But then the pressure mounted. Uh, heh, Miss has a discriminating audience who are used reading hilarious posts, poignant posts, and seeing her beauty in form (do you know a more gorgeous gal?) and even more so in her words. Me, well I’m certainly past my prime. Miss, she writes the truth, never shying away from it. She reviews pretty vibrators. I review Swiffer dusters and because I don’t clean, I feel like a fraud.
Um-kay, so how do I fit in here?
Not that I’m a liar. It’s just that in my own little part of the blog universe, things tend to be a little sugar-coated. I wear my momblogger hat well, and ramble ad nauseum about my children and barf and shit. Not always the most interesting stuff.
So for this honour, I looked to myself for inspiration. I asked myself to be open and honest.
I looked in my old diary.
I found it the other day while sorting through my daughter’s clothes in preparation for the change in season. Buried under last year’s size 3T summer shorts and t-shirts was my diary entitled “A woman’s notebook: being a blank book with quotes by women”.
What I found inside was a fascinating evolution of a love affair, in my very own words.
Years 1 – 3:
“I’m not denyin’ the women are foolish: God almighty made ‘em to match the men”– George Eliot
“It is such a unique feeling to be so happy. I’ve spent so much of my life being anxious, worried and nervous.”
“I want to melt with him”.
“I don’t want to lose this. It’s something good that I have to work to keep. I’ve resolved to do this.
Years 4 – 5:
Love’s a disease. But curable. – Rose Macaulay, English writer.
The pain of love is the pain of being alive. It’s a perpetual wound – Maureen Duffy, English writer.
“I know he loves me. I just hope it’s enough for me.”
“If he’s not the one then we should end it now before it gets much, much worse. He’s never going to find anyone as devoted to him as I am, but it looks like that’s not really what he wants. That’s the whole shame of it all. “
And that was the last entry, written over 18 years ago.
Damn I was good. A bit cliché, but good.
Reading these entries made me cry. Even though I married the guy and we’re sharing a great life together, reliving this makes me want to smack him. For him to inspire such glorious heights of passion and then such depths of sorrow…but I won’t. He just made me a really nice steak dinner with a lovely glass of red wine. Yeah, he’s still got it.
Maybe I’m PMS’ing (and just so you know, Always, your review is next). But that’s not it.
It’s the power of the word.
And this is what I find here, on Just Miss. This is what draws me back, time and again.
Keep it passionate. Keep it real.
I know you’ll find the right guy who’ll make you an even better steak dinner.
You’re beautiful inside and out.