I picked up one of my favorite people at the airport yesterday.
I hadn’t seen her in ages and we had about an hour to cram in as much as we could.
And for me, intentional conversation and time limits make me sweat.
I usually need a little while to warm up.
But if I was only gonna get an hour I wanted more than to just talk about the weather or the flight or our favorite new songs.
But we did ok and conquered the vast assortment of conversational topics from ky to eulogies to the fact that maybe we never really get over it. Motherhood and girlfriends and losing passion. That it gets easier and that maybe that is enough and the best we can hope for. There were laughs, hugs, and swear words and our very own baggage claim. And she was even better than I remembered.
Twice she asked me if I was going to blog about this.
I told her probably not.
And I wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed.
Maybe both.
(and yes, I fully recognize that me blogging about why I’m not blogging about this pretty much defeats the point).
And this wasn’t the first time I’ve gotten that question.
Not even the first time this week.
It came up over dinner with my friend Julie a few weeks ago too.
And I’m not ever sure what the answer is supposed to be.
If friends are hoping I will or hoping I won’t.
And I’ve read a lot of really good blog disclaimers on the internet in the last few weeks and figure it is probably time to make a few of my own. (here is one of my favorite blogging disclaimers)
First. I don’t blog about everything. And even the stuff that does make it on here is always just the slightly public version. There is always more to the story. Sometimes I am trying to protect the people I am writing about. But more often, I am just usually trying to protect myself. And I almost never do things with the intent of blogging about it. (except for that one zumba class I took). If I don't live good stories I won't have any to tell. So really, I'm just trying to live and love well. And sometimes I end up writing about it. And sometimes I don't.
Last week for example, I got rear ended, had dinner with my friend Susan, played some crazy pranks at work, didn't get many papers graded, wanted to cry almost every night while Shaun was out of town because I was tired and felt really bad at it, my kid got in trouble almost every day at school and I wasn't sure how to deal with it, hurt my foot which meant I didn't get to race this weekend and probably about a dozen other things that I've already forgotten. And none of those things made it here or even to my facebook status.
And I don’t have some method or choosing what I write about. Usually it chooses me. There is a question or conversation or a moment that I can’t get it out of my head until I sit down and type. And you should also know that I do not process ANYTHING internally. Nothing gets solved, or sorted or understood in my own little head. Sometimes that process happens here. But not always. Plenty of things get worked out in living rooms, couches, kitchen tables, over phone calls, classrooms down the hall and coffee shops. And when I do write, there is no plan or outline or conclusion or whatever it is your highschool English teacher taught you. I just type until things start to make sense again. Or to remember. And sometimes I’m not even really sure exactly what it is I didn’t want to forget until I’ve read what I wrote.
And just because I don’t write about something doesn’t mean it wasn’t significant. Some of the most significant moments and people get very little air time here. That is honestly why I told my friend karly that there likely wouldn't be a blog post. Some things are just mine and I don't want to share them. So sometimes I hang out with friends and write about it and hit post. Sometimes I hit save. And there are all kinds of things on my computer that will never make it onto my blog. And sometimes I just send a long rambling email or text instead. And sometimes I’m just present. I’m the girl laughing and listening and interrupting rather than the girl who is taking notes or pictures, trying to spin every moment into a blog post. Not everything is material. Nor should it be.
And the online version of me isn’t the same as the real life me. Here I get to be edited (although poorly and often spelled wrong) and chosen. And I assure you I am open and honest and authentic in this space. But I also get to pick and choose. And if you read my blog for an hour and hung out with me for an hour you wouldn’t get the same girl.
Not that I try to present a different persona or fake….my heart is always the same….but because some things are just easier for me in writing.
Here you get a girl that talks about God pretty easily. In real life I might be more likely to talk about sex.
Here I use the word love a lot. In real life, I use a lot of other 4 letter words with much more frequency.
Here I like to talk about poverty and justice and service, but in real life that is something I only physically do on the occasional weekend. Turns out I spend more time at Target than I do helping people.
Here I show videos of my kids dancing in the living room. In real life, we watch far more cartoons than we dance.
Here, more often than not I get to some kind of point, in real life I talk in circles and rarely finish the stories I start…..but might tell you 4 others in the process.
Here I get to remember the highlights. The warm, big intense moments, in real life there are a thousand more ordinary moments that get edited out.
And sometimes I worry that people who read my blog and then get to know me are disappointed with the real life version of me.
With the girl that shows up slightly hung over for coffee than with her bible or ten books for you to read (ok, that last part might be true).
Or the girl that has a hard time spitting out compliments and giving hugs than the one who so easily writes them into this space.
With the girl that is more likely to tell you a funny story or embarrass herself, than talk about any real issues.
But if I had to pick. I’d rather give you the real version. The kind that spits out her drink when she laughs too hard and looks at her shoes when someone says nice things. I'd rather have real coffee than virtual coffee. I’d rather spend 1000 ordinary moments with someone than read their blog post.
And so back to the original question....
if we are hanging out in real life.
Am I going to blog about this?
probably not.
but i might. It is rarely my intent.
and i'll let you know in advance if I do. (unless I am married to you)
and you always have full veto power. (unless I am married to you, kidding)
but until then, can we just go back to laughing a lot and worry about the rest later...........
I hadn’t seen her in ages and we had about an hour to cram in as much as we could.
And for me, intentional conversation and time limits make me sweat.
I usually need a little while to warm up.
But if I was only gonna get an hour I wanted more than to just talk about the weather or the flight or our favorite new songs.
But we did ok and conquered the vast assortment of conversational topics from ky to eulogies to the fact that maybe we never really get over it. Motherhood and girlfriends and losing passion. That it gets easier and that maybe that is enough and the best we can hope for. There were laughs, hugs, and swear words and our very own baggage claim. And she was even better than I remembered.
Twice she asked me if I was going to blog about this.
I told her probably not.
And I wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed.
Maybe both.
(and yes, I fully recognize that me blogging about why I’m not blogging about this pretty much defeats the point).
And this wasn’t the first time I’ve gotten that question.
Not even the first time this week.
It came up over dinner with my friend Julie a few weeks ago too.
And I’m not ever sure what the answer is supposed to be.
If friends are hoping I will or hoping I won’t.
And I’ve read a lot of really good blog disclaimers on the internet in the last few weeks and figure it is probably time to make a few of my own. (here is one of my favorite blogging disclaimers)
First. I don’t blog about everything. And even the stuff that does make it on here is always just the slightly public version. There is always more to the story. Sometimes I am trying to protect the people I am writing about. But more often, I am just usually trying to protect myself. And I almost never do things with the intent of blogging about it. (except for that one zumba class I took). If I don't live good stories I won't have any to tell. So really, I'm just trying to live and love well. And sometimes I end up writing about it. And sometimes I don't.
Last week for example, I got rear ended, had dinner with my friend Susan, played some crazy pranks at work, didn't get many papers graded, wanted to cry almost every night while Shaun was out of town because I was tired and felt really bad at it, my kid got in trouble almost every day at school and I wasn't sure how to deal with it, hurt my foot which meant I didn't get to race this weekend and probably about a dozen other things that I've already forgotten. And none of those things made it here or even to my facebook status.
And I don’t have some method or choosing what I write about. Usually it chooses me. There is a question or conversation or a moment that I can’t get it out of my head until I sit down and type. And you should also know that I do not process ANYTHING internally. Nothing gets solved, or sorted or understood in my own little head. Sometimes that process happens here. But not always. Plenty of things get worked out in living rooms, couches, kitchen tables, over phone calls, classrooms down the hall and coffee shops. And when I do write, there is no plan or outline or conclusion or whatever it is your highschool English teacher taught you. I just type until things start to make sense again. Or to remember. And sometimes I’m not even really sure exactly what it is I didn’t want to forget until I’ve read what I wrote.
And just because I don’t write about something doesn’t mean it wasn’t significant. Some of the most significant moments and people get very little air time here. That is honestly why I told my friend karly that there likely wouldn't be a blog post. Some things are just mine and I don't want to share them. So sometimes I hang out with friends and write about it and hit post. Sometimes I hit save. And there are all kinds of things on my computer that will never make it onto my blog. And sometimes I just send a long rambling email or text instead. And sometimes I’m just present. I’m the girl laughing and listening and interrupting rather than the girl who is taking notes or pictures, trying to spin every moment into a blog post. Not everything is material. Nor should it be.
And the online version of me isn’t the same as the real life me. Here I get to be edited (although poorly and often spelled wrong) and chosen. And I assure you I am open and honest and authentic in this space. But I also get to pick and choose. And if you read my blog for an hour and hung out with me for an hour you wouldn’t get the same girl.
Not that I try to present a different persona or fake….my heart is always the same….but because some things are just easier for me in writing.
Here you get a girl that talks about God pretty easily. In real life I might be more likely to talk about sex.
Here I use the word love a lot. In real life, I use a lot of other 4 letter words with much more frequency.
Here I like to talk about poverty and justice and service, but in real life that is something I only physically do on the occasional weekend. Turns out I spend more time at Target than I do helping people.
Here I show videos of my kids dancing in the living room. In real life, we watch far more cartoons than we dance.
Here, more often than not I get to some kind of point, in real life I talk in circles and rarely finish the stories I start…..but might tell you 4 others in the process.
Here I get to remember the highlights. The warm, big intense moments, in real life there are a thousand more ordinary moments that get edited out.
And sometimes I worry that people who read my blog and then get to know me are disappointed with the real life version of me.
With the girl that shows up slightly hung over for coffee than with her bible or ten books for you to read (ok, that last part might be true).
Or the girl that has a hard time spitting out compliments and giving hugs than the one who so easily writes them into this space.
With the girl that is more likely to tell you a funny story or embarrass herself, than talk about any real issues.
But if I had to pick. I’d rather give you the real version. The kind that spits out her drink when she laughs too hard and looks at her shoes when someone says nice things. I'd rather have real coffee than virtual coffee. I’d rather spend 1000 ordinary moments with someone than read their blog post.
And so back to the original question....
if we are hanging out in real life.
Am I going to blog about this?
probably not.
but i might. It is rarely my intent.
and i'll let you know in advance if I do. (unless I am married to you)
and you always have full veto power. (unless I am married to you, kidding)
but until then, can we just go back to laughing a lot and worry about the rest later...........
Comments