I can't even remember anymore. There are two things I love about my "blog" or "journal" or whatever it is. At least I started it before it became the "cool" thing to do. And at least it's still on this gay "livejournal" site and not "blogspot" or wherever it is that all the cool people do it. I mean, why does it matter which site it's on? Or what it's called? I see all these names for people's blogs and it makes me want to come up with a cool little catchphrase so I can parade my blog around as funnier, but.. I just can't think of a good one. Sorry for partying.
Maybe in this one post I can try to accomplish all three of the normal blog stereotypes. First, funny. Second, annoying. (Maybe already got that one?) Third, meaningful. Tight. Let's go.
I'll start out with a story. My life is full of funny stories. I've got gay college stories, crazy high school stories, and childhood memory stories. I think today it's time for a little childhood reminiscing. My grandpa can't get mad about being on my blog because he's dead. When he was alive and semi-tight, he owned a cottage in Wisconsin. My family would visit during the summer. I have three older sisters and one older brother, for those of you readers (who don't exist) who don't know. Being the youngest and the prettiest, I always wanted attention. And I got it, dammit! And I still do..
No, but, my grandpa was legitimately as crazy as I was. I had major ADD issues and definitely went out of control almost every day. (And I still do..?) My grandpa had major control issues and definitely went out of control because I went out of control almost every day. (Maybe he still does, too.) So, one time, I actually don't really remember why, but we were at the cottage and I had my grandpa's keys. I think he wanted them back? Probably. I was probably running away yelling at him and waving them around at him and being a little brat. Standard. Anyway, he said something mean, and I freaked out. But what did I do?
I let him get as close to me as about five feet away and then spit in his face.
HA. That shit went out of control fast. All I really remember is my grandpa threatening me and my mom and my mom maybe saying she would never come back to the cottage again if my grandpa abused his grandchildren? And wow was I pleased with myself. Bad, bad kid. It's okay, mom. I really am sorry. Just wait until I have kids and they're worse. I'll deserve it, I know.
Now I'm supposed to be annoying? Meh. Okay. This is going to piss me off every time I look at my blog now. I hate misspelling words. Abhor it might be a better way to say it. You misspell words? I judge you. How hard is it to look something up?! Most common mistakes that I judge: "your" and "you're" - "then" and "than" - "there" and "their" - etc. I know it's dumb. I misspell things, too. I do. I know. But at least then I try to correct things after I do it. And just.. ugh. There are just people that it's obvious that they don't even realize they're spelling it wrong. GAY.
What's next? Meaningful? Alright. I'll try.
My life has changed so much in the past year. Last year I was with a closeted gay man, leading a group I didn't enjoy anymore, and dealing with so much grief from some of my friends that it was comfortingly overwhelming knowing that other people were going through as much pain and loss or more as I felt like I was. I broke so many of my promises to myself and to other people, as well. That I wouldn't lie to those people who were closest to me. That I would never put another person's happiness over my own. That I wouldn't make other people's life choices for them anymore. That I wouldn't cry.
Well, the year sucked. It was worth it. I wouldn't trade any of the hardships that happened to me this year for anything. I learned how to love someone more than I loved myself. I learned how to talk to people who are grieving over murder and not push them away from me or hurt them badly. I learned what to expect out of friends and what friends will live up to those expectations fully. I learned that lying to someone and to myself can sometimes be the best thing for both of you.
I also learned that life can go how you never expect it to, and that life as a rule almost inevitably will. It hates being predictable. So do I, so I totally understand. I got to understand a lot of things about pain, but the best part was learning how to understand even more about myself. Isn't that what going through the shit in life is for? To come out on the other side more prepared for the shit the next time? Maybe not.
I wrote a dumb little "25 things about me" at the end of last year where I talked about how I was one of the most sensitive people I knew and that most people were just unaware of my sensitivity. I'm pretty sure multiple people commented on it and laughed.. snidely, of course. How could the "rude Overtone" be sensitive to people's feelings when he calls most men gay (who obviously aren't!) and tells people how it is without caring how they feel about what he's saying half the time?
My prideful self wants to list the ten or twenty things that I've done in the past year that require more sensitivity than people would expect from me or know how to give themselves, but what's the point? I want to list why and how they've helped me grow and how I was still sensitive before and how now I'm even more sensitive, but what's the point? I'm sure for every sensitive thing I've done, I've done something just as insensitive and cruel. Hey, it happens. We all make mistakes. And because I like to make big choices, lots of times with a big risk factor included, I make a lot of big mistakes. But I also have big successes.
People believe what they want out of you pretty much no matter what you say. Some people will look at these last paragraphs and consider them just as full of shit as the rest and some will think that they're genuine. It will probably depend on whether those people actually know about the things I've done or if they don't at all and think it's just some lame little explanation for how I give myself self-confidence. It could be a little bit of both. But the list of people that have changed my life in the past year and meant a lot to me is not about shit or my self-confidence. I want them to know (if they read this at all) that they're important to me.
And duh.. all of Westport! I love you.