Book Recommendation: Let's Pretend This Never Happened

Jenny Lawson (also known as The Bloggess) wrote a book called Let's Pretend This Never Happened.

It came out this past Tuesday and is a (more or less) true memoir of her life to date. She talks about growing up way less than privileged in a rural West Texas town. She describes a childhood with a father who randomly decided to become a taxidermist (and ended up being really good at it) and who also had a penchant for bringing home random wild animals (like bobcats, or turkeys he insisted were quails) to join the family as pets.

If you are aware of her or her blog, you also know that she suffers from depression and all kinds of anxiety. She discusses that in her book as well, in a frank and amusing manner, because it is part of who she is and she has learned to be fine with who she is. She also wants people to know about this stuff so that they can recognize it in others (and either be supportive and helpful to those others or avoid them at all costs per their discretion). Don't get me wrong, she discusses some painful and unpleasant moments from her life, right along with the good stuff. But she still somehow manages to inject humor into those moments. It's a dark humor, sure, but humor all the same. She got me to laugh at a situation that I have never been able to laugh at (can barely even talk about because something similar also happened to me and usually thinking about it happening to anyone just makes me want to cry). That's worth the price of admission right there.

I'm only about a third of the way through, but I can already tell you that it is fantastic. There is a chapter dealing with her time working in HR and all of the weird crap she had to put up with in that job. You can find an excerpt of that chapter here. But when I got just past the bit I had already read before on her website, I hit a bit that had me laughing so freaking hard I had to get up and walk away from the book because I couldn't even finish reading the sentence anyhow, and also, I was getting close to blacking out from the lack of breathing because of the aforementioned laughing.

She's on tour right now and will be in Dallas next Thursday. I'm going. By myself even, because her discussions of her anxiety makes me feel like maybe I should just suck it up and stop being so damn shy. See, she's good therapy, too. Also, I feel like I should make her a present, because this is woman who needs all the hugs in the world for many, many reasons. I shall have to think on what that present should be though.

I want to give this book to every woman I know, it is so wonderful and wrong and awesome. Mother's Day is coming up too, now that I think of it. If you know a mom who can handle some colorful language, hey, this might make a good gift. So, if you are looking for something interesting to read, hey, look, here's a great suggestion. You're welcome.

No, seriously. You're welcome.

Just make sure that you're not operating any heavy machinery or anything when you pick it up.

It Keeps Me Young

I am by no means in the age range that most people would consider "old" but more and more lately I find myself reminded of the fact that I am in my thirties, and that isn't exactly young. As much as I know that I am a fundamentally different person than who I was a decade ago in a lot of ways, I don't really feel any different. Getting married and having a kid were both huge lifetime milestones that I felt should have changed everything about the way I look at the world and about how I perceive myself in relation to it. And yes, in some ways, they did, but throughout I still very much feel like me, like I haven't changed at all. It's funny that something so big just becomes your new normal so quickly and it becomes hard to remember just how different life really felt before it happened.

I mean, as much as my days revolve around my daughter and spending time with her and taking care of her, I don't ever really feel in my mind like what I expect a mom should feel like. Every once in a while I'll be doing something with Baby Girl, or I'll just get a glimpse of her making some face or discovering something new, and I'll be completely bowled over by the realization that this is my child. That my husband and I made her, that she wouldn't exist had my life not unfolded as it has. And that I am responsible for making sure she has every chance of growing up safely and happily and becoming a good person and a member of this crazy world we live in. It's a bizarre feeling. It's not like I ever forget that I'm a parent or anything, it's just that it's so much a part of my life I don't even ever think about it. So when I do, I am hit with a huge feeling of awe and wonder (and more than a little amazement that I've been entrusted with such a huge responsibility).

It seems like every day when I look in the mirror, the signs are there that I am getting older. More grey in my hair every day, and I've started to notice lines around my eyes and face. My body definitely doesn't have as much get-up-and-go as it did ten years ago. But none of that stuff bothers me. It surprises me from time to time, certainly, but I have no problem with aging naturally. I am not going to dye my hair to cover up the grey (I am actually kind of curious to see how long it takes to turn completely), and I won't be spending oodles of money on those expensive anti-wrinkle creams. I earned those laugh lines. I think that the biggest reason why I am not bothered by getting older is because in my heart and my mind, I am still a kid. 

As I grew up and my friends began to put away their childish toys and pursuits in favor of newer, more grown up, replacements, I only ever followed half-heartedly. I never let go of my love of toys and cartoons entirely, and while I did go through my party phase, I don't think there was ever a time I wouldn't have rather gone to see the new Disney movie (or stayed home to play with Legos while watching Powerpuff Girls) than to go out clubbing. I come by it honestly, I have grown to realize. I come from a long line of women capable of dealing with the responsibilities of adulthood while still holding on to "childish" pleasures. I think it lends us a little extra bit of happiness in our lives, to be honest. 

As I've grown up and moved even farther away from childhood, I've never stopped playing with and collecting toys or watching cartoons. My collection of Disney movies and other cartoons on DVD was quite impressive before my daughter came along, thank you very much. I have also, somehow, managed to seek out other people in my life who share the same outlook. All of my closest friends still embrace that "kid at heart" spirit to varying degrees. For a while I thought that everybody was like this, that everyone had some pursuit from childhood that they had kept with them when entering the realm of grownups. Sadly, I have learned that this just isn't so. There are a lot of people who frown on those of us who still play with toys or watch cartoons without the justification of entertaining a child in our care (and even quite a few who think that engaging in play with children is really just going overboard). I feel a little sorry for those people, to be honest. I am sure they have things that they take pleasure in, but no adult emotion can compare to that outright glee of childhood joy. It just can't. That's why you have to keep your inner kid alive in my opinion, because if you let her die, then you lose that sense of wonder about the world, and life is a lot less fun. There's enough doom and gloom out there for us grownups to deal with, if you ask me.

I also think that this outlook helps to make me a better parent (not than other people, but than I would be otherwise), because I can take just as much joy out of the things my daughter loves as she does. I can play with her and not be phoning it in. It gives us a chance to spend even more quality time together, which I am very thankful for, because, you guys, my daughter is awesome. And she's just going to keep getting even more awesome (then she'll become a teenager, but once she grows out of that, I fully expect her to be awesome again). We are standing here with all of the years to come spread out before us and the possibilities are endless. 

I used to worry that with her being a single child (we have no plans for more children) she would have difficulty learning some of the concepts that siblings are great at teaching--like sharing. But I don't so much worry about that anymore. For one thing, I am trying to remain mindful of those lessons and ensure that she gets to spend time around other kids so I can monitor her progress. For another, it never really dawned on me until recently that as much as I love to play with toys too, well, she's going to have to learn how to share with me. (Hey, there are plenty of ponies for both of us to play with.) As she starts to find all of my toys scattered around the house and claim them for her own, it's a good refresher in sharing for me as well, it turns out. Win-win.

I guess what it boils down to is that I would rather be young of heart than look young of body any day. As much responsibility as parenthood is, having my daughter around certainly keeps me young of heart. Now, if you need me, I'll be playing with my daughter...

Writing Is Kind Of A Bitchy Mistress

So, it's Thursday. Which means you should be looking at a new installment of Glyphs. Yet there is no new installment in sight. Sadly, there isn't going to be one any time soon either. Sigh.

I fought with myself about this all weekend and most of this week, but I finally had to admit to myself what I have  known pretty much since I started posting this story online. It just isn't happening. As of now Glyphs is officially on hold. I don't know when I will start it back up again. I certainly hope that I do, I can tell you that much. Writer's Podium Thursday is, in fact, also going away for the time being. I haven't quite decided yet what I am going to change my Thursday posts to. Until I decide, they are gonna be anything goes along the lines of the Friday posts. I've got a lot of great books waiting for me to read them, and I am hoping to finally be in a place where I can make myself take time to do that, so I might start doing more book reviews. It is one possibility I am looking at. In fact, let's just call it "Multimedia Thursday" and make that the home for all things TV, books, video games, or movies. Yeah, okay, that works.

I am truly, truly sorry to any of you who had started reading Glyphs and were looking forward to more. The story is there, in my head. I know what happens, I have the whole arc outlined and written out. I toyed with going ahead and putting that up in this space, but that would feel even more like giving up than just putting the project on hold, and I am not ready to give up on this tale just yet.

I follow the blogs of several writers, and many of them have expressed a philosophy that goes something along the lines of: "If you truly want to be a writer, you will make the time to write. You will find a way to do it."

I firmly believe that philosophy. And here's the thing, I do make/find the time to write, you are reading my blog after all, and it is updated five days a week. It's just that what I am writing these days isn't a story. I still have story ideas all of the time. Heck, the other day and idea came to me and I thought, hey, if I wrote Mass Effect fan fiction, this would be an excellent idea. That's just an example, by the way, not all of my ideas are for fan fiction. Not that I would be complaining if they were, because if I was writing fanfic I would at least be writing a story. It can be much less stressful to play in someone else's sandbox for a while, you know?

I got really excited about Glyphs and I jumped right into the deep end with it. Unfortunately I didn't make sure to stretch first, and I got all cramped up once in the water. It was easy enough to find things to blame for the lack of progress, to be sure. My playthrough of Dragon Age was certainly a distraction. But then I finished that, and I started finding other excuses not to work on the story. I randomly decided to start reading a webcomic with 1200 strips under its belt from the very beginning (um, in an entirely unrelated note, Girls With Slingshots is complete and total awesome-sauce, go check it out), I have assembled furniture, I started freaking exercising so I would have go to bed earlier (meaning I couldn't stay up to write after my daughter goes to bed). I mean, come on. When you start exercising to avoid doing something, that's a sign.

On top of all of that? I've been done with my playthrough of Dragon Age less than a week and I already kind of want to play it again. I also really want to start another playthrough of Mass Effect (which is why I was thinking about it enough to come up with a fanfic idea). Can't write and play a video game concurrently. At least I can't. For those of you wondering, the logic behind that is this:

When I write a story, I need to be able to just sit down and do it, with no distractions. The period of time in my average day when I can do this? When my daughter is a asleep, which means during naptime (when I do have other stuff I need to get done as well) and either staying up late after she goes to bed, or getting up early before she does (can't really do both of those).

When I play a game, I tend to get really into it and zone out most of what is going on around me. This is less than ideal if I am also supposed to be keeping an eye on my daughter. Thus, the time available for me to game is...when my daughter is asleep.

I think you see the conflict here.

Thing is, and this really was hard to admit to myself, right now I would rather play video games (or possibly reading a book) than be writing a story. I would rather get lost in someone else's world than try to create one of my own at this current stage in my life.

It makes me happier.

Do I expect this to last forever? Hell no. Do I still consider myself a writer. Yes. Very much so. Writing is an integral part of who I am. I don't think I will ever stop considering myself a writer. Like I said before, I do still make the time to write. Just because it isn't what I feel like I should be writing doesn't make it less valid. I am a grown woman (as much as I hate to admit it sometimes) and I am not only capable, but I am totally allowed to make these kinds of decisions for myself. As much as I believe the "if you really want it to happen, you will make it happen," philosophy I also very much believe that if something is just not there, forcing it won't make anything better. I still feel a bit like even just putting this story on hold is a huge failure on my part. When I told this to my husband he pointed out that if you never fail at anything then you aren't pushing yourself hard enough. He's got a point.

I truly believe I have another story in me that needs to be told. Glyphs is not that story. At least not right now. I don't know what that story is, but I am willing to wait for it to make its journey to me.

So, thanks for sticking around to read this. I hope no one is too disappointed that Glyphs won't be continuing here.

I'll try to come up with something interesting to fill its place.