Thursday, October 23, 2008

Sleeping in the Middle of the Bed.

Thursday night.  It's the night I announce we are having leftovers to the kids, eat whatever they want,I don't even care if they eat cereal for long as I'm not involved.  I clop down the stairs to our "Beer Fridge" and grab a microbrew and head to the computer. 

 Sweet Computer.  

I search the internet for my new improved life, usually without much success.  I look at porn...only for a few minutes, because I get embarrassed(why don't they have easy on the eyes 70's porn?  because I think I really just like to see what real boobs look like and afros on white girls).  Then I move onto the favs...I scroll from one list to another, voyeurizing all of them.  Peeking into their sometimes mundane but mostly above ordinary lives.  I pick blogs from San Fran and New York City, because that is where my real life should be.  I read about their fashion and sometimes about their loves, but mostly about their inner cores.  Things they don't think their fellow people are really reading. I need this.  I need them to get me through the days. 
People who know me don't know me.  I've yet to meet anyone who could see me from the inside out.  A person who knows my dreams, who wants to be a part of my dreams or at least step inside for a moment.... but when reading these blogs I can relate to them...they are me...all in weird little ways.  Maybe it's how those weird nerds love "comic-con"...people get them.  

When I was on the dating market, I always dated idiots...It was a safety device...or maybe it was the only thing I could get?  I don't know...I'm  not going to think about that.   I have never met a man who challenges me or has wanted to.  I'm not sure if that says something about me or about men in general.  Whatever the case, my inner circle could care less about it.  People are surprised that I read.  People are more surprised that I have a bookshelf, that I think reading is a mini vacation and I feel guilty if I don't interchange one "top-seller" for a classic every other read.  It's my rule. In reading the blogs I enter a world of strong, intelligent, book smart woman who say what they feel and I'm sure they have all read Camus to Bukowski.  I know they have.
This is my secret garden.  My refuge.  My place to think.

So, as I finish my homework and chores from the day I am thankful for the pen and paper....and the book which awaits me as I climb into bed,the middle of the bed, turn the blanket up to 10 and relax to my mini vacation.


Baking With Plath said...

This is such a great post. I feel like I know my "blogger friends" better than my "real life friends" and vice versa. I think it's because it's easier to be yourself when you're behind a computer screen, or in my case - when you're anonymous. Reading (both books and blogs) is such a wonderful escape.

Jozette said...

This was a fantastic post. Really beautiful. I totally agree with you about coming home, and reading blogs or books or whatever - it's the ultimate escape.

I have a friend who is super smart and knows like, everything. More than I do (and I think very highly of myself ;)) and people always are surprised when she knows something, or has read something. What you wrote made me think of her. I think that underestimating people is really the dumbest thing someone can do.

spiffydoug said...


Tina said...

A little late but I loved this post. Sometimes my blogs are my friends. I'm grateful for them.