And Another Fucking Thing!

I just want to say that the bloggers that have been leaving comments on my page floor me. I never in a million years thought I was any good at this writing thing. I was terrible in English class, but I can spell and speak like a mother fucker. I’m the Grammar Nazi in my family. When the kids were growing up I would correct them. I didn’t want them sounding like heathens. Hell, Meggie won a writing award in fourth grade. I knew my correction was working. Er, except when I corrected Roger Darling. That was a bad day in the Heath House. Holy shit I thought he was going to kick my ass (read figuratively. The man worships my sparkly ass.). The kids thought it was hilarious. Oh yeah, sure. Mom’s going to get her ass kicked by Dad. That’ll be a hoot. Fortunately there was no ass kicking. Just a nice reminder that I was not his mother. Ha!

I used to post funny status updates on FB all the time. Or sad ones. Or thought provoking ones. Or pissed off ones. Whatever was on this sparkly mind of mine. My dear friend Lisa was the one that said blog. I said okay, but I have no idea what the hell I’m doing. The first few posts suck. But as time progresses they get better. I’ve had help from other writers. I guess that means I’m a writer too.

The comments here are always positive. I’m shocked. I was told to be prepared for criticism. The only criticism I ever got was on subject matter that I write about. Those comments were from my own extended family.They’re shocked about what I write. They wonder how I can put myself out there. How can I not? I’m just saying what everyone else is thinking? Why not just come out and say it. And they don’t like the fact that I say fuck all the time. Fuck that! I say fuck, because I fucking can. So that’s what I’m going to fucking do. I love them, but this girl’s gotta do what she’s gotta do.

My mother has read my more recent posts. Rather I read them to her. She told me she was proud of me. But did I have to say fuck all the time? Mom I love you but yes, I fucking do. My readers like it. Hell, I like it.

I have friends tell me all the time that I’m writing about what they’re thinking. Of course I am. We’re all on this planet going through the same damn shit, so why wouldn’t they identify with me?

I had one blogger comment that in all the years that she’d been studying writing in college, she couldn’t come close to some of the things that I’d been writing. My thoughts, my subjects, my words were those of some of her favorite authors. I was overjoyed by the words, but I’m still skeptical. I still don’t want to believe it.

I was thinking about taking a creative writing class. I don’t really know if I want to. I mean I’m all for sitting at a computer and bleeding. But I want to bleed and write about my passions. My needs. My wants. My desires. Not what some teacher wants me to write about. I’m kind of a rebel girl. I don’t like it when someone tells me what to do. So I think I’m just going to keep doing more of what I’ve been doing. I read other bloggers every day. I get insight from every post I read and from every writer that I talk to.

I hope you keep reading. I hope more bloggers follow me. I hope I never run out of words. I hope, I hope and I hope.

20 thoughts on “And Another Fucking Thing!

  1. Well said. Blogging has unleashed your natural gifts and your language has never even been an issue for me. To be honest, I’ve never noticed your propensity to say fuck. When I first started posting a friend said that to me so I penned an essay called ‘A Word Like No Other,’ something like that. Nothing else was ever said. The word suits your openness and if a man was throwing it around no one would notice.

    I say keep writing what comes up – express those feelings of yours because they are very inspiring to the rest of us.

    • Girl it’s got nothing to do with balls. It’s got to do with tits. Plus for the most part I just don’t give a shit. If you like what I say great. If you don’t that’s even better. If I make you cry, think, angry, any bit of emotion. If you feel my words then I have done my job. As Forrest Gump says, sometimes there just aren’t enough rocks. Well baby I’ve got rocks, and I will throw them everywhere!πŸ™‚

  2. Years ago, I took a Creative Writing class at WCC and LOVED it. My professor was *amazing*, her assignments quirky and fun….things like writing a 500 word, ONE SENTENCE story (I have always used punctuation rather creatively, but that was a stretch, lol). In fact, the first work I ever had published was a story from her class…she gave us the first line (“She slipped the box containing his ashes into her overnight bag”) and let us run with it…. : )

    • OMFG that sounds like fun. I wonder if she’s still there. I should check. Maybe, just maybe I will do that writing class after all. Look how fantastic you turned out because of it. I love you girlie.

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