When I started this blog, exactly two people read it. One who knew me very well and one who was a guy named Jon who I only met in person years later. At that time, it was really easy to write about…well…anything…because I didn’t have to worry about exposing people’s secrets or stepping on toes.
And now, well, I can’t really do that. Now there are several people whom I know that read this thing. And honestly, I’m not even sure who (but I know you’re out there…and I know your IP addresses, bitches!) and it’s a bit frustrating.
Right now, there is something going on with a member of my family that I can’t wrap my mind around. I haven’t told anyone about it for several reasons. One being that it isn’t my place. It really isn’t any of my business. And no matter how much I want to vent about it, I have to respect the person involved.
Another is that I am just not really sure that I know how I feel about it. I feel inexplicably angry and I am not sure who to be angry with or why. I feel disappointed in this person because part of me thinks it’s some kind of ridiculous ploy to get attention. (I’ve seen this sort of thing happen so many times.) Another part of me is just bored with the whole situation. It’s so shocking and unexpected that it becomes not at all shocking and quite tiring. Boring, silly, immature, irritating.
In the end though, I guess I really don’t care. We’re family and we irritate each other because of it. It’s our job to drive each other crazy. And when one of us does stupid shit that doesn’t make sense, it’s also our job to be there for each other (and be there at the end to point out, “I told you so, dumbass.”).
And I fully intend to do my job.