Did you ever have someone read your diary?
I mean, really read your most private thoughts and then make you regret you ever wrote them?
I was devastated.
I was 16 and my boyfriend found my diary under my mattress. He read everything. From the crushes I had before him to the crushes I had during him….He was m.a.d.
We broke up. I threw out my diary and vowed never to write in another journal again.
I was 16. I was tortured. I was hormonal.
So what’s changed you ask?
I blog now. And I’m not 16 anymore. Far from it. But I’m still tortured, and still very hormonal.
And strangers read my innermost thoughts. Some comment. Some lurk.
And some ask me to guest post at their place while they are hooting it up somewhere probably more fun than here with a cute little umbrella in her drink!
Hi, I’m JJ. You can usually find me here.
Hang on a minute while I open up Megan’s windows and air out her living room.
Where did she say she was keeping the goldfish food again? Oh! OK. Here it is.
So. Where was I?
Oh! Yeah, diaries. Journals. Blogs.
I haven’t kept one since that fateful day in 1988. Then, three+ years ago, I had a baby.
I had to let out some sort of steam in a way that didn’t get me hurt or incarcerated. And by then, I grew up enough to not care what anyone thought of me or my most private thoughts.
So here I am. Blogging. Guest Blogging no less…And posting after the most amazing bloggers in the world. Talk about pressure...And snooping through Megan’s cabinets too, of course. She's got some amazing stuff in here. Maybe I’ll leave her a little post-it love note under the toilet seat for when she gets back.
Shh…don’t tell her…let her find it herself.
I feel like the teenager, who keeps a diary and whose parents left her alone for the weekend.
I promised I wouldn’t throw any raucous parties in Megan’s absence, but it is so tempting, what with the beers in the fridge and the chips and salsa in the kitchen!
Wanna come over? You have to promise to help me clean up afterwards.
Don’t bring any weed. Wait, just a little. That could be fun. It’s been a long week.
You know, That’s what this blog world feels like. A big party with people who get along and care about each other…genuinely. I mean, we wouldn’t be here if we didn’t care, right? We wouldn't expose ourselves so if we didn't want to be part of some sort of community. And let me tell you this community rocks.
I wouldn’t be here blogsitting, if I didn’t want Megan to be happy and enjoy her time on vacation, worry free.
Where else can you find such a bond, such camaraderie? I dare you to try to find it anywhere else…
Hmmm…let’s play a game!
Truth or Dare?
When I was 19, I dated a
boy man 7 years older than me…We dated about a year before I found out he was addicted to heroine. I didn’t know it. I swear. He went on and off with it and when we met, he had just come out of rehab and was clean. (I don't know how that fact slipped away from me!)
A few months later, he started up again and his mom called one day because she wanted to warn me…and she was afraid he’d drag me down with him...(Not actually doing the drug but enabling him)...She was his enabler, yadda, yadda, yadda, she couldn’t believe I didn’t know and she didn’t want to hurt me but…Needless to say, I was devastated. I wanted to help him get over it because I thought we could work it out...But really, he lied. Like a rug. Who needs that?
So, because I didn't want him losing his mind when I confronted him, I went to more than enough NA meetings for my liking to show my support. I don’t know where he is today. I hope he’s well.
Dare? Dare you say?
I dare you to take off your top and run up and down your block two times screaming “I’m a blogger”!
Ha! That was refreshing. *snort*
The Corona’s are cold..shall I put on some music? Led Zep? Tesla? Rush? You name it, I got it. I made a mixed tape.
Shhh..the phone’s ringing, it might be Mom *ahem *Megan…Don’t talk too loud.
Whew! That was close.
Ok. Ok…Listen, I better wind this shin-dig down. Help me start cleaning up. I gotta get going.
I need to have this blog spotless for Megan’s return. I want her to ask me to blogsit again next time she goes away.
Can you help close the windows up?
Thanks for keeping me company while she was gone…
And, thanks for cleaning the beer bottle rings off the coffee table.
Hey, were you making out on the coat pile?
Oh! And thank you for not snitching about the weed…wanna read my diary?…
Now go play some “Truth or Dare” in the comments section of this bad boy. Show me some lurve.
I dare you…