Wow, what happened here?

I'm wearing pink; ya'll - like consciously selected pink blouse. What has happened? I feel like my former self is having a panic attack - and you know what I don't care. She can sit with her pan of low fat chocolate cupcakes and lament while watching Dirty Dancing. Me? I'm going to try and find the ground and then find the source of the epidemic sweeping the J and L household - I think Leaha has been putting something in the Brita filter or something because this is odd.

To reassure you all that no alien has taken over my body - I want you to know that I have almost finished "The Word and The Bomb" by Hanif Kureshi. I have to say while I'm not a huge fan of his fiction - The Buddha of Suburbia - primarily because of the over sexualized content - his essays are unique, inspired by life and well representative of the discourse regarding British post-colonial/Thatcherism and queer literature. Genres which I find particularly fascinating - so that's one book down and plenty to go - I'm trying to decide - I'm thinking I'll start with Arundhati's and then move on to Klein.

Readers

Oh dear readers - be you few and far between - understand something please, I want you to read. Blogging is a weird construct - in that the majority of these posts would never have become public consumption if I had years ago, when there was no Internet being forced to limit them to my inner thoughts or journals. I've always written, always found a profound satisfaction in being able to empty a portion of my brain's contents out on a surface. Some claim that is it is narcissistic, or an attempt for attention - a look at me, see what I want you to see - because it's just SO important. I've preferred to look at it as a facilitator or a medium by which I can express the whole of who I am. Actors use their persona's to reflect the facets of their personalities, legitimate writers use either characters to work out, work through or act out events that have some degree of importance, musicians and singers - have lyrics, notes, cadence and amplitude. Through writing I'm able to pose questions I want answered or not, vent, rave and the verbs could go on forever. In the end though as much as certain posts seem like I'm stepping out of a discourse, the fundamental purpose is I want to be able to discuss. Even in a very loose sense challenge you - pose an idea that you haven't considered and vice versa, challenge me.

In then end maybe there is an ulterior motive - if I could find away to articulate myself into a more productive literary form I would love to spend a decided portion of my life writing - article, short stories/essays etc or even a cookbook. Not a novel though, I don't have enough patience. Maybe if it was short, and I could in some sort of pastiche create a work like Daphne Marlett's Ana Historic - this fusion of present, past and lyric - to have a story with song, poetry and textural time would be amazing - like a novel version of a classic film with the soundtrack included. But that's not going to happen anytime soon - a life of luxury is what that would require - being able to write, create and be continually present through all my actions - to be a Mrs. Dalloway - without the lesbian or suicidal tendencies... granted there wouldn't be much left of her though.

As per usual I have no idea what the future holds for me in any respect, at this very moment I'm in a mostly packed room wondering why my life is as it is right now - the friends I've made and kept over the years, the jobs I've kept and don't want, will this year look like the last few - and if so can I do it over again - there has to be more to this life then holding onto joy - what about a little happiness - be it short term and artificial - I still wouldn't mind it.

So in the end read on, comment etc and hope that maybe one day I can be a blog of note....