It seems to me that I have been undervaluing blogging. My computer died a sad and horribly slow death. It would heave to life and then quit. Sort of like my new favorite show Pushing Daisies. It just didn’t matter how many times we pushed the darn on button, the computer stubbornly refused to cooperate.
I went through blog withdrawal. Granted unknowingly but I did.
I’ve just read Jess’ blog and I have to say I was revived. I missed that glimpse in to her funny mind. I missed that private feeling of camaraderie. I am not one to share certain feelings and I missed the release of the blog. When I start to discuss certain things, my husbands eyes glaze over and he looks at me a bit funny. Sort of like when I do Tarot or give a reading to someone. He believes it but doesn’t want to believe it. If I try to read my blog to him, I start to cry. Not helpful in the least but at least he isn’t one of those guys who wigs out over it. While my husband is my best friend he doesn’t have a vagina and that puts him in a different class of best friend. He doesn’t get certain things, which I don’t expect him to but sometimes need someone too.
This is where the power of my female friends come in. I can discuss shaving. I can discuss ghosts. I can discuss the emotional toll of my son on my life. I can discuss me and not feel like I should grow a penis and get over it. Sometimes I need to hash, beat that dead horse, rehash and then shoot the horse – whatever it takes to get it out so I don’t feel it crawling under my skin. Toby Keith has written a great song called I Wanna Talk About Me. LOVE IT. Quite frankly, I wouldn’t kick Toby Keith out of the bed for eating crackers which makes it even better but the song says it all. Some days I want to talk about me and not feel like I shouldn’t. I’ll give my husband his dues – he does listen and has learned I don’t want him to fix it. But some days vagina to penis just doesn’t work. Maybe it’s the two friends that dangle along for the ride but talking to someone with the right genitalia can make all the difference in the world.
So I thank my female friends. Thank you for talking about breast hair. Thank you for talking about period poops. Thank you for talking about clothes. Thank you for talking about kids. Thank you for being the history keepers. Thank you for being the story tellers. Thank you for believing in ghosts and psychics. Thank you for listening. Thank you for that release that can only come from talking to someone without a penis who doesn’t expect you to understand what a drive shaft is and why it’s important. Thank you for the laughter. Thank you for helping me get over crises. Thank you for helping me to see that maybe there is a purpose in my life after all and remembering that I am important. Thank you for being my friend and giving me the power to be yours.
Life is good. My name is Elizabeth and I have a vagina – Thank God !