I’ve been doing some deep thinking about resurrecting this mission of meeting up with you for months. Seriously, this post has been in my drafts since February. I add things, I delete things. I’ve started over multiple times and I’ve stayed up many a night wondering how to make it work. I’ve made lists and I’ve written some real crap. I don’t know why in the hell I worry so much about it. I am certain that
some many would say to me to just move the fuck on, but for some reason I just can’t let it go. I have this nagging voice in my head that won’t let me give up. I swear it feels like I’m trying to do something not just for myself, but for so many of my friends who support me and what I’m doing here on a daily basis. My thought processes have been so random lately it has been hard to come up with the perfect approach.
First it was making one of those pics asking for one million Facebook likes and then you would agree to set something up. Surely that shit works for all those people whose faces show up in my news feed. If hundreds/thousands/a million people think it should happen, then it will. Right? I then had a glass of wine and remembered how redonkulous those are so I made this one, just to add that special touch to this post. Totally not the least bit embarrassing.
Hey! How about a working with an amazing company to create something inspired by you? Hell yeah I did that. I worked with my amigas over at A Girl and Her Band to create this AMAZING headband, appropriately named Captain Jack, that is now available on their website. For now I had to use a miniature version of you to show it off, but I will bring one with me when we meet so that we can do something incredible for these inspiring ladies.
Since I can’t rely on getting one million Facebook likes to make something happen, I am going to have to rely on my writing skills for this. Sonofa…. Trying to decide which path to take here has been difficult. I did the letter, I’ve done the movie review, I’ve even gotten my ass up at four in the morning on a whim holding on to that slim chance that I would have a chance to meet you. I could sit here and blabber on about how much I adore you and how much I think you are all that and a bag of chips and how all your movies are spectacular, but even my five-year-old could read through that bullshit. What could I possibly write that would be different from the millions of other letters that you receive?
It was when I was talking with the Enabler and she asked me: If you had the chance to actually sit and talk to him, what would you talk about? Holy. Shit. Why did I not think of this sooner? I need to brainstorm over wine more often.
Let’s just imagine for a minute can we, you and I at a table in a quaint little restaurant. I have a salad because I probably can’t really eat out of fear of having something in my teeth, or having gas; you have a full plate of delightful food and I am extremely jealous because I’m starving. Both of us would have wine of course, except I would most likely down the first glass to calm my nerves. Don’t be alarmed, this will make the conversation much more interesting for both of us. We would get the bullshit out-of-the-way immediately. Yes, I have five kids. Yes, they are all mine. Yes, they were all planned. Yes, they all have the same daddy. Yes, I’m happily married. Yes, we really farm. Oh wait, you thought that YOU would be answering all the questions. I just assumed that you would be so intrigued by me that your list of questions would be never-ending. My bad.
Once you were finished with all your questions, I am confident that I could come up with some suitable conversation starters. I usually suffer from a serious case of verbal diarrhea, especially when I’m nervous, so there is no doubt that it would lead to many foot in mouth moments so please be sure to bring your sense of humor. Rest assured I would at least make the effort to appear like I have half a clue. I am fairly educated and I read quality <ahem> literature (like my own book, I Just Want to Pee Alone) when I have time (which isn’t very often) so surely I will be able to keep up with the conversation. I joke, but really these days I am just trying my best just to form logical thoughts and form coherent sentences. Thanks to my kids I don’t know how much I have left upstairs so I need to seize the moment and utilize what I’ve got while I still have it. The amount of quality adult interaction that I get to enjoy really is limited, so don’t be scared to just tell me to shut the hell up if I happen to get a little wordy.
In all seriousness though, I don’t want to interview you. I am sure you sit through so many of those snore-fests you don’t need another session of the same boring-ass questions. I’m not a journalist trying to land that big movie star interview in order to further my career. I’m a mom who writes for a little bit of mental therapy. I put my thoughts out there for total strangers to read with the hopes that maybe I will give someone a smile or encourage someone to make a change. If it’s a good day I will help someone get just the laugh that they needed to push them up from the depths of grumpiness or help that stressed out momma realize that she isn’t alone. That the very same shit that she has dealt with today, happened in my house yesterday. Luckily for me, very few people (translation my family and a handful of friends) would even know who I was if they saw me walking down the street. Anonymity definitely has it’s perks.
I have absolutely no agenda and I have no wonderful story to tell you as to why I deserve to meet you. I lead what many would consider an “ordinary” life on a farm in the middle of Kansas. I have nothing spectacular to tell you about myself besides I have five amazing kids and one very supportive husband. I can tell you that I’m a devoted fan, a devoted wife and mother to my family, and a devoted writer and entertainer for all my friends. I drink, I swear, I say what I think and do what I say I will. I make people laugh, I make my kids cry, and I have terrible indigestion right now because I know it’s time to hit the publish button on this post and the people, they will read it and they will roll their eyes, and for fucks sake I hope they share it and blow up the internet. I suppose I will leave the rest up to the power of the interwebs, fate….and you.
Peace. Out. xoxo