Wanted: One "good" blog.

So I was told yesterday that I "need" to post a new blog... its been too long. Then I was informed it should be a "good" blog. No pressure.

Great. Stupid Muse. You are supposed to give me ideas, not writer's block! Punk-ass Muse, stick to what you're good at: being easy on the eyes, and inspiring thought (hey stop that, I was NOT being dirty).

I suppose I'm really not in a great place for writing. I've been kind of grumpy, depressed, and confused. Even though I've been showering and getting dressed every day, I really haven't been going anywhere or doing anything (unless booze shopping at TJ's counts). When you don't interact with the outside world, its kinda hard to write about it. And really, I don't think a blog titled "what I found in the garbage disposal" is going to make anyone happy. Besides, Jessa already cornered the market on blogs about disgusting things one can find in a sink.

Guess I'll have to get out of the house and do some people watching today... maybe I'll have something fun to write later.

[above picture is © Anneth 'Waterballoon Vixen' Lagamo. All rights reserved]

It's In the Cards

Two days ago I stopped in at the local convenience store to pick up some beer. *Yes, champagne and buffalo wings, beer and brie... its just the kinda girl I am.* When I get to the register the first thing I notice is that the clerk is new, and he's eyeballing me.... in kind of a creepy way.

I feel I should go back a little, and mention that I've been making purchases at this particular convenience store for over eight years now, so I fully don't appreciate the 'new kid' giving me any flack. And just as I'm about to mention how he really should have chosen pediatrician as a career path because his convenience store customer service skills are just absolutely astounding, he says, "you do realize we're carding everyone these days?"

As I'm saying, "oh! yeah sure, no problem!" and digging for my ID, the lady in line behind me says to him,"Good thing too, this one is definitely not old enough to buy beer."

The way I see it, I could take this commentary one of two ways.

1- the guy is carding every single person that comes in no matter what, because he's young(-ish) and new, and doesn't really know any better & the lady behind me was just being polite and had a "witty" comment to share.

~or~

2- WooooHooooo!!! Happy early birthday to me! *happy dance happy dance happy dance* I'm telling people I'm 25 for the next three years!

Yeah, the second option is much more fun.

The Audience is Listening.

Every time I sit down to write, I consider my audience. Not just whoever stumbles across my blog (which I realize could be anyone), but also where I cross-post, and who is going to be reading, who is going to be commenting. Many times I can just sit and type, but there are (and especially lately) times when I type something then delete it based on my audience (or potential audience).

I was thinking about it earlier today, and I realized that a majority of my audience is made up of my faire friends (thank you Tribe). I started to wonder, what makes us so different? I know its not an original thought, but what is it about the 'faire family' that makes us so strong, so unusual? Why is it that I feel like I can go to someone I've only known for about 12 days a year, for the last few years (anywhere from 1 faire season to 11 faire seasons), and pour out some of my deepest, darkest, most absurd feelings, and they would understand? How is it that I can be so deeply in love with my faire family, that it affects my day-to-day life?

One of the obvious answers is that we all seem to share a similar "passion" for faire. It is home for many of us, and it seems that for some, when we aren't there, we tend to carry a bit of 'homesickness'. To fill the void, we stay in touch via the computer, the telephone, and sometimes even spending silly amounts of money just to visit for a weekend. If I go a day without talking to at least one 'faire friend', I feel like something is missing (and really, it is).

The other answer I've been able to come up with is that you people are an addiction. How could someone with my personality traits NOT be addicted to faire and the people who make it what it is? The attention, the attraction, the sexual energy, the constant flow of adrenaline, the continual laughter, the being able to say (nearly) any stupid thing that pops into my head to (nearly) any person walking by ... the ability to walk down the street and not get five feet without running into a friend. When I'm not there I miss it all, when I'm not there I miss you all.

Then again, maybe we're all such great friends because, where else are you going to find such a sick perverted group of drama geeks/history buffs/band dorks in one place?

Like attracts like..... and damn if I don't like you people.