melancholy baby

With the addition of my third blog follower (welcome friend!) and the recent invites I've given out, I am anticipating familial questions and sensitive surprise to the premier of my shades of grey.

I feel the need to explain my metamorphosis.

As mentioned in my profile, I was encouraged by a friend.  A friend whom I haven't seen for 27 years, since high school French class.  He sat behind me.  With my girl friend sitting nearby, we formed a triangle of innocent teasing and instant trust.  I looked forward to going to that class and smiling and laughing and feeling like high school was going to be ok.  He was two years ahead of us.  A senior trumping our two sophomores.  No matter, in French class we were all equally inept.

He asked me to go out with him.  I said no.  I feared my father and what may explode by breaking a family rule.   Rule #1:  no dating until you are 16.  I was 15.  Instead, I bought him the new Scorpions album he had been excited about.  Actually I don't remember which came first, the album or the asking.  Doesn't matter, both were turning points.

And three decades forward another page is turned.  I found my french class friend on facebook.  Just a fluke, as I was perusing some high school reunion site or something.  I was a newbie to the social networking scheme, sending a few notes, watching people, stalking as they say.  Most of the other alums were enjoying their reconnections.  I'll give it a try, I thought.  In September, my friend received a brief email from "the girl from french class."  Nothing lost for trying.  What will I gain?

He remembered.  He responded.  He and I reminisced and wrote and realized the 27 years between us.  We have some stuff in common now.  We shared stories through the internet mail and laughed at our past selves.  He complimented my ideas and allowed me to express myself.  Thoughts easily flowed through my fingertips and onto the screen.  Anticipation of my friend's reaction overtook my senses.  Joy.  Awareness.  Introspection.  I was writing again. 

So as my patient friend received emails of my essays and observations, I began to realize what was missing.  As he encouraged me to write and work out my thoughts, I thought of more.  I dove deeply into myself and rescued a necessary treasure.  I opened my eyes and asked myself the hard questions.  I used writing and the writing used me.  I flew through my past, attacked my present, and wondered about my future.  I was hooked again.  I needed to write.  I needed to feel.  I needed to breathe.  And my friend needed a break.

I must introduce you to my friend.  He and I knew each other briefly all those decades ago.  Two teenagers who lived from minute to minute.  There was no contact after that year.  We went our separate ways...to the same college, we found out recently.  To careers, marriage, children, mortgages, and the meaning of our lives.  We had lots to share in those early emails, and I couldn't get enough.  After all, I had a willing audience and he responded positively to most everything I fed him.  My friend is as gracious as I remember him, and I have told him so.

My honesty spewed forth and many questions were asked.  I opened my eyes and my heart, looking for answers.  Kinda' risky for a fragile emoter, such as I.  My friend pulled me back and gave me advice.  He helped me see the importance of my thinking and how I could rope in my enthusiasm on my own blog.  Really?  On the internet, for everyone to see?  And how about writing short stories using your experiences?  Really?  Me?  Thanks for the vote of confidence.

Caterpillar chrysalis becomes butterfly.  Wings of hope fly me forward.  Breathing easier.

Now I introduce myself to you and the www.  Hello, here I am.  This is me.  This is what I think about.  This is what has happened to me.  These are my dreams, fears, wants, needs.  Here you will research a middle aged woman, wife, mother of two, daughter, sister, aunt.  Here lies my inner workings, the core of my being.  I have come through and around and under challenges.  I have wished and wondered and waited for life.  I have lived and loved and loathed.  You will hear my history.  You will discover my doubts.  You will feel my future.  You will penetrate my present.  You will explore my expectations.  You will read me.

Please enjoy.
Peace.