I spent the bulk of my weekend with my friend Rebecca. Yesterday we went to the (very trashy) Lloyd Center mall for some Back to School shopping at Old Navy and Forever 21. We ate in the food court. We talked about our mutual desire to be classier dressers. We shared a strawberry malt at the pseudo 1950’s diner that lives in the food court but is sort of it’s own place. I love Rebecca. She reminds me of my dearest girlfriends, Liz and Heather, from my hometown. She is really funny, she is trustworthy, she is honest, she is crafty. And she has that good-friend glow- that companionability that just puts you at ease and makes you feel glad.
Today we had a movie marathon. We watched Whale Rider and Ordinary People (we didn’t get to To Be and To Have- it just got too late.) Shannon joined us for the second film, and we all ate popcorn and watermelon and Tofutti Cuties. Watching movies on a beautiful summer afternoon is such a guilty pleasure. You know you ought to be out hiking or swimming or something. But instead you tape blankets over the windows, shut the front door, and Get In The Zone. So satisfying.
Another pleasant part of my day was the suprise encounter with my coffee shop friend (/crush) at the Fresh Pot this morning. Actually, it wasn’t a huge surprise. When I woke up this morning and thought about going out for tea I just felt a certainty that I would run into this man. We always have nice conversations when we run into each other, and today’s was especially lengthy and deep. He recently started reading Perfect Heart, and we talked a lot about Meaning and Intention (I am a Capital Letters Queen today!) in the blogging expiriment. It was natural feeling and honest, to the point that I found myself furiously blushing on more than one occassion. It’s funny that I can write about my emotional life ad nauseum here, knowing that strangers are reading and judging, but talking about my blog makes me self-conscious. Or maybe it was talking to someone that I don’t know very well yet but like a lot about a part of my life that is so intimate (though public) that made me shy. In any case it was a treat to run into him, and I hope it happens again soon.
In the car I listened to the radio and heard the following songs (greatly adding to my wonderful day):
*Say it Ain’t So by Weezer
*A great Nirvana song that never got a lot of airplay that I love, but unfortunately cannot remember right now because it was instantly eclipsed by the next song
*Here Comes Your Man by the Pixies
Could it get any better?
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I wish I could have been there with you for the mall excursion. I wish I was a classier dresser, too…
dear willow,
can we talk more? i would like to do that, but maybe in a slightly more private way than posting on your comments and maybe that best way would be the emailing for now. try this email address: souvenir_clothing@yahoo.com and i will write you back.
and we can talk about the boys and our hearts.
peace.
allison
Lloyd Center didn’t even used to be covered, as in a roof, so no matter what it is now, it’s better than it was. Forever 21? Now that’s trashy. Beware the blog as outlet for emotions. That’s what the real damn world is for. I’m sorry to blast you post, but come on…”experiment”? This type of public forum is the ultimate non-experiment. Get to living, not posting, my friend.
For my money, writing honestly about one’s life and feelings is one of the boldest personal experiments one can embark on, and I’ve SEEN it change the “real” lives of bloggers and diarists, too.
Willow, I love your Perfect Heart.
Hey, R.D. You give some interesting advice. I would even say good advice, given a slightly different way. Maybe if you just take a deep breath and relax… (IF you know what I mean. WINKWINK)
As far as Lloyd Center et al., I don’t think there’s anything wrong with being trashy, and I don’t think that my friend Willow intended any deprecation of anyone except herself in this case. Just a little gentle ribbing, you know?
But the real pith was about Blogging. Hm. I’ll partially defer to Emily here, but I think that you’re really onto something in saying “beware.” Blogging can be dangerous. It’s dangerous, true, that one runs the risk of falling into a morass of virtual living; but I would say that it is still more dangerous when (as Willow does) one lives in and writes about the “real world.” It’s dangerous—among many reasons—because one comes to be very exposed, and as such in a weird space between intimate and public interaction; and because one runs the risk of being unempathetically judged while in that state of exposure.
I think, too, that sometimes we readers forget that a blog is not a full picture of the blogger, and that our understanding of the partial picture that is presented in a blog is, itself, partial.
The word “experiment” seems to be a problem for you, but that might be because of a difference between your usage and hers. To me “experiment” seems like a really excellent word to use to describe the blogging… experiment. To me it just fits that well, you know? I guess to you it just fits that badly. Could make for an interesting conversation.
Anyway, blogging has been a very valuable experience for me, and I don’t think that that value would really remain intact if I did all that it would entail to remove the dangers involved.
Thanks Emily and David. I think you guys covered all I was going to say. I will also add that blogging and living are not mutually exclusive endeavors! And if you think I write about my emotions a lot, boy howdy, you ought to hear me talk!
I would encourage YOU, RD, to
1. Use your real name (Gary) when commenting. If you’ve got something to say, fucking own it, don’t hide behind a pseudonym.
2. Quit reading my blog if it offends your cyber-sensibilities.