All right, I'm admitting it here, right now. Total confession time. Heard about Britney Spears' no-unders photos and had to look for them. I was curious...found it hard to believe, believe it or not, that she'd run around without...panties. I mean, COME ON! That's ridiculous.
I found the pictures.
My mouth stretched into an "eeeek...it's true..." and cringed again as I scrolled once more through the several, horrifying shots of Ms. Spears getting into a limo and then engaging in what looked like a group hug with the huggers purposefully hiking her skirt so the paparazzi could get a lower-than-low shot of...everything under the skirt.
I sent the link to all my friends and family.
I don't know...maybe I have to be a guy but I found the pictures intensely embarrassing. Then I got nostalgic. Awwww...I remember the days when I'd actually WANT someone to see my personal business. I remember the days when I could actually drink enough alcohol to not mind strangers seeing my personal business without getting a migraine headache and throwing up in the bushes. Remember those days?
Yeah, so...I'm blind now. Completely, utterly blind. I looked and lost my vision. Blackness, I see, colors blurring into black, background noise of my children demanding Christmas presents and cell phones and cards for downloading music off the internet and really expensive clothes. The noise I appreciated most though was little almost-6 M, chiming, "Mommy, can I get Snow White panties, huh, Mommy? Or maybe Ariel panties? Or...or...the Twelve Dancing Princesses panties?"
"Oh yes, M, you can have as many panties as you want! All the panties in the world!"
Once again, I offer my apologies to my loyal blog-checkers for not updating very often. Just the school and holiday blues - too busy - not enough quiet time. Blog posts rush past me every day - lengthy posts - posts about dreams and nightmares and Tourette's syndrome and then when I sit at the computer, nothing reaches my fingertips.
I'm disturbed on some level because not so long ago I imagined that just maybe I might eek out a living writing. I envisioned short stories, novels...I saw something real and plausible. Then I started teaching. And it seemed like all those ideas of mine disappeared. I started a blog as a creative outlet, as an alternative to making a living as an author. I put a lot into the blog - it was wonderful. Then the blog became an extension of my conscious and subconscious and suddenly it wasn't anonymous anymore but really me.
And then the "me" began to act just like I do at home - indulging in non-productivity. The silence of the blog is me on the couch. Wearing underwear, for those of you smarties out there. Underwear and jeans. And a top. A bra under the shirt or sweater. A well-covering sweater. With boots. Socks and boots. And beer in the hand. Or maybe a book. Or it could be no boots and socks and just slippers with M or A next to me. And the house is messy. And there is chili simmering on the stove. Bubbling chili with beans, Italian sausage, ground turkey, canned tomatoes and lots of spices. My sister's recipe that took me a week to finally pull together. Because lately, me-on-the-couch has been enjoying prepared food. BBQ pork, pineapple fish, orange-peel chicken wings, vegetable lasagna, turkey meatloaf. D and I love prepared food.
"Look, honey, I just have to stick the thing in the microwave and voila! All done!"
"Delicious. The salt will do wonders for my hypertension."
"No...that's the trick...low salt."
"Delicious. The blandness will definitely do wonders for my compulsive eating."
So...yeah...the silent Bliss Blog is Adriana on the couch. Wearing underwear.