Getting To Know You

Experts... or maybe freelance writers trying to fill in their word count... keep saying that everybody is an expert in something.

We just don't see it because we take our own gifts for granted.

Urm. Really?

While this is fantastic to hear, I am wondering if it's really true.

Is this true?

If I had to guess mine... and it didn't involve being an expert cookie eater or master complainer...dang this is hard...

I am really good at reading people. I can tell if you (well... not YOU you) are lying. I can tell... stuff. Other people take months to figure out what I all ready know. I have no idea why. I have no idea what good it does me. I guess... it's saved me a lot of trouble sometimes.

What are you good at that you've noticed other people may not be?

7 Ways to Wreck a Day

1. Face a giant. You know the one. THE one. The one that's been there forever. Now. Don't try to fight it. Don't try to run away or hide from it. Don't try to pray about it or actually do anything about it. Just look it. Invite it to a staring contest. Be afraid. Just like always.

2. Watch a Friend Get Something You Had Been Working For. Covet. Complain. Cry. Be jealous. Hate her a little.

3. Yell at Your Kids. Because. You know. They yelled first. Way to be the parent.

4. Eat the One Thing You Can't Eat. You deserve it. It's not fair that you can't have it. Why should you listen to doctors? What do they know, anyway?

5. Realize that You've Made A Lot of Bad Decisions Today. Still don't pray. Still spaz in circles and think about business and completely refuse to focus on the real life happening right in front of you.

6. Visit the city you love. Instead of being happy to see it, grumble, again, that you don't live there.

7. Write it all down for the internet because this kind of shallow pettiness should be shared.

Lord have mercy.

The Beautiful Problem of Transparency

I think you guys may know me better than almost anyone else.

Is that weird to say?

If people meet me, get to know me, and THEN read the blog, they are, well, shocked a little. I've gotten a few comments that could be paraphrased as, "You're not who I thought you were."

I was not transparent. (Perhaps the people that knew me for decades could tell if I was mad or sad... I tried to hide those for a long time, and obviously they sorta leaked out everywhere. Embarrassing, shameful mess.)

But, as I am learning to be transparent, REAL, with you blogger-stalkers, but also with the Better-Half, parents... anyone... if I am transparent,

I COMPLETELY FREAK OUT.

I immediately pull back. I block all feelings again. I start repeating, "I have nothing to say," because I have made myself to stop feeling again. I really, really have nothing to say.

No one ever told me this, but I got the message pretty early on that I was supposed to be happy. All. The. Time.

Elizabeth Esther said it well:

I'd operated under the idea that the only acceptable emotion was rejoicing... And you were never just sad. You were "sorrowing yet rejoicing."

[After she began to feel again...] So many emotions to feel! A bountiful HARVEST of emotions. Oh, dear, sweet, GLORIOUS emotions!

But it was scary, too. Managing my emotions was turning out to be a full-time job. Once you start letting yourself feel, well, HELLO NIAGARA FALLS OF EMOTION, how do I stop you now?

I would let myself feel for awhile and then I'd go scurrying back into Not Feeling. It was safer.

And that is exactly it. If I (you?) let my Good Girl Self be honest about, well, anything really, it opens the flood gates for things that have been pushed away for a reason.

When I am (now) honest, often nothing happens. NOTHING. I then wonder why I waited so long, why I was so afraid.

Sometimes, SOMETHING happens. People don't respond to fake. Fake is a lie.

REAL gets reactions. REAL gets you heard. REAL is a powerful place to be.

To feel... to be honest, with yourself and everyone you meet, is exhilarating. Terrifying. Freeing.

Real, actual, living?

I recommend it.

Is transparency terrifying? Are you easy to read?

No Added Value

It is 100 degrees right now. That's 100 degrees American. That is 37.77777778 in EverywhereElseInTheWorldius.

Are you guys as worthless as I am in this kind of weather?

I don't want to add to the Facebook complaints you are seeing all ready.

Not really....

...just glad that everything lasts for just a season.

If you need me, I'll be in my closet staring longingly at my sweaters.

Three Things Thursday: Do or Die

1. DENIAL. Fingers in ears, I can't hear you, LALALA, DENIAL!

This is hard to believe, but it's back to school time in this part of the world. My parents and sister are back at in-service. The better-half has been working at all the before-school band camps. The kids start in a few days. I start right after that.

While this has been a fun summer of regular posting, the blog will go back to my regular, irregular schedule. I will post quality (Ha... FINGERS CROSSED, KNOCK ON SOMETHING) instead of quantity.

2. This (What Took You So Long?: The quiet hell of 10 years of novel writing) hit too close to home. If you are taking forever to finish a writing project... I would tell you to read it, but it hurts an awful lot. Your call.

3. Remember this? Last year, I wrote a letter to my future self... to be read in August 2010. I plan on writing one again this year... but I see a thing or two I need to take care of first. Jinkies.

What are your three things?

Quick!

Internet! One Question.


WHAT IS YOUR ONE THING?


If you had one cause you could send your money to, what would it be?

What is one thing you care about?

What is one thing you hate, want to fix, or want people to be aware of?

Kids. Homelessness. Water quality. Hunger. Poverty. Literacy. Human trafficking.

Or...

If you actually cared about something, what do you think that would be?

This is your chance! What are you interested in? What do you want to know more about? What is one thing you like/love/do? One word or a paragraph.... go!

Kind of Like the Ice Cream Man Only Dirtier, More Belligerent, and Not Selling Ice Cream

This is Rachel Johnson. She has a very funny blog here. I met her in high school, when she sort of took over Life As I Knew It, and asked me to live a little. Rachel is funny, and honest, and the only person I know who can put together a work appropriate outfit for $2.76. I asked her to guest blog  because I want the world to hear her voice. 


You know how when you're a kid and you still have virginal ears that can hear the ice cream truck 7 blocks away? And you run inside in a mad tizzy, frantically trying to scrape together $1 in change for some frozen confection of pure bliss? And you run down the sidewalk because you're afraid he won't see you and he'll turn on another street and you won't get an ice cream sandwich and you might very nearly die?

That's a lot like adulthood in our neighborhood, only Ice Cream Man has been replaced by Skeezy Random Dude. And instead of an actual ice cream truck, he has a beat up freezer strapped down in the back of his pickup truck. And instead of dispensing ice cold lovelies from a semi-sanitary environment, he's hawking questionable meat products whose origins are unknown. And instead of running to him like a child to its mother, you quickly retreat into your home and shut the blinds and pretend you're not home when he knocks.

This is a lesson learned one evening when we heard a loud banging on the door. Thinking a neighbor's house was on fire given the intense pounding our door was taking, we rush over only to find a dirty man in sloppy clothes asking, "YOU LIKE MEAT?"

Given the smoldering grill on our front porch we enjoy barbecued flesh just as much as the next cavemen and were slightly confused at his oversight. "Yes? We just...ate...some?"

"I'M YOUR NEIGHBOR YOU MIGHT HAVE SEEN ME BEFORE AND I SELL MEAT DO YOU WANT TO BUY SOME MEAT?" 

Why he felt the need to yell run-on sentences at us we didn't know. "Well, we just ate."

"I'VE GOT TOP QUALITY BEEF IN MY FREEZER AND I'M ALMOST DONE FOR THE NIGHT AND IT'S JUST GOING TO GO TO WASTE IT'S GREAT QUALITY I DON'T OFFER THIS TO EVERYONE IT'S TOP QUALITY AND IT'S REAL CHEAP."

"No, thanks. We just did our grocery shopping and bought all of our meat."

At this point he makes it clear that we've lost our ever lovin' minds for not wanting to purchase highly questionable mystery meat from a grungy stranger. I find it hard to eat the food at office parties, food brought by coworkers, and I've known them for three years. 

We see him still driving around, hustling his wares, offering untold bacterial infections to all who will partake. You can keep your high quality gut bombs. I'll hold out for neatly packaged, unadulterated ice cream.

I Never Do This

...because, trust me. This should not be your source of helpful home hints.

But, this has just changed my life, and I wanted you to know. MY LIFE HAS CHANGED, YOU GUYS.

According to all my alarmist and half-true websites, American fabric softeners are banned in Europe. That's right, kids. The stuff we put in the laundry every day is not even allowed in stores.

Want to know why? Evil chemicals and terrible-for-you things. Dryer sheets start fires and have residue that clogs up dryer vents.

I stopped using fabric softener completely, but PEOPLE COMPLAINED.There's too much pollen and too many allergies here to line dry. I had to do something, but what?

I found the answer!

VINEGAR.

That's right. Plain ole' stinky white vinegar. I put it in the fabric softener dispenser, or you can use a Downy ball, or pour it into the rinse cycle.

The clothes are softer than when you use nothing, and cleaner than when you use softeners or dryer sheets.

It's awesome.

"Does it smell?" Well. Ha. A little. But just the laundry room. The clothes smell just fine. They just smell like clothes.

You could be saving a fortune, saving yourself for flying chemicals, saving the dryer, saving the septic tank or water lines, saving the planet.

What could be better than that?

WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE PLANET AND/OR MONEY SAVING THING?

Happy Weekend, Everybody

ME: You know what would make me happy? 
BETTER-HALF: Uh-oh. What? 
ME: A House Cleaning Day!! 
BETTER-HALF: You know what would make me happy? Sitting around. 
ME: But we do that every day. 
BETTER-HALF: I am happy. Every. Day.

So This Just Happened

Whoo!

My "Slacker's Guide to Friendship" was picked up by Girlfriendology.

Check it out!

Who Needs Free Time

You guys.


I know.


You are trying to A) recover from a holiday this crazy week or B) melting. I don't know what my New Zealand and Australian readers are doing. Freezing? Somebody tell me.


Because of that, today is Fluffy Day.


This is Alicia Gregoire over at Slice of the Blog Pie.


I heart her. And! She gave me "major award!"

I'm copying what she wrote because it made me giggle.

A couple of weeks ago, Erinn gave out blogger awards and I was one of the recipients. It's sort of exciting, since the last award I'd received was a senior in high school. With this the case, I'm overlooking the chain mail aspects of the award, changing most of the rules* and accepting it anyway.

I have said it before, I REALLY like bloggers. They are all so interesting. Rachel Held Evans had a book come out last week. Serenity just got back from New York, and I'm not gonna lie, I drool over her stories a little. Mandy is a song writer and has some cool meetings set up soon. It is all very exciting!


I actually read all those blogs over there, and I really, REALLY like them all.


For my award, I decided to talk about people who aren't on the Blog Roll. The blog roll, as insane as it is, can't contain all the new people (new to me, anyway), new stories, I've been finding.


My picks for versatile peeps are...

• This is Cole Harmonson at Pre Middle Age. I found her from Mandy, who was right to be a fan. Cole is side-splittingly funny.
• This is Elizabeth Esther. She writes about leaving an abusive church and is very, very real. She has a great sense of humor, too. She first heard The Beatles at twenty-five. Twenty-five!!!! This week she wrote about re-learning to *feel*. I relate.
• This is Nicole Wick. She is honest and open about porn addiction and adoption and authenticity. She has good stuff to say.
• This is Sarah Bost Askins. From Tolstoy to Tinkerbell (great name, huh?) is her blog. She knows my life.

These are great people. Go check them out.


Seven things about me that don't necessarily make me versatile...

1. Who am I KIDDING? I do nothing but talk about mahself here. Scroll down a post or two. Literally EVERYTHING THERE IS TO KNOW.
2. Who are you reading these days?
3. I am a rule breaker! Living on the edge! Wooohoooo! Stopping at three!!!

*By changing the rules, I'm not requiring my recipients to forward it along. And I'm not listing 15 people either. I'm keeping the 7 things about me, since I can.

** That was Alicia. I can't follow instructions.

Honesty Is Such A Lonely Word

I was going to write about honesty this weekend, but Matthew Paul Turner said it much better than I could. Honest to Blog. It is really great. Read it. Go!

In the past few days, a lot of people have used the word "honest" to describe me. This is bizarre on all kinds of levels.

First, I never use the word "honest" unless I'm describing a crazy person. Like, "Um, wow, thanks grocery store lady for telling me about your hemorrhoids and weekend nudist camp when all I said was 'hello.' I'ma walk away now. You are waaaaay too honest."

I have become one of them! I am an over-sharer!!

Second, it was not true a year ago. It was not even true weeks ago! I just became tired of trying to hide.

"Trying," is the operative word there. Nobody can really hide, you know? You see those people, don't you? The alcoholics who talk about headaches on Monday morning? The cheaters who talk about business trips? EVERYBODY KNOWS. I'm convinced that nothing is hide-able.



(I don't mean those labels judgmentally or maliciously. "Addict." "Cheater." "Alcoholic." I mean that when you are in the grip of some THING, that thing takes over your life... changes who you are. Believe me when I say that the finger is pointed back at me here. I wore me some labels.)

Whatever you are, whatever you think... it comes through you.

This feels terrifying, doesn't it?

Let me tell you. Worrying about being, "found out," is terrifying. Exhausting. Telling the truth saves a lot of time and effort.

Once, I was awake in the middle of the night. I am, was even back then, frighteningly honest after 10 p.m. I was wasting time on Twitter, and I said, "I am so tired, I would confess anything right now." Someone actually wrote back! My friend Meryl asked, "What is the worst thing you've ever been caught doing?"

I said, "I never get caught." Wink wink smiley face.

I was hiding. Totally chickened out. Even in my sleep-deprived-honesty-inducing-state, I couldn't bring myself to tell the truth. What was the point of telling her MY VERY WORST THING?

I've been pondering that lately.

WHAT IS THE POINT OF HONESTY? I'm not talking about the opposite of lying... I'm talking about confession, or revealing of self...

I asked this question once:
 
What is the difference between authenticity and over-sharing?

MLT said, "The difference is in intention: what is your intention in sharing... are you looking for attention, or are you confessing for a greater purpose?"

That is the best answer yet. Knowing her, I know she meant this: Therefore, confess your sins to one another and pray for each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed... (James 5:16).

So... what is the point of being honest? Why do I tell you these things?

It is really hard to tell, sometimes. The easiest person to lie to is ourselves.

Are you honest? Over-share much? Is authenticity the same as over-sharing?

Who Are You Again?

Yesterday, Muddleglum asked this:

Somehow I'm missing something, which isn't unusual. Could you tell me more about this blog? And the stories? And what freelancing you are doing? Or anything else that you can think of that might help me understand?

This is a great question, and I’m really glad you asked! (There has to be joke in there about asking a blogger to talk about herself.)

I once had a huge “About Me” section, but I am Blogspot challenged and it never went where I told it to go, so I just deleted the whole thing. Blogger Fail!

When I started this blog two years ago, it was read by my two Facebook friends and my mom. They  didn’t need to read “About Me.” Now that I’m getting emails from total strangers, I suppose it’s time to freshen up the joint, huh?

Also, if I had left an "About Me" here from the beginning, it would be all different today anyway.

Here goes it!

In 2008, I started this blog to talk about my freelance career. I dreamed of being a freelance writer since I was in eighth grade, and finally, FINALLY, life arranged itself to make freelance writing (magazines / newsletters / that sort of thing...) a viable career option. What I never planned on was hating it so much. The blog is still "Bethany's Freelance Life" because I can't decide what else to call it.

I teach developmental writing to college students. It is hard work.

I write fiction, young adult. I haven’t been published yet, but not for lack of trying.

I fell head over heals in love with writing this blog. I took off stat counters because they made me crazy. I could have a thousand readers. I could have four. I have no idea. Most likely, it’s somewhere in the middle. The blog is real: non-fiction... just my life. It’s not about the freelance career anymore. It has turned into a blog about life. Sometimes death.

Mostly, I am a mom, but people nod off if you mention that first. I talk about Jesus a lot, because the rest is all worthless without something to base it on.

There are three characters here. The Better-Half is my husband. I've known him since he was thirteen. I've loved him almost that long. Marriage is hard. I almost quit once or twice. He asked me not to ever write about him, but he's really cute so sometimes I do it anyway. The Big Kid is a six-year-old boy. The Little Kid is a three-year-old girl. Once, I gained and lost forty pounds.

My friends get called their real names. I adore blogs, so I talk about what other bloggers are doing. Even though I'm always going to be not-skinny girl, I just started running marathons so I talk about those. I use sentence fragments and run-ons BECAUSE I'M THE TEACHER AND I CAN. I like food and books and coffee and music and magazines; that's the rest of the fluffy stuff.

I currently live in the tiny town I was born in. I complain about this. I call it "Mayberry." I'm not telling you where I really live, because y'all could be crazy stalkers. I am obsessed with NYC, but that just makes me a little pathetic.

I am the redneck Madame Bovary. Despite being "Blessed and Lucky" (thank you Natalie Merchant), I get sad sometimes. I used to be fake happy, but now I talk about that, too.

When I am sad, I drink too much. Eat too much. I am now honest about that.

(This past week, I’ve been trying to tell a story that is not mine to tell. I faltered. Then weird stuff happened today which prevents me from finishing the story, so now it’s awkward. I hope to finish the story soon. The problem with blogging is that other people, real people, who live in my world, who I have to face everyday, are the ones you're reading about. I wish I could say more, but I think that is pretty clear.)

Thank you for reading. Thank you for asking.

Any other questions out there?


Who are YOU?

Sometimes the truth is small.

My life is small.

My problems are small.

My pain is small.

My God is not.

Before

Before.

Before my family met loss.
Before I saw a man die.
Before I fell into the complete mess I made for myself....

I came across this article. The author wrote of her small life. Her small town. Her small house. Her small church. Her small mind. Her small family.

She walked away.

She left it all. Her children, her husband. She moved to New York to live by herself and write.

I said to my dad, (because I couldn't tell the Better-Half this, not really), "I see myself in her. I could do that."

My father is wise. He said, "Just because we finally understand we are capable of sin, doesn't mean we have to go out and accomplish it."

She left it all.

I always wondered if she was very brave to leave. I wondered if she was scared to stay.

TO BE CONTINUED...