Tuesday, January 19, 2010

When Does It Become Permanent?

Question of the day: Well I want to pose a question but I'm not sure how to word it... so first an example...I've pondered this for a while and this was the best example I could summon...


So say you have a quote unquote normal girl. And one summer in college she decides to start stripping on the side for extra cash. At first it's just a job, but then it's like one thing leads to another. And after a while she starts thinking its okay to wear her work clothes to target on a Monday afternoon or its okay to sleep around. And then it's like soon enough everyone starts calling her a stripper. But it's like well yea she is a stripper.

Okay so that's the example... And I'm not necessarily meaning to pose this question in a stereotypical sort of are we just our jobs sort of thing. Or are we really only defined by what we do from 9-5 or in this case 11-6 a.m. But more in this sense: we may choose or have to do something temporarily and we make the choice to deal because it's just for right now. But at what point does that temporary thing become part of our lives and part of who we are and part of what defines us? And how do we know when we getting close to that point or when we arrive? And then what? Which is actually quite a few questions of the day but they go together...

I guess the "then what" part is easier for me to answer than any of the other questions, it seems so simple... you just change. You change a job or where you live or whatever you have to do to. And I know and suppose that's easier said than done... but I do not believe it's as hard as people make it out to be either.

The example I was really, probably very obviously, thinking of was me with cancer. It's had an inexplicable (well probably shouldn't use that word since I am trying to describe it right now) impact on my life. And when it all started it was just like, oh this is just a random pain. Then it was like oh this is just a couple of days off of work. Then it was a surgery and 4-6 week recovery. Next came the kidnapping (or what I like to call my move back to MN since it was against my will...) And the chemo insurance policy (even though we couldn't see any tumors). And then it felt over, finally. But no one told you how much it would take to put my life back together and then just when I thought I had that figured out for a little bit (thanks to my westward road trip experience) it was BAM! Deathbed for 3 months or longer... hazy memory from all that damn morphine.

Anyway my long drawn out point to all that, which I'm not sure why I re-wrote because it's not like everyone doesn't know all that already, but it when did this cancer become a permanent part who I am and affect the way I live my life daily and not just something I have to deal with for 6 months. I mean I just thought that I would have gotten the opportunity to press the "resume life" button by now...

I know so much of it has to do with perspective. And less than two years isn't a lifetime by any means, but I'm starting to get worried that this is changing who I am. Lately I just feel like I miss "annie" and I don't know where I went. I used to feel like I would slip out for a little bit but then after the chemo drugs wore off I was back. Now I just feel like I'm constantly fighting to maintain to be who I am.

I miss living as opposed to constantly just trying to survive. And not simply because of the happiness/joy slash lack of constant struggle aspect. But more because I miss the involvement of living. The social responsibilities and pressures. (Note: some strong generalizations may occur throughout the next sentances/ paragrahs... depending on how much I write) When you get sick 3 of the biggest things that get taken away from you are responsibility, accountability and structure. And then it's like what do you have left? A free pass to become as self indulgent as you wish?

I don't know... Definitely more on that to come later...

Sunday, January 17, 2010

The Return... Pause for Dramatic Affect

Mostly I don't write because I'm scared. Scared of what I might say, how that might or might not affect people (am I using the right affect/effect...damn 9th grade English I can never remember you), what I might discover about myself or that what I wright might be really something good. And then what if I take all this time to write this amazing novel and I never do anything with it... is that more of a waste than writing it in the first place?

I mean people tell me all the time, write a book or keep blogging but then the expectations start in. Oops hope that doesn't sound too egotistical. And to be honest, I think the "you should write a book comment" is WAY overused. And isn't it kinda cliche in a way? Some "big thing" changes your whole life and then you're supposed to tell everyone else about it so that they can be on the look out? Or know how to act or what to expect when it happens to them? Get your own "big thing" and figure it out!

I'm pretty sure I could write the s*it out of a story (Totally bragging) but what I get hung up on it what would it be "about". If I knew what the story was going to be about I could obviously just write the thing. I mean I feel like I'm writing term papers all over again in college. I do like the idea of writing a story about falling in love while having cancer. Not so much in the over the top romantic, Nicholas Sparks, "A Walk to Remember" sort of way but in a more documentary-real life-ish sort of way. MTV True Life - I feel in love with someone who has cancer... Ahhh if only I were 19...

And part of it, I think, is just not knowing what to say. It's like the earth suddenly turned over and is floating upside down like the titanic and the only way to get it right is to pull on this rope. And you pull and pull with all your might and you get maybe a second or a couple of hours things where things feel right again but then it's like WHOOPS the titanic flops belly up again. And the whole thing is, you never know how long you get, I mean none of us really do (barf cliche again), but I guess that's why you keep pulling so that one day the boat doesn't flip over again. mmmm... now that sounded and looked a whole lot better/different in my head... maybe that's why I always think of writing blogs (like on a daily basis) but never actually do.

Huh good thing this blog is free because I'm going to have to think of some way better material if I actually wanna get a book deal and get paid for giving people advice. Obvious insert of joke to deflect from the real emotion of the blog... just in case you missed the billboard sign that it was attached to...

But really, I mean, to get a book deal, they probably require you to have a point (a significant one at that) if you're going to convince a company to spend millions to go to print. So I'm waiting for a "point" to hit me over the head... And secret wish, I so wanna do a book tour while I'm bald. It would make for the greatest TV ratings ever! I can just see me looking fabulously stylish on "Live with Regis and Kelly"... People would love that crap!

But maybe it's not my time yet. Maybe I have to get through everything before I can know how to help someone else come up right side up from it all.

Another but... I am not a patient person (as someone has told me NUMEROUS times). And I do believe that gifts are wasted if they aren't used (not forever but the tarnish can be pretty thick) so I'm thinking I better get to writing more. Because what if this book really just is inside of me and it's waiting to pop out like a baby t-rex! aaarrrr!!!