So, if I ever decided to kidnap someone, I’d demand multiple pounds of pasta as ransom. I’d share the pasta with the person I kidnapped, of course. We’d have a pasta party and then he/she would go home and leave me to my pasta winnings.
Why is that, no matter how hard I try, I always seem to miss, like, 300 spots when I shave my legs? It’s always the same places too: the front of my ankle, the top of my knee and the back of my thigh. I’ve been shaving my legs since I was 12. You’d think I’d have it down by now.
I was watching Law & Order SVU last night, and Sergeant Benson was in a victim’s hospital room. At one point I noticed the whiteboard in the background of the shot. You know, the ones that live in every hospital room that list the name of the patient, his/her care team, the date, the time, etc. And just for a few moments, I could see my father‘s hospital room clearly. It felt like I was right there, staring at his patient board. Then that distinct image fizzled away.
I am incapable of accepting and believing compliments. So many of you have reached out with such kind words about my writing. While I am absolutely flattered, there’s always this voice in my head that says, “they’re just being polite,” or “they have to say that.” I told my therapist about this inability to receive compliments and she asked, “what motive would they have to lie to you?” And, you know what, I couldn’t think of one good answer. So, thank you, truly. Your words mean so much.
This post is very much a product of writer’s block. It combines my strong desire to write here and my utter loss for words and ideas of what to write about. So, I think that what this means is that my posts might be gibberish for a while.
I spoke to my mom on the phone a few nights ago and she said, “I saw your blog post about being back.”
And to that I say, I don’t know if I’m “back,” but I am definitely here.