Diary of a Network Geek

The trials and tribulations of a Certified Novell Engineer who's been stranded in Houston, Texas.

12/7/2005

Writing Personal Essays

Filed under: Advice from your Uncle Jim,Criticism, Marginalia, and Notes,Deep Thoughts,Life, the Universe, and Everything,Personal — Posted by the Network Geek during the Hour of the Dog which is in the evening time or 9:02 pm for you boring, normal people.
The moon is a First Quarter Moon

Well, that is what blogging is all about, no?
I’ve actually had this book, Writing Personal Essays: How to Shape Your Life Experiences for the Page, sitting on my shelf for more than a year and am just finally getting around to reading it. I’ve been reading so many insightful, thought-provoking, gut-wrenching, velvety, and just really well written blogs, not to mention the ones that sound and feel so familiar, that I’ve been inspired to improve my own writing, especially on this blog. Well, perhaps “shamed” is a better description.
A friend of mine recently asked, essentially, “Dude, what’s up with the Mr. Sensitive posts?” Frankly, I have no idea. Blame it on the rain. Blame it on the holidays. Blame it on my birthday which is circling like a giant, black vulture. I don’t know, maybe it’s just that I held back so much for so long because of who I was with or life circumstances or whatever that it got all backed up and now it’s pouring out because there’s no where else for it to go. Maybe it’s the repressed exhibitionist in me sneaking out. Hell, it might even be that my friend who’s a month or two out of a year long engagement has a date but I can only seem to meet interesting girls on the Internet, but I’m always “nice guy” material, not “wow, he’s hot” material, and never will be. Ick, that sounds so bad when I put it in black and white.

This all comes back to that old question, “Why do you blog?
Honestly? What’s behind the thoughtful posts lately? You really want to know? What else? Girls. Why else have I done anything in my life, worthwhile or not. It’s always in relation to those marvelous, mysterious, fascinating and infuriating members of the fairer sex. Which is a misnomer, really, since I’ve never known a one of them to play fair. Always batting their eyes and making my hands all sweaty or my heart skip a beat. Sadly, the thing I miss in this particular medium is hearing their voices and seeing the expressions on their face. I can watch a woman’s lips move and not even hear what she’s saying after a bit. All that matters is seeing the magic of those delicate lips and teeth and tounge move in harmony. And, while some guys might be “leg men” or whatever, for me, it was always the eyes. And, the ears, freakishly. Something about a delicate, pink, shell-like ear that always makes me want to tell stories. And, there’s the change. I have a more feminine audience and, suddenly, I find myself wanting to explain, to justify, to persuade. All those things and more.
But, of course, the classic melancholy of a writer kicks in and I’m sure that none of them are really reading this or would really listen to me in person. Who would want to listen to my foolishness? I tell myself. With all the truth and honesty in those blogs I linked to up above, who would want to spend their time sifting through my verbosity to find the tiniest grain of truth that even I forgot was there?
In the end, that’s all I want. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. Someone to listen to me. Someone to hear.
I saw a movie with Jennifer Connelly in it this weekend. She was laying on some lucky actor’s chest, playing with his sweater and looking all wistful while he was saying something. Her pale green eyes were all but translucent as she said her line. Of course, I was so busy watching her mouth move that I have no idea what she was saying. It hurt so bad that I had to get up and leave the room. How could I have misjudged my ex-wife and my life so badly that I actually married someone who didn’t understand that was all I wanted? Even after I told her? And, now, there are days that I feel like that will never happen. I think, sometimes, that’s the way it should be. That I’m just meant to be alone. Worse, I’m getting used to the idea.
And, now that this little essay has gotten a little too personal, so I’m going to go have a drink. A strong drink


Advice from your Uncle Jim:
"Real happiness is when you marry a girl for love and find out later she has money."

6 Comments

  1. I remember times like those in the movie you mention. Having a girlfriend in rapt attention seemed like heaven. Then the reality of our lives would slowly start to be revealed and those moments came less often and finally ceased entirely, the illusion of perfection broken by some stray word or series of revealing actions.

    My wife and I don’t have moments like those. We may lie close on the couch or snuggle in bed, but the illusions we wore like Mardi Gras masks have long been abandoned. She knows what a selfish jerk I can be, just as I know her weaknesses. We’re left to deal with our humanity. And that’s something I’ve never seen in a movie, but wish I had. I wish Hollywood would have lured me into the waters of romance with the awareness that I would find both happiness and reality. Instead, it clouded my vision so that when I did go into the surf, I didn’t expect the salt and chill, and when I waded to shore, gasp and cold, I was amazed to find that I was still wet!

    Here’s a towel.

    Comment by Pol — 12/8/2005 @ 7:22 am

  2. Wow, and I thought *I* was a cynic!

    Actually, what you describe is what I meant, saw, and want. Just being together is enough, right? No words matter anymore. All that matters is being there. And, as I recall, the wife is still pretty into you, even after the Hell you’ve put each other through, neh? What could be more romantic than that?

    Comment by the Network Geek — 12/8/2005 @ 8:03 am

  3. I think relationships are amazing and I’m grateful for my life.

    Our culture simply does not prepare us for the downside of life. My daughter stubbed her toe the other day, I mean really whacked it. She went down into a ball, tears flowing. She looked up to me a moment later, obviously in great pain, her eyes begging for me to help. I said, “Relax and feel the pain. Don’t push it away…it will go away faster.” I wish someone would have said that to me…it applies to skinned knees and broken hearts equally well.

    Comment by Pol — 12/8/2005 @ 8:14 am

  4. I am happy to read your blog! Blog on friend, blog on!

    Comment by Sweet Reagan — 12/8/2005 @ 10:37 am

  5. Sorry you’re in such a discouraged state of mind, Network Geek. Thanks for the compliment (the, uh…actual compliment, the link, I wasn’t being sarcastic about your cynicism regarding the opposite sex). I would like to think that if you take anything from my writing, it would be the solace that women suffer, too. Even the ones that you think are just batting their eyes, most of us have ooey-gooey hearts.

    Comment by Jill — 12/8/2005 @ 11:17 pm

  6. Aw, well, I think I know most ladies are more “ooey-gooey” than I’m used to. Remember, I got divorced this year from a woman I now referr to as The Harpy. As my head-shrink said last night, she’s her own special kind of different. Well, maybe I’ll find a nice girl who’ll change my tune for me, eh? 😉 Though, what I really meant by that wasn’t so much that women are cold and calculating, because most aren’t, but that men are such fools for women, because, most are. God knows, I have been. And, I’m sure I will be again.

    Comment by the Network Geek — 12/9/2005 @ 5:38 am

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