I know it may be hard to believe, but this blog is written by and about real, born-girl lesbians. I do all the writing and poor Jill, as is the fate of every writer's spouse, is the collateral damage. Fish gotta swim, birds gotta fly and writers gotta write about what and who they know.
Since party politics and popular culture are things that I am irresistibly drawn to and simultaneously detest, it is only natural that blogging would follow. How would a person, a writer, have the temerity to put words in print without the thought that somewhere, somehow, someone would want to read them? The ego of it all!
This is my creative outlet, the one most suited to my nature. I haven't developed the eye of a visual artist, nor the ear of a musician. I certainly do not have the physical proclivity for movement and dance. But words ---- they flow as naturally and easily as water in a stream. My greatest fear, given that both of my parents have had Alzheimers, is that the words will slowly disappear. Who will I be then?
Sitting on my couch spot, computer in my lap, coffee or iced tea gently nudging my nervous system, dog's nose against my leg ---- this is how I spend my days for now. I make myself get up from time to time, just to make sure my heart is still beating and my legs don't buckle under me. I know it's terrible for my health and well-being. I'm probably shortening my life --- I can practically hear the minutes ticking away and falling off the other end and crashing into the urn. But now, right now, this is it.
From time to time, my web-surfing and political rambling bring me to the point of action, and I'll load Buddy into the car and turn out for a rally. I posses the requisite beliefs, though maybe not the inclination, to lift my voice in chants or songs and demand change for the public good. In between, I post and repost pertinent articles and videos, mainly preaching to the choir, and write pithy letters to the editor or to elected officials. I can accomplish that level of activism with my feet elevated and the ceiling fan running.
What I am finding out, at this stage of the retirement journey, is that I am susceptible to information overload. Since I'm demonstrably addictive (30 years in recovery, for starters) I am in danger of crossing that 'invisible line' of web-content consumption. How different is it from other substances, when I imperil my physical health, put off creative writing, ignore Buddy's pleas for outdoor play and throw together dinner at the last minute? The negative consequences haven't overwhelmend me, and I hope they won't. I actually do attempt to strike some kind of balance in my days. But the lure is there, the hypnotic effect of the screen. Just one more link. Just one more game. This is absolutely the last video of baby fainting goats on you-tube.
Hm. I started this post because I just read about the second man posing as a lesbian blogger to be uncovered and exposed this week. On the one hand, who DOESN'T want to be a lesbian?--- Really! On the other hand, did I need to know that piece of information? Do I really need to know 95% of the factoids and opinions that I suck into my brain every day?
I think I'll get some iced tea and give that some thought.
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