The painful thing about the room was a towel hook on the back of the bathroom door. It was about four feet off the ground, so of course I walked right into it at full force.
That was four days ago. This was my arm this morning. I just don't know why Mr. Date Guy doesn't think I'm worth any effort. I mean, this is all sorts of sexiness.
And, yeah, it's sort of gross to post a photo of a bruise on a blog. But on one hand, I just had to share. And on the other ... I have received lots of kudos lately for being so honest here. These comments surprise me.
It's easy to be "so honest" when you don't have your real name on a random blog. But, to be fair, almost all of my friends and my family know about this blog and just might even read it.
More than that, it all goes back to the bruise. It's hard to not be authentic when you're hurt.
When my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer 11 years ago this month, one of the exhilarating side effects was that our family suddenly didn't have time for shit. We were hurting and had Important Stuff going on, so we just starting cutting to the chase. We didn't have the energy or the time to pretend like things were ok. We got honest, even when it got ugly.
Same thing happened to me when I broke up with Ex-Ex, and when I broke up with The Ex-Boyfriend Formerly Known as Mr. Wonderful this fall. How could I possibly pretend when I was spending all of my energy on just getting through?
Now that I'm a little more situated, I wonder if and how this authenticity will last. And I've decided that I want it to. I'm learning more and more about myself, about who I really am, and this blog is a part of that. I'm finding that I like myself. And why would I not want to be who I really am?
Besides, after a while, this authenticity stuff is really, really easy. It feels lazy. It's sort of like showing up to work with bedhead. At first you're sure everyone is staring at you, and then you realize that their hair is all fucked up, too.
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5 comments:
I hate seeing you bruised. Poor baby. (I mean that sincerely) I did love hearing about the decorated handle bars in the room - that cracks me up.
I had a lot to catch up on here tonight. Can I say that I admire your traveling abilities? I do. I am impressed with your self sufficiency and I've got this attitude. I have always thought that you can do what you have to. I will still think of you during my flight but I am calling for flying meds tomorrow. Maybe you can send me some encouraging flying words and I can print them out and put them in my pocket as a good luck charm.
I like the attitude on mr. poophead date guy. He already sounds self centered and wishy washy. You don't need THAT again unless you get bored. He might be good for a movie or drink now and then. No more shaving legs for that one.
I have failed you. I did not write a haiku in time. Hubby and I started on it more than once but did not get it done to our liking. So, off the cuff tonight, here is my belated but promised haiku
Oh, Cha Cha my dear
You make me smile and giggle
You are my soul friend
It is not clever and I hate that it is so hard to make haiku-s rhyme. I must rhyme to feel it is finished. So, maybe on my flight I will work on a rhyming poem for you.
Marsha
Oh your last paragraph made me lol! You are totally my friend, for life ;o)
I wish my arm looked that good now. Even with the bruise. How can that not be found sexy..?
Personally, I think he see's your arms as nice and toned, and has realized that you could quite possibly kick his lame ass into next week... so yeah, that's it, he's scared. Well, no time for pansies here. As a service to him, I'd sign his ass up to an online dating service, listing his lovely little traits as you've noticed them. Then I'd leave him a message notifying him that you have helped him to move on, with a link to his new life. ;o)
And {{{hugs}}} to your Mom. Eleven years post, and Mom of you. Now that's an amazing woman.
This is a great place to "put it out there" and build confidence in your love-worthiness.
You are blessed.
I hope that bruise heals soon--I'd walk into a poorly placed furnishing too.
Hello, the bruises? I am the world's biggest clutz and have many of my own bruises to prove it.
If you keep posting shit that sounds like the inside of my brain, I'm going to have to marry YOU instead of CCB.
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