My current, best lug bolt is blog writing. It does satisfy me by giving me a place where I can publish my writings/work with immediacy. I used to keep diaries with the fantasy that they would be read after my death – so I always made sure I named names when I felt someone was truly guilty of wrongdoing. It was my little, paper packed crusade. Blogging helps me indulge that desire while I’m alive – although obviously naming names of people that have actually done wrong is much more likely to have negative consequences now. Quite simply because those that do wrong prefer to shout such things down rather than investigate setting things to rights. The falsely accused tend to follow a trail of “how did this happen?”
Even so, it feels good to write blog posts – it sends my voice out into the world, a world where, before blogs and the Internet, I was routinely silenced or willfully misunderstood. I am a 52% introvert with bitchy resting face – or really, I just haven’t cultivated the “vapid and on constant verge of orgasm” expression women are encouraged to in this culture. I’m just too rude to fake it, ever.
The blog lets my real voice go out into the world – and yes, I really do talk like I write. There’s more than one social event I’ve attended where someone has stared at me wide-eyed and said, “…you really just said that!” I am accused of making these outrageous things up ahead of time and then using them as conversational bon mots.
Actually, the majority of the things I say here and in real life are spontaneous. I really do say things like “…and their Christmas letters mention how the last white picket fence raising went …” or “when the karma fairy comes to visit it tends to become orgiastic and gets glitter everywhere.”