Not Mainstream
I’ve never been mainstream. It goes back to kindergarten—I was doing things in the doll corner that belonged after midnight, things my three friends weren’t doing. If I could make people from scratch, I’d make everyone even more different from each other, at least in character and taste. I believe in world peace and in helping mean-spirited people learn to relax. Men who think they can’t wear purple because they’re men irritate me. I hate those man-woman clichés. Women drive Formula 1 cars, men love shoes, men can be as creative as women. Football does nothing for me. I love kissing on park benches and watching stuffy mustache guys get uncomfortable. Really I’m just trying to show people a better way to live.
I hate bus workers who won’t help the elderly or disabled. I love art. Badly behaved kids make me furious. Smelly fish restaurants, no. The internet fascinates me—the anonymity of it, extraordinary places, the chance to make someone happy. Web 2.0 miscommunication drives me crazy. I love to travel. I love capturing good moments. Polaroids especially—nobody gets to see my secrets. I hate discovering over and over that coconuts aren’t Bounties. I love being told on Twitter that someone loves me, saying it back. I like sharing things. I love that feeling of mutual care, of looking out for each other.
My dream is owning a small, lonely island someday. A place to rest, think, and design. I want to blend my life with another woman’s, enjoy it, discover it, travel it. I don’t ask for much. If you’re reading this, you probably read the same blogs I do. Traveling alone isn’t much fun. I want someone I trust there when we discover new worlds together, and then at night in the hotel room by the fireplace, we slip back into our own world. Life’s too exciting to experience alone. You can’t hold all those moments, all those impressions, by yourself. If we don’t find each other soon, how will we tell our grandchildren about it all later?
I just want to feel loved. What you look like hardly matters. If you were bullied in kindergarten for being different, there’s a good chance I’ll find you extraordinarily beautiful. I buy everything on eBay because it’s faster, and if you want to test that underwater camera I just bought, if you want to go swimming, get in touch. Or maybe you like baking and we can make cookies before Christmas—I can’t do it myself—eat the dough together, both get belly aches. Halloween just passed. If I’d written this sooner, maybe we could already be out scaring kids together.
I miss those moments. Nobody comments on my blog because I barely maintain it anymore, but a nice email here would mean a lot.