Tuesday, February 7, 2012

I wish I was anonymous

I am caught in the eternal dilemma of the blogger.  I am surrounded by outrageous people but feel very limited by what I'm allowed to write about them.  So, do I write the funny, often bizarre, rarely appropriate stories of what these people do, or do I preserve friendships and save my house from being burned down by the crazed madman friend who said he would do exactly that if he ever recognized himself in the blog?  (There's seriously something wrong with that guy.)

It's harder in Seattle.  In Paris I wrote primarily about French people, none of whom were ever going to read what I wrote.  Here I'm writing about people who know about the blog and sometimes even read it if they are trapped in a small space with nothing else to do.

If I write the stories, I could lose all the friends.  If I don't write the stories, I could end up with a lame blog full of things my kids say.  So I guess the question is, how much do I really like these people?

While I ponder the importance of friendship, let's talk about people who definitely do not read the blog.  Let's start with Supermodel Neighbor.  Supermodel Neighbor is not yet my neighbor and probably never will be since The Goddamn House purchase is uncertain, plus Supermodel Neighbor may move to Portland.  I finally met Supermodel Neighbor last week while out walking the neighborhood with Seattle Mom.  He came out to say hi.  Super friendly guy.

I, of course, had my usual response to him, the thing I always do when confronted with a very good looking person -- I immediately went into a coma and declined to say anything at all, instead staring at the ground and muttering occasionally about the nice weather.  I think I also mentioned I used to put Lucien on a leash when he was younger.  Ain't I a charmer?

Looks like we have another Hot Thing One situation on our hands, posse.  Dammit, I thought I was free from the sorcery of beautiful people.

Supermodel Neighbor invited Seattle Mom and I to come see all the work he's done on his house.  Twice the visit has been planned and twice it's been postponed by Supermodel Neighbor, quite possibly because he's found out about the blog and is terrified of me.  I'll fix it, though.  I'm going to hang around outside his house, possibly dangling from the eaves and staring into the windows.  When he sees me, I'm going to say, "I'm not going to be ignored, Supermodel Neighbor."  That should show him I'm harmless.  Then we'll have tea.

Chamomile for me, please
(Nope, still not really him)


Let's see... I'd also like to mention our downstairs neighbor.  She's renting the studio apartment in the basement of our Tiny Cottage and we met for the first time over the weekend.

I apologized to her about the noise, as I'm sure it can't be easy living below us.  She said it was actually a pleasure for her to hear little feet running overhead.  It reminded her of growing up with seven brothers, and of her large family full of nieces and nephews.  She told me to let the kids run around the house without worry because it brings her great joy.

At that moment I blurted out "I love you!"  It was awkward, but sometimes you just can't fight the feelings anymore.


Sunday was the Super Bowl.  It was so deliciously American, all those beefy guys running around showing off their tight butts and tackling each other all sexy-like.  We watched the game with a handful of friends at a bar in West Seattle. 

There were, of course, lots of beers consumed and lots of unhealthy foods eaten, including bacon-wrapped dates that looked like testicles.  I waited until no one was paying attention before I put one of those in my mouth -- last thing I need is someone taking pictures of me shoveling balls into my mouth and then "leaking" them online.  It would destroy my good name as a goddamn family friendly blogger.

this table is full of cheese and bacon


While waiting in the bathroom line, I heard a man whooping and screaming and carrying on obnoxiously out in the main bar.  The girl next to me suddenly turned and said, "Yep... that loud guy is totally my boyfriend."  The moment struck both of us as hilarious and we laughed so hard we had to sit down on the bathroom floor.  Don't you love it when stuff like that happens out of the blue with total strangers?  I live for it. 


There's a taco bus parked within a walkable distance of Tiny Cottage.   Having a taco bus parked so close means we eat Mexican food pretty much every single day.  It also means I sing "Taco-Flavored Kisses" from South Park pretty much every single day and let me assure you, Alex is indeed being driven up the dang wall.

But the great part is the weather -- it's been warm and crisp and clear in Seattle recently.  We've been eating delicious Mexican food sitting in our yard in the sunshine in February while the kids run around and there is not much better in this world.



Here are some pictures of the friendships I am trying to protect by not telling any of their stories.  I'm still not convinced they're worth it...






...dammit..... they totally are.


Your ridiculous secrets and lives are still safe with me, people,
MJ

31 comments:

  1. I love the way you write. You have immense talent. How about a second, anonymous blog? Obviously people you know personally must not know about it. Also, don't be too specific about yourself should you decide to go down that route (i.e. Northwest, married, 2 kids or something). Tempting?

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Tempting, yes. God yes. Time is the problem; I can barely find enough to post something coherent here twice a week. Still... tempting....

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  2. I'm loving the idea of the second anonymous blog, Miss W!:)

    I wrote my boss in Canada yesterday to tell her I was coming back at the end of my second sabbatical, but asked for an extra two weeks so I can stay here until the end of May. So if everything goes according to plan, on the 1st of June, we'll be on a plane to Ottawa:)I'm sure I'll get a few pangs towards the end, but I'm quite looking forward to the move... and sunshine! After two crappy Dutch summers, I'm really eager to see the sun (with my luck, Ottawa will have the crappiest summer in history after two tropical ones!).

    Could you buy the little cottage you're in right now?

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Duchesse! Look at you, getting ready to come home! I can tell you're excited about it. I'm looking forward to hearing what you think about living back at home after your years away. Pangs are inevitable (make sure you go out with style) but ahhhh.... home.

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    2. And no...Tiny Cottage not for sale. We already considered because tiny as it is, we kind of love the place. Who knows where we're going to end up.

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  3. MJ, you have a Posse to entertain. Responsibilities. A goddamn duty to uphold, woman. Call it what you will, but damn the Seattle Friends. If they were true friends (play that Catholic guilt) they would WANT you to be a successful blogger.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. That's right. Any friend who doesn't want me to tell their embarrassing stories is a bad friend. I like that angle, gonna work with it a bit, see where it gets me.

      Delete
  4. I would write it anyway and save it as a draft. You can always go back to it later and publish it if one of the people pisses you off. :)

    I just stopped writing my blog completely when I moved to Paris. With my husbands French family all up in my business I didn't want to offend anyone. I wish I had written stuff down and just not published it, but it's just not the same kind of fun when you are writing to yourself.

    ReplyDelete
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    1. Hello eMerly! Believe me, I'm taking copious notes. Then I look over my notes and think, "Craaaaap...... I totally can't write that." But the notes remain... and will indeed be used if any of these people step outta line.

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  5. I know exactly what you are talking about! It is a double edged sword, such good material and the risk of being alienated by that great material. You will figure it all out, we just know it!

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    Replies
    1. Hi Lisa. Thanks for the vote of confidence. I WILL somehow navigate this touchy slippery slope of friends and embarrassing stories. I hope the blog remains entertaining, and I hope my friends don't burn down my house.

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  6. imagine if you'd had that giant BBQ in Paris...of course it would have had to hang out your window somehow but still...

    and are you sure your kids are "allowed" to walk on the grass...jamais! surely you know grass is just for looking at.

    I say just change the names and go for it....

    and Duchess...sunny weather in Ottawa yes...but shame about your hockey team... hahahahahahahaha

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Damn, Debbie. Trash-talking hockey smack-down on the blog? I think you and Duchesse are Francophile soul sisters. You guys going to meet up when she's back in Canada? Must happen.

      My kids are allowed to walk on every single blade of grass in this city. It's incredible, Debbie, incredible. Can't wait for summer so we can just roll around in the stuff 24/7.

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    2. Debs, are you telling me the Sens have replaced the Maple Laughs as the crappiest team in Canada?;) I've been out of touch lately;))

      The Sens don't play in the summer, so no biggie;)) (Plus I'm married to a Habs fan.. and not a big hockey guy anyway... just the type who watches during the Olympics and playoffs;))

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    3. Gee... where did my last comment about the Maple Laughs go?!;)

      You know, I think this is a great idea, Mindy. Debs and I MUST meet once I get back:) Think we'd have a lot to talk about:)

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    4. hey Duchesse....the Sens are always the crappiest team..no matter what the standings say....

      and if we can figure out how to meet I'm game!!

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    5. Lookit me! Bringing the people together!

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  7. Replies
    1. Catch 22. I need friends for the stories. If I tell the stories I lose the friends. Man... blogging is so hard...

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  8. You are a blogger, with followers from around the world that live for your blog. Tell your crazy pyromaniac friends to suck it up, the world needs your stories. So what if they are embarrassed, it is a small price for them to pay for being friends with a celebrity.

    I thought we went to a good Superbowl party but we didn't have food that looked like testicles. Mmmmm.....bacon.

    Sorry the house deal is unraveling. Maybe you could just get a yurt and move into Supermodel Neighbors back yard?

    ~Melanie

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Yes, that's right! Celebrity! Me! (The friends are rolling their eyes right now, I think. Maybe they think MJ is gettin' too uppity.)

      Next year -- remember the bacon-wrapped dates. So testicle-y delicious.

      A yurt. A yurt. I die.

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  9. I feel your pain MJ. I wrote a "newsletter to friends about the quirky characters in this small Colorado town where I spend the summer. I had a huge following....that kept growing. Then I started my blog and stopped the newsletter. Didn't DARE say the things I said in the newsletter on a public forum where the locals could read it! Felt boring all summer just posting pretty pictures, when I truthfully had soooo many funny things to say!!! Let me know when you figure it out...J

    ReplyDelete
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    1. Prepare yourself for pretty pictures, Janey. I fear this is where we're headed...

      I probably shouldn't tell anyone new I meet about the blog unless they have a seriously well-developed sense of humor and no concern for their reputation. Sigh.

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  10. Okay, so many questions...

    1. How big are these dates that they're the size of testicles?

    2. What the hell kind of testicles have you been hanging around with that look like bacon??

    3. Why is there a bus made out of tacos on your street???

    You crazy Yanks.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hi Bec.

      1. The bacon-wrapped dates were somewhere between human size and maybe, like, pig size? Dog? Either way, I didn't need witnesses.

      2. The bacon was covered in a sauce. Look, I'm not going to get into details here because my mama reads this thing. It was a creamy sauce, OK? And it kind of looked like.... oh dammit, never mind.

      3. TACO BUS. YUM.

      Always, always, always a pleasure to see you on here, Bec. It's rare you don't make me laugh out loud.

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    2. Right back at ya, baby. Been going through some Stuff the past week or two, it's so nice to stop by for a coffee on your blog and be guaranteed of a smile or seven.

      So tell those friends of yours to sacrifice their anonymity for the greater good. And by greater I mean me. It's all about me.

      Delete
  11. You know, once you get alcohol in their systems, your friends are fair game for your blog.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I'm thinking I need people to sign a waiver before they interact with me in any way. Foretold is forewarned, everything after that is blog copy.

      I may not end up with much of a social life, but those who stick with me will be hella fun.

      How you doin', Mrs. Howard?? Thanks for stopping by.

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    2. And this is why I use a nom de plume. How else could I talk ish about the people in my life? Be so brutally honest? And now every time I read one of your posts, I'm going to feel like you are holding out. Tsk tsk. I say you get one of them fancy waivers and do it fast!

      Love this post, it was spot on!

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  12. Wow, I can't believe you didn't reference our week-late Superbowl of the jousting, ridick. fried chicken and Polly Pockets. You really have forgotten those "Paris people." Whitney said "I will always love you," but now I'm forced to ask "Where do broken hearts go?" Pouring a kir royale on the floor....

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    1. Bethie! Forget you? FORGET YOU? C'est impossible. I may not have written about our previous Frenchie Superbowl party this time around, but believe me, I was thinking about you all as I sat in the bar that day. I celebrated it the American way this year -- and missed the strangeness of our Frenchie celebrations horribly.

      You are safe in my heart, Paris people, but my heart must go on.

      Hugs to J and the kids!

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