I am a freelancer in the publishing industry, so words are very important to me. I'm a leftist living in a world gone mad, so politics are very important to me. I'm an environmentalist living in a degrading world, so pick up your damn trash, get rid of your gas guzzlers, and don't touch ANWR, you self-absorbed capitalists!

Do leave comments: let's make this a conversation. If you prefer, you can contact me at friuduric at yahoo dot com.

10 September 2007

Last week, MizMell named this site as one of the blogs that makes her smile. I was honored, and I have to say, it couldn’t have come at a better time.

Lately, I feel like I’ve been silencing myself. More and more people are visiting the blog, and my anonymity is pretty much hanging by a thread. Innocent comments by the Consort had me questioning whether I should be saying some of the things I say in this forum (I never thought I was being over-the-top, but I do have a tendency towards melodrama). Add to that a move near family (sure, it’s my in-laws, but moving close to my family would have created the same tension, believe you me [as the comments to my Christmas return post 9 months ago proved!]). So, even though my in-laws haven’t visited the blog since I began it two years ago, and even though I wouldn’t have said anything terrible about them, I’ve felt muzzled.

Then there’s the changing family dynamic. My kids are some of my most loyal readers, and right now I’m trying to get a handle on being the parent of two … errr … hmmm … growing kids. (Trixie at 11 insists she’s a pre-teen, Impera at 13 refuses to define herself as a teenager, despite showing textbook symptoms of teenhood.) I was comfortable in the role of Benign Dictator that comes with the territory of parenting young children. Whatever I said, went. I was the be-all end-all of happiness, information, and comfort. That’s changing, and although I believed in my heart of hearts I would be a near-perfect mom of teens, I find that I was deluding myself. Who am I, and who are these strangers in my house?!

So, today, I come back to tell all my readers: Caveat Lector. This is my web log. If you know me in the Real World, reading this is like reading my diary. It’s OK -- I know you’re reading it (I left it open on my desk, didn’t I?). But it’s mostly about my take on things; it’s not true journalistic reportage. If you don’t like how I’ve painted a particular encounter, well, I’m not going to change anything. (Come on, have I ever mentioned the orangutan foot fetish of one of the siblings? Or the warty nose of that one relative? No! I haven’t even mentioned that mustard and engine oil incident with the Sheriff in Anchorage.)

I think the move took more out of me than I expected, too. It had seemed like such a simple thing: move to a town 20 minutes away from where we had been staying. Except, now I don’t have my sister-in-law downstairs to cover all the bases I left in Iowa.

For example, I wanted to do some laundry.

BUT! We needed to get a dryer exhaust vent to be able to use the dryer.

After I bought one, we realized that it still wasn’t long enough to reach from where the monster electrical plug is set in the wall to the vent hole.

When we fixed that, I realized that I didn’t have any laundry detergent.

When the Consort bought some at the corner store, the used washer we had purchased wouldn’t start.

This morning, the Consort came home from work to put on new water connectors. (He was out of underwear, you see.)

I started some laundry, and was able to wash the fabrics I bought for a project I’ve been meaning to start for a week.

BUT! I forgot that although I brought the iron, I didn’t bring our broken ironing board, so I need to got out and buy one. Soon.

And then, for no apparent reason, this weekend I found myself wondering how pleasant or unpleasant it would be to have my mood chemically enhanced.