I've been wanting to tell my brother about this blog, but I haven't trusted him since the day we came down on different sides of a hypothetical situation. The conversation was a year ago, shortly after I'd finished my NaNoWriMo novel. A NaNoWriMo novel is a novel you write in one month. The emphasis is on quantity, and there's no time for quality. I was explaining to my mother and brother that although I had not burned my novel YET, I certainly didn't want anyone to (*shudder*) READ it, and I was worried now about dying unexpectedly and having the novel discovered among my possessions.
Anyway, my mom and I started envisioning a "Burn When I Die" box: you'd use it to store all the things you don't really want your relatives finding unexpectedly through their tears: bizarre feti$h magazines, documents related to your secret marriage and subsequent secret annulment, novels so gaggingly awful you fear people would be relieved the author was no longer with us, etc.
My mom said, as I knew she would, that if I had a "Burn When I Die" box, she'd burn it for me without hesitating or peeking. I knew this would be the case: when I was a teenager, I had the only mom in the universe who would walk past my open diary in a deserted house and actually move a little further away because she didn't want to accidentally see anything.
But my BROTHER said that he would NOT burn the box. No. In fact, he would in good conscience make a deathbed promise to burn it, and then consider the promise meaningless when the person had died, and he would root through the box right after the funeral--or perhaps before, if it was an afternoon funeral. Dead people don't have valid contracts, was his point of view.
You see, perhaps, why I am not sure I can let him go rummaging around in my blog. The blog in which I might want to complain about my brother, or talk about S-E-X, or discuss my plans to steal his half of our inheritance.
But I'm finding I have to constantly talk around the blog: I'm always monitoring my Next Thing To Say to make sure I'm not about to say something about one of our discussions. More than once I've had to say, "Uh...I read on someone's blog that..." when I want to mention my own blog. This is getting silly.
So I've told my brother and my sister-in-law about the blog. But! Now I need to do a big edit. A biiiiiiiiig edit. Imagine you're talking on the phone to your best friend, and no one else is home. Now imagine your husband is in the room. Now imagine your husband AND your mother-in-law are in the room. With each new person, you have to think more carefully about how what you say will be received, or who might be hurt by it.
It is hard to decide where to draw the line. At what point is it so edited, I'll need to start a new secret blog so we can still have our private phone conversations?
Summer sleep-away camp supplies - I am in a TIZZ about Elizabeth going to Girl Scouts camp this summer. I’m GLAD she’s going, and I’m glad she WANTS to go, but it’s a week and this is the f...