Tuesday, March 06, 2007

Sometimes I feel like a slut, sometimes I don't...

Scott said, "I have a request-- Can you describe what it feels
like to be you in minimalist language?
Prose, though, please, just concise prose..."

OK, here goes...

I often feel like a walking contradiction:
I love people, but spend most of my time, outside of work, alone.
I care about what people think of me (those that I care about/admire),
but I shun joining groups and am fiercely independent and value individuality.
I walk my own path.

Music is emotional for me, with or without lyrics.
I am in awe of the vision and talent in all creative endeavors,
whether it be painting, writing, sculpture, quilting, furniture, architecture,
photography or machines.
Emotional response there, too.

I feel satisfied, content and happy to absorb the beauty of
nature, air, light, animals.
I can spend hours just observing, feeling immersed... smiling at it all.
I think of wind and rain as Mother Nature cleaning house.

I value friendship, honesty and trust.
And, I feel pain when any of those are violated.
I worry about disappointing people I care about.

I feel like an emotional trampoline when I try to balance reality and heart.
I prefer to focus on the good in people and ignore the negative, but there
are times when that doesn't work out well. I keep trying.

I love good sex. When there is sincere caring and respect.
A fuck-buddy doesn't work for me. I've tried... more than once.
Porn does nothing for me. The acting is poor and there is no story.
I respect everyone's right to watch it if they like it.

I love to laugh and do it often.
I cringe when someone laughs at someone, as in making fun of.
But, I'm all over good sarcasm.

Until recently, I have always felt ageless. I still feel sexy.
I will be fifty-six this month. Both of my parents died in their sixties, and
I think that makes me feel vulnerable to an early demise, although the rest
of my relatives had/are enjoying long lives. That gives me hope.

Compliments given to me in person make me uncomfortable.
Too many men have ulterior motives, too many women are superficial.
Compliments received through the blog world are taken as sincere, because
no one here has anything to gain by kissing my ass.

Two of the biggest regrets in my life:
My husband's suicide. Not because I blame myself, but because he had the
talent and ability to give himself a good life.
The other regret is not attending my college graduation. I cheated my parents
out of a day that would have meant a lot to them.

I am not impressed by things, but quality matters. I don't need much.
I am not jealous of other people's possessions. I do not drool.
If people are happy with what they have, I'm happy for them.
It makes me sad and sometimes angry when the attitude is "it's never enough".

I would love it if someone put one of my poems to music.

A co-worker recently read some of my writing and said that I reveal more of
myself here than in person. Others agreed.
When I write, I feel a sense of freedom, satisfaction and accomplishment.
Nothing else I've ever done has made me feel the same.

Oh, yeah. The title of this post? Heh... gottcha!


I now have two questions for Scott:
1. What made you come up with your question?
2. Did I answer it the way you meant it?

23 comments:

Snog Dot said...

Damn! I could NEVER do something like that.

Jean said...

Jack - oh, pshaw... sure you could.
Is it shocking or what?

AspergantuS said...

Well...you feel neked now?

Jean said...

Mick - well, no... not at all. Is this too much info?... I could have done more, but...

AspergantuS said...

oh... no... it has nothing to do with what you wrote...
hehehe

Anonymous said...

I related... a lot!

It's very hard to define oneself when we're always changing, but you did a very good job.

Thank you for your openess and your honesty, it's inspiring.

michele
http://lettersfromnyc.mu.nu

Jean said...

Mick - read what Michele said...heh.

Michele - part of me feels like, at my age, I shouldn't be changing much anymore... perhaps it is a continuing discovery of who I am.
Thank you, dear lady.

Scott from Oregon said...

Well, as well done and revealing as it was, it was not what I was thinking when I asked the question. What does it "feel" like to be you?

When you sit there quietly and feel yourself, what does it feel like?

I'll give you an example-- There is always pressure on the bottoms of my arms. My arms are heavy. When I rest them, they are always imposed upon by their own weight.

When I breath, it is mostly through the nose. There is always turbulance in my nostrils due to the dust I encounter in my work. It clogs the channels. My nose always feelsconstricted but I breath that way anyway.

The pinkies on both of my hands are always slightly buzzing. The nerves across my palms have been damged and it makes my pinkies tingle ever so slightly all the time.

and so on and so forth.

So now if you do it both ways, we will know you like no other!

Jean said...

Scott - talk about misunderstanding! sheesh. sorry.

Scott from Oregon said...

No need to apologize. I think I'm gonna like both versions.

Hammer said...

Jean: Deep stuff. I can see similarities with the way I think regarding friendship, compliments and writing.


I'm really a private person and don't let too many people in. I've been like that all my life. It adds extra stress to keep up the armor.

Cazzie!!! said...

That was such a candid post, and I think you really are living some of my life here..I mean, some of the things you said were so like ME!!!
Only difference, I am beginning to feel sexy again, and haven't felt so in quite a while. I guess having 4 kids in 8 years would do that to you right?

Jean said...

Hammer - that wall can get heavy, for sure.
Thanks for adding me to your blog roll...:)

Cazzie!!! - 4 kids in 8 years??... lawdamighty!
I'm known for being 'candid'... thanks.
Welcome and thanks for commenting.

Erica said...

Wow, and I thought I bared all.

Jean said...

Erica - I definitely scared off some commenters with this one. Maybe I should be blushing, but I cannot, for the life of me, feel overly exposed. Is there something wrong with me on this?

Nea said...

Jean you and I have much in common, but I won't tell you what we have in common. haha

og said...

Dang. Nicely done'

Jean said...

Nea - sweet secrets, I'm sure...:)

Og - thanks... it's good to see you here again.

Sparrow said...

Bravely and well said. I may take a crack at setting one of your poems to music, I'll let you know if something decent emerges.

Jean said...

Sparrow - really?...music for a poem?...wow!

k said...

That was great.

Me, I don't think you revealed too much. But then I'm not much for parsing behavioral rules to begin with - and that goes triple for blogging. If not here, then where, for heaven's sake?!

Mostly I'm trying to figure out why I keep getting startled at how much I see in common between you and me, and us and our other usual haunts. It shouldn't really be a surprise, after all. We like to read each other because we DO have so much in common.

And I'm still trying to figure out if scott from oregon was joking, or not at all, or not at first but then later he was, or if I'm the only one who found his series of responses to you so hysterically humorous. Whichever - it was great fun.

Oh, scott from oregon, you do NOT want to know what it feels like to be me.

No.

Not at all.

And thank you BOTH for posing such interesting questions, since they're now rolling around in the back of my own brain, fermenting blog fodder...

Jean said...

k - your openness and honesty is always appreciated. Me?... got nuthin' to hide and not much will embarrass me anymore.

k said...

See? There's another one! Nuthin' to hide, and it's REALLY hard to embarrass me, too.