I’m late, that’s what I am.
Late for this first #blogging101 challenge partially because I didn’t check my emails and partly because I’ve been trying to work out just who I am and why I’m even here. I mean, that’s a pretty tough first assignment, to ask such deep questions when the best scholars through the ages haven’t even been able to answer them. What hope do I have?
I don’t even know why I’m here or what I’m trying to achieve.
I like to pretend that I’m a writer, even though I never know what to write. I like to pretend that I have an audience that are interested in my gripes, rants and amusing little anecdotes and one of these days I’ll have an audience and I’ll write something that’s worth their while. I like to pretend that I’m sitting somewhere far away, like 1950’s New York or 1940’s San Francisco or even Victorian England, but I’m in 2014 suburbia. I like to pretend that I’m sitting in a fancy parlour, sipping endless cups of tea while I glance longingly at the handwritten manuscripts at my feet, the ones I’ve spent an eon writing and I have publishers vying for the rights of said marvelous manuscripts, but I limit my tea intake and there are no manuscripts or publishers and at this rate, there won’t be.
So, let’s just say this is my virtual world and I’m here to type virtual nonsense (see what I’ve done there) as often as I can. I have fast become one of those Grumpy Middle Aged Women that you see in the streets (or you don’t see, because we are invisible…) and I look forward to one day walking down the street in my Victorian finery complete with cinched-in corset showing off my still youthful waist, waving about my parasol at the young hooligans who should be out there getting jobs and respecting their elders by showing common courtesies, and stuff like that.
And now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to trawl the internet for said corset and a lady-in-waiting to help me cinch it in just so. By the way, it is so very nice to make your acquaintance.