Originally published between 2015 and 2018, this post has been updated but preserves its original publish date as best as possible as content is migrated from the archives of The Flavored Word.
It’s funny how some people like to talk about themselves and others don’t. I mean just poke around the blogosphere long enough and you’re bound to land on one of those blogs where someone’s always complaining about their boss, crowing about some newfangled recipe they made for dinner last night (usually just another way to make some stupid casserole), whining about their weight, or worst of all bragging about how their child pooped on the potty for the first time. What? Do I sound cynical? It’s OK. I’m used to it … hell just yesterday someone reminded me that I am a cynic (as if I needed reminding). Although come to think of it, I’m really not that cynical … sarcastic? (So, I’ve been told.) Do I mock people? Ummmm … maybe … but it’s all in good fun … and well, IF the lady in the office across from me is going to wear that she has to expect some kind of vexing. Am I right? (Please, don’t answer that unless you agree with me, besides, IF you could see her, you’d know what I mean.)
Anyway, back to what I was getting at, I’ve always found it interesting how some people wear their heart on their sleeve and feel the need to tell complete strangers their deepest darkest secrets. Like on an airplane … of course every now and then it would be nice to have airplane intimacy with someone … you know, someone you could tell absolutely everything to because you’ll never see them again. (Of course it helps if you don’t believe in seven degrees of separation.) But some people don’t need that. Some people can open up and tell all to anyone, anytime. Almost as if someone was writing their life story and needed to know every juicy and not so juicy detail. As if the world’s most famous author ever was taking notes so they could pen a bestselling biography. Me? I’m not like that. Not one bit. I like hiding behind my cloud of sarcasm and mockery. It’s safer. (I know … I am the poster child for Psychology Today but alas, they haven’t caught me yet.)
And for the record, IF I were sitting next to the world’s most famous author ever and IF they were writing my biography, I wouldn’t tell them the truth anyway … because sensationalism sells, and well, if it was going to be a bestseller I’d have to come up with something a bit more, you guessed it, sensational. At least as far as you know (wink, wink).
Cover image created with Google AI.
DISCLAIMER: I’m a writer and an editor. And I try my best to make sure every post is articulate and free from errors. However, being that I edit my own work—and it’s next to impossible to properly edit your own work—I admit, occasionally there may be an error or two I miss. But doing so doesn’t make me an idiot so don’t be mean. Just smile, pat yourself on the back for finding an error and be glad you’re not the only one who makes mistakes sometimes … xoxox
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