Hello dear reader, whomever you may be–whether you got here by accident, on purpose, or through some terrible fate like being a member of my family and having a sense of personal obligation to click on this: welcome.
It is 10:52 pm on a Thursday night and I sit on my living room sofa with a hair clip jabbing into the back of my skull and a gnat flying around my head. The hair clip is small, centered against a part of the cranium closer to the neck that juts in, not too forceful–a mere nuisance. The gnat, however, is much more than that. It is a violent creature that will no doubt push me to the extant of my humanity as the night progresses on. I do not know why she is here. I only know that she is. (I use the pronoun “she” because I sexed the gnat before beginning this blog post. Determining the sex of small insects is one of my many rare talents.) Perhaps we will forge a friendship.
Is this how I thought we would get here? No. I always imagined some sort of jazzy, pivotal event kickstarting the beginning of my blog. Some current romantic encounter gone astray. Or at least something with a household appliance catching on fire. But instead, I have dedicated the first paragraph of my entrance into the blogosphere with a soliloquy to a gnat, and a misuse of the word soliloquy. (The gnat has by now abandoned me. Three hours of unwanted company and now that I need her she’s gone. Typical gnat antics. The truth is that she probably died. They have a short life span which, as I grow older, I find myself envying. No college…no post collegiate career…no IMPENDINGLY DOOMED MARRIAGE! The gnat is back.) Not the entrance I’d hoped, but an entrance nonetheless.
Accidentally Tragic has been on my to-do list for a number of years now. I have a lot of stories that I’ve wanted to do something with, but hadn’t quite determined what yet. But as I sat here to-night I decided it was time to determine. So here we are.
I’d like to preface my tales with a few things. First, I promise that the stories you find here will be true. Any and all embellishment, I will own up to. (In the earlier introduction, all is true except that I sexed the gnat. Sadly, I do not know how to determine the sex of small insects. I hope that we can move on now that this is out in the air.) I know JK Rowling said that just because it’s in your head doesn’t mean it isn’t real or something, but I think that’s bullcrap. I want my real stories to be real, so you’ll get real.
Next: I am a freak of nature, and a disaster. But I also think I’m really awesome. I’m writing a whole blog about myself, duh. So the inevitably, horrendously, self-deprecating humor and odes to death: don’t mind those. I am about to turn 21 and have big plans of turning to alcohol to deal with my crippling insecurity and emotional instability. Ask anyone who isn’t close to me; I emulate responsibility.
And finally, I’ll get down to the realy-reals and give you my reason for doing this. Other than wanting to capture and share some stuff that I think is pretty hilarious with people who hopefully will think it is kind of funny too, it’s because I think that embarrassment is exactly that thing which makes us human. Yeah, yeah, there’s love and all that crap, but embarrassment is the key to it all. Think about it–people who truly love you, it’s hard to get embarrassed around. Unless they’re trying to embarrass you, which in itself is the ultimate sign of love. Embarrassment keeps us humble and questioning. There’s nothing good about being 100% certain 100% of the time. And embarrassment–it happens to everyone. Whether they disclose their experiences when it’s time to share or not: every single person in the free world has at some point or another been embarrassed. It’s just genuinely a part of who we are.
And finally finally, I’m posting and sharing and celebrating these embarrassments because I’m a firm believer that being able to laugh at your failures makes you invincible. Embarrassment teaches us to laugh at ourselves, and at each other, and to not take everything so seriously. And in a world of so many messes, it’s just great not to take things seriously sometimes.
So, join me on what promises to be a probably too personal, somewhat interesting, and at least good-distraction-from-what-you’re-supposed-to-be-doing-y journey. It’ll be sort of like reading into someone’s diary without them ever knowing that you did. Disturbing, but twistedly satisfying. Let me satisfy you.