I was nominated for the Mystery Blogger award. The rules of the award stipulated I needed to share three things about myself.
That doesn’t sound very mysterious.
When I first got into blogging my feelings onto the internet, I gathered a few of these chain letter-style awards. As older bloggers scoffed at them, shrugging them off for not being a VOTY or monetarily-laden, I upturned my nose back at them.
We are insecure, insane, and attention-seeking… who are we to ever complain about any sort of acknowledgment of our efforts?
Well, a good majority of us are also somewhat pretentious; so I guess it makes sense.
Thank you, Laura, for nominating me for this award. It means a lot to me.
To be honest, accepting this award makes me feel like uncomfortable. Even after the time and effort I have put into being mysterious. I mean, into blogging.
The truth is, I am not mysterious. I reach my hand into the skeleton filled closet and pick at random. I then dress my skeleton and stick it in the yard with a giant sign that reads, “LOOK HOW FUCKED I AM IN THE HEAD.”
I went to a blog conference over the summer where a fellow blogger later commented I wasn’t what they were expecting. As I apologized profusely for not living up to their expectations, they told me how they expected me to be more in your face.
I told them I would work on it.
Maybe if I hadn’t been so heavily medicated on the trip (Read: drunk for three days) I could have been more in your face.
These days I tend to shy away from the brashness I carried arrogantly through my teens. A part of reaching my zen, man, was to take a step back and realize the spotlight wasn’t where I wanted to, or liked, to be. I prefer not making a scene. I can still be boisterous, but it is more reserved for private celebrations and embarrassing my in-laws.
Speaking of my in-laws, after my mom died I was left with this profound grief that followed me like Death. I began to live out these fantasies of how I could have been a better son to her. My mother wasn’t the greatest, but we only get one of them. I began to buy my Mother-in-law flowers. Why? Well, I never got the chance to buy my mother flowers and felt it was something a son should do.
I doubt my mother-in-law will ever consider me her son. I don’t care for her to. But, whether she knows it or not, every other week when I have her flowers delivered to her she is a surrogate for my dearly departed mother. I choose not to tell her the reasons behind my actions and I am sure by the uncomfortable moment the flowers always cause she doesn’t get it. I prefer it this way.
That is another thing. I don’t like doing things for the sake of acknowledgement. I prefer to just do them as altruistically as possible. From the moment I learned about altruism, I attempted to make it more of a mainstay in my life. In psychology, we debated if you could ever be altruistic. You could argue, as we did in class, that if you do selfless acts to feel good inside, they aren’t truly selfless. I always leaned towards the “What the fuck does it matter” side of things but then again, I am not the most philosophical person. Here’s what I know, the times I have been poor or near-homeless in my life, materialistic things didn’t matter. I won’t allow them to matter now that I live in a stable environment. What are things anyways? You tell me how I can bring my Xbox or bank account with me to the afterlife and maybe I will begin to covet both a bit more.
There were questions to answer in this mystery blogger award. One about favorite animals. Another about how you started blogging. Pretty little ice breakers. I feel as if I have already betrayed enough of my mysteriousness today, so I will kindly decline to answer them.
Anyone can be a blogger and I believe everyone should write. Even if it is ‘I hate my fucking boss’ every day on a slip of paper. There is something nice about getting your emotions out in a controlled, chaotic, way.
I am not mysterious. I am like Bob Dylan winning the Nobel Prize for Literature. It doesn’t quite fit but I feel I have left enough of a mark people can’t grumble too much. And I am honored, so honored, to have peers think of me when doing stuff like this. It always makes me feel honored to be recognized, especially by the writers around me.
Thank you, Laura, again and again, for the nomination.
I guess I should nominate someone. I won’t. I will ask everyone a question though.
What is your story?