Does anybody read these?

Stories

If you’re not telling your story, someone else is, and it’s probably not that flattering.

My Imaginary Internet Friend, Steve, from The Twitter said that today. If Steve “borrowed” it, I have no knowledge of this, but it inspired me.

This blog was created many moons ago (or six years at the end of the month) as cheap therapy. It was also a way for me to get my side of a long-forgotten story out, albeit in a totally passive-aggressive way.

All of that is neither apples nor oranges. It doesn’t matter these days. Some friendships have been patched back together, although they are not the same. Others have been left in the morgue. And a few folks are on the periphery but not completely discounted. Sad to explain friendships in that way, but much like people themselves, our relationships evolve.

This past weekend, I’d hoped that my friend Cindy was coming to town, but she didn’t make it. She’s got a lot of stuff going on, so I understood, but I really do miss her. I haven’t seen her in forever, and although we keep up with each other via email and Facebook, we’re not as close as we once were. After all the shit we’ve been through, it’s probably a miracle that we’re even friends, so I will take what I get, but I really need to make an effort to spend time with her. And besides, I really do like Alabama. (Don’t tell anyone I said that, OK?)

Ninety-nine percent of the time, I don’t give a shit about what story people tell about me. I think it’s funny that folks would even take the effort to tell stories about me, but whatever does it for you. Of course, we’re all concerned with how we are perceived and what people think of us; it’s only human nature. Of course, some people’s opinions you have to take for what they are.

I’ve been taking a mental stroll down memory lane lately, and I’ve thought of some interesting things. Occasionally, I catch glimpses of places, people and situations that are probably just best left in the past. Sometimes I wonder if I might have not learned my lesson about certain things.

It’s taken me a long time in life to like myself. And I am a good person, and if people don’t like me, it truly is their loss. I don’t have to make everyone like me. I don’t have the time or energy for that. Sometimes I wonder if people can see past the things they judge me on, and then sometimes I don’t care. I make no apologies for who I am, although sometimes I feel like I should. I know I can be a tough pill to swallow, but we’re all different. That’s what makes life exciting.

I need to do a better job of telling my story before someone else tells it for me. If nothing else, it’ll keep us all entertained.

posted by Laura at 12:25 PM