My favorite internet librarian has graciously tagged me in a neat bookish tag that of course I had to do because I can’t deny her anything. If you have not met theorangutanlibrarian by now, well, I don’t know what to tell you except to give you this look that screams “you have a problem and you need to fix it now.” She was one of my first 10 followers and my 1000th comment (which btw, I’m quickly coming up on the 3000 mark orangutan so I hope you’re ready!). I could wax poetic about how fantastic her blog is and how much she’s made my blogging experience great but that pretty much sums it up so I hope you visit and follow her site because she’s truly brilliant!
If you look at the spokes of a tire or the hands of a clock you see the central mechanism and what it’s pointing to. The center controls the movement. Looking at your own life, you probably have many things that you work toward or care about. Each of those items can be listed as a spoke on your own wheel or a number on your clock.
This post will probably be all over the place so fair warning.
I spend a lot of time driving. My job is 45 minutes away, one way. Five days a week. I spend a lot of that time just thinking. I think about past conversations I’ve had with people and wonder if I said the right things or if I could have said something different. I often press rewind in my head to review the past few day or two and analyze. For example, last night I had quite an interesting conversation with a friend of a friend. When you meet your friend’s friend, there is usually an automatic impression. Its human nature. We can’t help ourselves. I wondered what he thought of me as I sat there thinking about all of the things I’ve heard and placing it to the face. The content of the topics we discussed were baffling to say the least. Here you have two black people, (and I have to define race here), talking about their feeling regarding interracial relationships. I like to think I’m a general, open minded person. My views are simple. You love who you love. Race doesn’t matter. Why should it? If the person you love makes you happy, that’s all that matters. He asked me how I feel about gay marriage. Same answer. I don’t care what you do in the confines of your bedroom. I hope its sexy as hell because that would make both partners happiest. He tells me he doesn’t like the white race. I didn’t know what that meant so I asked. People with white skin, he says, mainly of European descent. How do you know someone is European descent, I asked. Because I can just tell, he says. Instead of getting angry, I ask, why do you feel the way you feel? He says because if “they” wanted to change the way they treat black people they would. So I asked him, what do you do to change the way people view you. And he felt that striving to become a history teacher and telling the “real” truth would bring about necessary change. I wished him the best.
If you are what you read…then what exactly am I? A romantic walk on the beach at sunset? A shattered glass of wine and a screaming wife? A paralyzed author entrigued by the owner of a publishing house? …the grim reaper? (The last one may be my personal fav.)
One of my latest reads has of course (like most of them) come from my bestie and partner in crime. You’ll all get to know her well if you choose to follow us in any capacity, and I encourage you to, because she’s great…and super helpful!