This week, I came out to Little, Anne-wise. (Sorry — ‘crossing the streams’ used to be the code phrase, but it started to sound like some golden shower/outdoor peeing kind of thing.)
I sent her my first year of posts, since taken down. Like boiling a frog, I figured if she started where I started, instead of throwing her into the present, there was more chance she wouldn’t jump away screaming and scalded. Or I’m a coward. One of those things…maybe both.
I hit send and immediately sweated through my shirt. In a daze, I sat for forty five minutes, occasionally pressing the SEND button, like some elephant in an elephant graveyard, touching the skulls with inscrutable and reverent horror of what has happened.
I stood up, intending to rehydrate and apply deodorant. But soon as my ass was in gear, I piled the kids into the car and fled the house. Grab your shoes. No time to put them on – you can do that in the car. To the park! Grocery! Repression!
Little hadn’t replied when I got home a few hours later. Or when the kids went to bed that night. I knew she had it, since we’d had this conversation only moments before I’d sent it: (Me) I’m sending you part of my blog. (Her) Fire away.
Late that night, her email arrived. This is the funniest shit I have ever read.
I’ve opened and closed the email about fifty times, reading it over and over, struck dumb with wonder. Each time I open it again, I go into it the experience sure I’ve misunderstood some context cues. It can’t really mean what I thought it meant. But then, there it is again. Acceptance. I close the email when I’m done, afraid some of its awesome will leak out of an open letter, like pixie dust dispersed into the bowels of my computer, never to be regained. Then, like thirty seconds later, I open it again to read.
*
As I walked through the kitchen yesterday morning, full of my own drama and self-induced exhaustion, I announced, “I’m blogging again.”
My husband turned from the counter, coffee cup in hand, and in perfect imitation of the Old Spice ‘Man your Man could smell like’ said, “Look at me. I’m Anne. I’m a blogger. Look away. Back again. I’m doing the cool thing. Back at me. Now I’m blogging.”
He raised an eyebrow, sipped his coffee, and leered at me before sauntering off. Can’t lie. I felt pretty badass.
So happy and excited for you. And a little turned on by your husband… since I have now decided he IS the old spice guy.
I have never fully understood why you were to reticent about sharing your blogging. But, I know I don’t know your whole story and I don’t know your other life at all. I just know Anne, someone I consider funny as hell and honest and searching for meaning/love/acceptance (all things a good human should do) and funny. as. hell.
Happy coming out month!
Ship that line right to a banner store, order up a sixteen footer, and paper the dang house.
Hold on, hold on, My sister, hold on tight.
I finally got my orders.
I’ll be marching through the morning,
Marching through the night,
Moving cross the borders
Of My Secret Life.
leonard cohen
I’m very happy for you. Do it some more!
(And I’m glad it wasn’t just me with the other crossing-the-streams connotations. I thought it was because I’ve never seen Ghostbusters. Or because I have a filthy mind, maybe.)
So happy coming out is going well for you! I think it’ll be good for you all around. I’m excited on your behalf. Is that weird?
So dang happy for you. That’s all I have to say!
Rock on!
Awesome! Glad to have you back! 🙂
Im so friggen excited about all this new found UN anne-nemity so-to-speak. But somehow I feel like im on the outside of an inside joke… how did i miss this decision? Nevermind. When, where, and how you decided is not important. What IS important however- is that the people who know you on That side of the screen, finally get a peek at the totally awesome rock star we know on This side. THAT is fanfrickentastic. With a side of giraffeicorn babies :p
Im so excited for you!
I am sanguine, jaundiced, sarcastic, British, old. There is no reason whatsoever why I should have to blink a lot thinking about you reading your sister’s email to you. And smile. None whatsover.
Mmmmmmm…. acceptance from the people that matter!
A younger bon would say “but of course, and why-ever NOT, you are the bomb-dot-com!?”
Today I say “Halle-freakin’-luia!”
A little sad about the life experiences that caused the difference between then and now, but delighted for YOU!
..and yeah, your husband. I picture him shirtless in your kitchen saying that. I probably shouldn’t, but woooo!
Huzzah!!