Reality

Last week I had the privilege of meeting a long time blog reader in person.  I worry that I may have disappointed her.

The person I am in real life is not the same as the person I am online.  I’m just not funny in real life.  I’m amusing, sarcastic, and irreverent, but I’m just not funny.  My husband confirms this for me often when he remarks “You’re so funny when you write.”  I’m okay with this.  I think it would be a lot of pressure to be the “funny” friend.

The wonder of writing is that I can think, edit and then re-think every word I put in print.  Real life isn’t like that.  In real life I tend to be much more rash and brusque.  I get annoyed a lot more easily because I don’t have the luxury of slowing down and really thinking before I formulate a response to things.  My real-life brain goes in strange and seemingly illogical directions which only my closest friends can easily follow.  They are used to the strange turns our conversations take.

I need for life to come with a delete key.  How much wiser and more wonderful could I be if I were able to edit myself?  How much easier would my life be if I could think for as long as I needed before responding to people?  Can you imagine standing in the checkout line at the grocery store and just stopping to think about exactly how to phrase the response to the questions “Are they all yours?  Do you want any more?”  If I could just stop time to think a bit, how much wiser could I appear?

Life doesn’t work that way.  We all have to respond to things as they are thrown at us.  Sometimes we hit upon exactly the right things to say and sometimes we leave people scratching their heads and wondering how this odd person with not much to say writes the things you love to read.

To my sweet blog-reader, you are lovely.  I hope you the reality matched the imagination.  If not, I hope I was better.   We won’t even discuss any other possibilities.