I need a lot of external validation.
This may come as a surprise to you.
I know exactly where this comes from, thanks to thousands of dollars in not-covered-by-insurance therapy. But blaming your dead dad is a cheap shot.
But it's just a fact. I know when I do good work, and I know when I've produced something I really like. But I also know that when it's something creative, like textiles or writing...I need the opinion of others. Preferably the positive opinion, although I prefer honesty over blind positivity.
Ever since my friend Sam told me that LG stopped being entertaining when I got married, I've periodically wondered whether I should keep writing here, or if I'm just boring the crap out of people.
I feel like weird, funny things used to happen to me all the time. And then I stopped going on Internet dates.
I still work in a crazy factory of sorts. But you know, the boss whose office I wanted to put the bugs in left a long time ago, and for a while things have been pretty normal there as well.
So I wondered if it's that odd things no longer happen to me? Or is it that I'm so occupied with work/kid/life that I don't notice?
And while I don't blog for praise or for the good of humanity, I do like the interactive aspect of it. I'm deliberately writing in public, right?
If I think I'm boring you, I'm going to beat myself up over it. Which is why, periodically, I also get all dramatic, back of hand to forehead, swoon on the divan, I should just give up right now! I have nothing further to say!
And then I'll realize I have a story I want to tell. Or I'll see my mom's neighbor, Martha, who I adore, who tells me that she loves LG. Doesn't just like it, loves it.
Or I'll hear someone call my name in Target, and turn to see an attractive blonde woman wheeling a baby in a cart towards me, saying, "I just want to tell you I love your blog! You said you like it when you meet people who read, and I saw you a couple aisles away and I've been stalking you!"
So I beamed and thanked her and said hi to her baby, and I refrained from spontaneously hugging her. I really have to pat myself on the back; I've seriously reduced my hugging of unsuspecting strangers.
Let me clarify that. I don't sneak up to people in the produce aisle and give them furtive hugs. But I do have a penchant for hugging people I barely know.
Boy, did this make my day. And then she walked away and another woman in the aisle turned to me and said, "I bet that really made you feel good!"
I beamed at her as well. (No hugging.) "It did! It really did!"
Happy weekend, all!