Bly that.
Nellie Bly has a heart warm as a cup a tea and bigger than the sweet potatoes down in Tennessee!
Gosh I miss Martin Hook.
Buckhorn, Loosestrife, Touch-Me-Not, Bunchberry, Dewberry.
What do these things have in common?
They are all plants that I have spent the whole morning trying to identify based on memory and pictures taken by my cell phone.
You can add Reindeer lichen to that list.
Who thinks I need to get to doing things that are important? Not I said the chicken.
I mean (chuckle) I just spent the last hour making a playlist to listen to when I finally make the long drive from here to Columbia MO.
So It's not like I have been wasting time on something that doesn't need to be ready for two and 1/2 months.
And now with all that out of the way I can delve a little deeper into myself.
This is my exploration of identity.
Here is part of it: A current Facebook Status (in 3 parts)
Sarah Lambson (Status Part 3) He had no idea how frustrating it was to be in the middle of the woods where you can't stream anything because the evil satellite overlord would decrease internet speed by 1/2 every time you went over his strangling limits.
Sarah knew he was right and that was what made it so infuriating.
Sarah Lambson (Status Part 2) "You should care," Dom said with annoying self-assurance. Like HE knew. He was just a brain friend. He didn't know what it was like to move through the invisible corridors of endless entertainment contained within the magical computer monitor.
Sarah Lambson (Status Part 1) "Fast Internet, I will miss you," thought Sarah with a sigh. She knew full well that this thought firmly cemented her position as a fast-internet junkie, but she didn't care.
Isn't is infuriating that you have to start at the bottom and read up, or be just a little confused as you read it all backwards?
Who is Dom? Wouldn't you like to know? I bet you would. He is my secret weapon and he does not exist. Imaginary friend? Try imaginary ally. You wish you had a Dom on your side don't you?
In the meantime, I cannot get Blogger to stop indenting the text. Probably not a big deal.
There are other things to discover. Like how I now talk to much with people In know well. I go on and on. They say they don't mind and I only half believe them because the things I talk about are so trivial.
But allow me to let you in on a little insight that me and a dear sister of mine realized. I think it's the best friends that you can talk to about nothing and have it cement your relationship further. You've gotten to a special stage when you can start having conversations beyond the normal trivial topics. You've moved on to a deeper kinship when you start confiding in each other the precious details of your first love and the loss that accompanied it. It's even better when you can have conversations about theoretical situations (like living in Antarctica for example) and come up with the solid belief that if you plug a toaster into a polar bear it would work eventually. It's more fun when you can talk to a sister for hours about anything and everything because you literally have no limit to your conversation material. You could go on and on if only sleep didn't get in the way.
And that is when you know that you are truly friends.
NOTE: These random conversations cannot be one sided. It can't be you talking about how Romeo and Juliet is a tragedy and not a romance and how it professes the foolishness of lust at first sight, and not the truth of love at first sight. If the other person is not engaged in what you are saying then you are just talking to yourself and you can do that any old time and spare your audience the boredom.
But then that's what I'm doing here, right? Updating about trivial events in my life. I know some of you want to know these things because I am so far away. And that's why I put them here. But really, this blog is about those things that help me become me. And one of those things happened this weekend.
Will I say more? Perhaps, when I know that you, the reader, whoever you are, is someone with whom I know I can share those little intimate details of my life. Until then, some things must remain private and not carelessly scattered into the dark emptiness of the internet for some stranger to pick up and examine.
Speaking of self discovery, why did I just look at that picture? Why did I find myself becoming a little (just a tad, mind you) stalker-ish and look up that person and then flick to that picture and wonder just why in the heck that couldn't have been me at some time? What was wrong with me?
Sorry. I had one of those moments I just said I didn't want to have. I plucked a personal thought out of my brain and I am casting it out. I think some part of me believes that doing so helps to rid myself of undesirable pieces of myself. I don't think I am fully wrong in thinking this.
This is sort of a long post, but then, if you are still reading it means that in some way or another you are engaged. It's that or you feel obligated because you are family. The third choice is that you keep reading in hopes that you will receive some reward at the end. Something to make this entry worth reading. Like a cookie. Or some chocolate. Sorry to disappoint, but I could really go for some chocolate too. That doesn't mean that I am going to get it.
I mean what are these blogs for? Self validation? Popularity? Recognition? Perhaps all of the above and I cannot deny that this blog first came into being nearly 4 years ago partly for those three reasons. Let's be honest. How well can you explore the true raw identity of yourself in front of random internet readers? (Did you know that my "Cubed" entry is the most read entry out of all the entries on this blog?) And this is how I thought about renaming this blog.
Am I really exploring my identity? No. Where did that title come from? It was an attempt to sound philosophical and interesting. Zen garden? I don't have a Zen garden. I don't really ever want one. I don't go for that kind of thing. So what does that mean to me?
So I thought of other titles. Like: A blog for people who care about the thoughts of Sarah Lambson( at least the ones she is willing to put out in public). That one was too long. I considered simply Sarah Bethany Lambson. Just my name. But then what does that say about what I put here? Readers would have no idea to expect from just the title (but then again, you shouldn't judge a blog by it's title, just like books and covers and all that).
What about: Sarah Lambson: Life Updates and On the Surface Thoughts.
Or:The gradual morphing of the mind of Sarah Lambson.
Then I remembered...
I can determine what I put here and it can still be an exploration of identity. And don't all those trivial everyday events make me who I am? Don't they in part define my identity? Sure they do. And for that reason alone, this blog will always remain an important part of the discovery of who I am because part of who I am is a person who still feels the need to publicly publish her thoughts and ideas and emotions and happenings. Maybe someday I won't need this anymore. Maybe.
But then don't I still post here partially because I want to log into my account, click on this blog (out of my 3) on my dashboard and see the little blue number that means I have a comment? Don't I wait with held breath to see who it is that has decided to leave their own take on the events of my life and the workings of my mind? Don't I check constantly, hoping for a blue number over 1 or 2? I do. And why? Because no matter how much I tell myself differently, the reason I will keep posting here for years to come it because I need proof that I exist on this unfathomable expanse called the internet. I need to know that others acknowledge my existence here.
Because if a blog is created on the internet and nobody reads it, does it really exist?
1 comment:
I read but I rarely have anything "clever" to say. I thought your alternate names were clever - well, Sarah Bethany Lambson was not that much. But the two after that.....
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