Hello, dear readers of The Art of Over-Thinking (TAoOT). I feel like I've started each post in the last 2 years with something along the lines of: I'm not dead...or...Anyone there? How enthralling! How witty and just? How stupid.
No. Just no.
So, let's just start fresh-like! Here's a quick primer on the updates/the future of this blog and then I'll move onto a funny story because I'm a big winner.
Before I go there, I first want to say a HUGE THANKS to those of you who have returned numerous times to my blog to drop me a sweet comment on newer (ha! MARCH!) and older posts, encouraging me to get my ass back on here. I hope to see you back here again. A lot.
I've really missed blogging. I've never really been a "regular blogger" unless I've jumped on one of those horrid IMUSTBLOGEVERYDAYFORAMONTHORELSEYOUWONTLIKEME things. I did that twice and it ruined any spontaneity I had in me. Also, I like the idea of rules but I hate being told what to do. I'm neat.
So, the long and the short of it is that I've been without an outlet for any story-telling or f-bomb-dropping; this has left me with a major void in the FUN department.
(Is it just me or does "major void in the FUN department" sound like a big ol' innuendo regarding a sexless, cavernous vagina? No? Huh.)
I'm going to do a few things differently around this joint - with the help of C, I've brought the blog to a format that's closer to 2010 than 2001. I now have an active Twitter page and have created a TAoOT Instagram page that I'll be using for a project called #365GramsofInsta. See the links on the side-bar to the left? If you'd follow me, I'd be sarcastically yours for the foreseeable future and will follow you back. Unless you're "Ahmet Jareen" constantly tweeting at me, "Your writing. It is nice and talent. Hard time with penis erection? Click here!"
Another new feature is an occasional link to an audio-clip of me READING a post to you. I've been told that a good deal of the humor behind my story-telling comes from my actual delivery. You'll still have to imagine my hand-gestures and awkwardness. Shouldn't be a huge feat.
To hedge my bets on keeping focus, I've added a daily alarm to my phone to "get busy postin' or get busy dyin'"-- It's important to note that I also have a permanent alarm set to "get busy being dramatic." The latter alarm went off at birth and has been ringing since June of 1977.
Since I last posted, my dear Gram passed away. She was a remarkable woman who really lived each day as if it were her last. Her passing has caused me to reflect a lot on her life, traditions and the insanely funny things that came out of her mouth. Some of these gems were told to me by my mom, but many, I witnessed first-hand. As a kick-off to my return to the online world, I would like to post one of my favorite Gram-Moments. I have a ton of bust-your-gut moments of hers to share here, so maybe I'll even make her a category.
Gram was 97 at the time of this story and gave two shits about decorum or subtlety - a feature that i found hilarious and admirable. I thought she gained this filterless, feisty trait with age, but my mom says she was like that in her 20's, too.
This moment happened was she saw me for the first time after I got a pixie haircut....
I have never had my hair so short. This haircut was SHORT-short with the longest hairs being about 2-3 inches in length.
Gram: Oh! OH! That is SHORT! Why did you do that?
My Mom: (gives Gram an OMG look)
Me: So I take it you don't like it?
My Mom: (utters Oh Shit under her breath)
Me: Do you EVER like my haircuts???
Gram: Well sure! It's just. Well, you remind me of someone. Now, who is it? I just...no, can't remember....
ABOUT FIVE MINUTES GOES BY....
Gram: I KNOW! You look like that gal on TV - that Maddow lesbian!
Me: Oh my GOD -
Gram: (interrupting) - yes! That really smart lesbian! You look like her!!
Gram: Or - oh wait? You know, I think you look more like that Senator from, oh, where was that? She got that cute, short haircut on account of the bullet!
Me: I LOOK LIKE GABBY GIFFORD AFTER SHE HAD BRAIN TRAUMA SURGERY???
Gram: Yes! (makes a snapping noise with her fingers) That's it!
Me and My Mom: ....
Gram: Want to go get an ice cream cone at McDonalds?