So the last time I wrote I said I was embarrassed about things….embarrassed about not knowing how to write a blog and embarrassed about what is in my closet.
But the question is: does it really matter what is in my closet? It is my closet and I can put whatever the hell I want to put in there! I can keep the door shut, if and when you come over…and you won’t even have to look at it.
Well, I think it does matter. I also think if you are going to be one of my closest friends….you should know what is in there too. If I was a weirdo and kept something socially unacceptable in there, like animals or lots of canned goods…you would wonder what was wrong with me.
So for me, it matters what is in your closet. I am not sure that I need to know all of it…but if we are going to be friends…I need to know what you have in your closet. Please go look! I will wait here!
Ok, so this is my first day blogging and I am embarrassed. Embarrassed for so many reasons. First of all for not really knowing how to blog! Second for getting into my closet and seeing what I saw in there! I got in there to give me some ideas of what I wanted to write on this page and to see if I could correlate what the contents of it respresented of me.
So for starters..if any one reads this at all, I would love to have some tips on what good, professional bloggers do to make your posts insteresting. Keep in mind I am not the most computer savvy person and need very specific instructions. Don’t be rude….cuz I am a fast learner. Ha…but this whole new world of blogging, facebook and smart phones makes a bunch of us feel old and prehistoric!
Second, I got into my closet to look around. Since I am on a mission to not only clean it physically, but explore it on an emotional level and see if I can make any sense of it all but when I did, it conjured up child hood memories and thoughts of embarrassing character flaws.
So today I got in my closet that is under my stairs. I had a closet under my stairs in the house I grew up in also. So today’s adventure brought back memories of that child hood closet. I grew up in Oklahoma, where we have tornado season EVERY year. And for those of you that don’t know much about Oklahoma; even though we are known for being Tornado Alley, most of the houses here do NOT have basements. The say it is something about the clay in the soil not being good for basements.
So funny enough, my childhood closet was the tornado shelter, just like my under the stairs closet is now! So when I was a kid, it was full of suitcases and junk that could be easily discarded in case the contents were to be thrown out into the weather for the sake of our 6 family safety zone. Keep in mind this closet was only 6 feet by 5 feet and 4 feet tall. (it was under the stairs for goodness sake) We would cram under there for as long as the tornado warning would last. And because my family never kept up with things much, after a storm, those suitcases would stay strewn around and we kids would take advantage of setting up a fort inside the closet to play in. It was a treat to get into that closet. It was unexplored territory that was ideal for play space.
But I look in my closet that is under my stairs of my current family dwelling and I am embarrassed to see what kinds of crap is in there that I don’t need or even knew was in there. Like snorkeling stuff. I have only been snorkeling one time….and I don’t plan on doing it again for a very long time. Why did I keep that stuff? What does it mean about me? It made me kinda feel like a hoarder. Cuz when I saw it in there, I had NO IDEA what to do with it. To get it out and throw it away seems wasteful, to leave it in there seems silly. So, I just turned off the light and shut the door. Now that is coping!
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