Jill asked me to follow "Relative Craziness" with a funny post. She said it would haunt her too... But obviously I've been at a loss for a humorous topic; I haven't written in two days, and I was on a bit of a roll. It's not that I don't want to oblige. Jill has been supportive of my writing for as long as I can remember. I figured it was the least I could do. So, why, after I left her feeling sad can I not think of anything to make fun of about myself, a pet peeve to rant about, a silly memory to share?...Now that I think of it, she asked me to write about my April vacation week with her in San Diego, and here I am about to fly off to Seattle in the middle of my summer vacation, and I haven't done that yet either.
I don't think it's any Jill-specific defiance. As I said, she checks my blog often, compliments often, and tells me to keep writing, much the way I supported her as a musician and vocalist. I would go to her gigs when she was still living in Connecticut (where was American Idol 20 years ago? Hello?!?! She definitely would have won!) and never tired of her beautiful voice and telling her she was just great, she nailed the Aretha tune, she brought tears to my eyes.
There may, however, be a touch of Psych 101 defiance that lingers in these occasionally achy bones, some rebelliousness that does what I'm told not to, and procrastinates when I should just get it done. I'm thinking the writing was on the wall when in sixth grade I coordinated a walk-out to demonstrate our dissatisfaction with what we saw as unfair discipline. (If we were noisy in the cafeteria during lunch, the lunch ladies would rat us out to the gym teacher, who worked us to the max--with cockroaches and other military calisthenics. When someone passed out and he couldn't do that anymore, he made us sit on the gym floor, completely silent and unmoving. Hence the walk out.)
Either that or maybe I have simply been enjoying myself by the pool, where I refuse to bring my laptop, catching up on reading novels, making friends with other pool regulars, relaxing and refueling, waiting for the next idea to take hold.
Eventually I'll think of something funny. Promise.