If you saw me in the street these past two weeks, you would never have guessed that I had just been reliving that whole father situation over here. Because, while it was emotional to write, I felt so relieved about getting it all out there. So, thanks for reading and commenting and emailing and supporting me even though I veered off the humorous observation path. I appreciate that I have this world of strangers encouraging me. Even if there are only five of you.
The ironic part is that all this dad stuff emerged because of my stand-up comedy class. I am trying to learn how to be funnier (which is funny in itself), and the openness I’m learning there moved me to write about dead dads for two whole weeks! Hilarious. In an aside here, I’d like to tell America that this is irony. Taking a comedy class that makes you more depressing is ironic. T-shirts, however, are not ironic. Stop using that word wrong. A T-shirt is only ironic if you sell your hair to buy one for your husband who has sold his torso to buy you a comb for your hair.
But something amazing happened as I left those dad articles up for a week each. They were like statements nailed to my door if I had a door and lived back in the day when people nailed stuff to doors. All of a sudden, everybody knew. And that felt fucking awesome. Because for my whole life I’ve been shoving this stuff deep inside me. I felt it was something I shouldn’t talk about, something that made me abnormal and scarred and not good enough. I didn’t come from a perfect family and my dad story was a big black stain on my memory. My therapist (what, are you surprised?) told me not to talk about such private history until date six. And usually when I did, there’d be a blank look and an oh-I-feel-so-bad-for-you conversation.
Barf. It’s just life. Gimme a break.
But now it’s out there! And all five of you know about it. And it’s no secret. And telling everybody is so freeing. I’m on the offense instead of the defense. Now it feels more ‘this is me, so suck it’ rather than ‘oh, well, I guess I should tell you this because it’s time for us to be closer. Hope you still accept me.’
So, my point is: Let’s tell our secrets. Let’s make secrets obsolete. I fucking hate secrets. I am so racist against secrets, it’s disgusting. I want to throw all secrets into a gas chamber. I’ve always loved Post Secret, and now I finally understand why all those crazy people send in their secrets. Because it feels fucking good. To let it out and let it go.
So, you know, feel free to share some secrets here. Or not. You can always email them to me (salasala@gmail.com), and I will write about them.
In turn, I will tell you a secret. Another one. A less depressing one. Ready? Here goes:
I religiously read ‘Missed Connections’ on Craigslist. I do! I’m embarrassed each time I click on the link, but just what if? What if the guy I’m sitting next to at this here coffee shop with the scarf on is really not gay but European and happens to have made eye contact with me purposely instead of just because his friend was standing behind me? And maybe he would have totally asked for my number but looked at the clock and realized he was late to pick his grandmother up for their weekly tea. Oh, and I guess my other secret is that I am a hopeless romantic and am positive my movie ending will happen (much like it did in my friend’s book, which you should most definitely read. Uh, I spent Fourth of July in bed reading. Another secret: I’m lame.).
Wait, maybe this is a depressing secret. Sigh.
At least it’s all out there. I’m so in control now. I feel like a little bird.
Now… let’s have some fun in this bitch.
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Luckily for romantic you, I have purchased this boombox and a cassette copy of a Peter Gabriel song.
Unfortunately, It's "Sledgehammer".
I have a secret. I took an AP Biology class once because the hottest girl in school took it too. I got a C. Then I was banished by my Indian parents to hell.
Hell being the non TV room.
Little birds are in control? Who knew!?
BTW, I read your blog and am commenting on it from my friend's iPad.
Totally agree re: irony. I blame Alanis.
Here's a secret: I don't wear deodorant and I don't use soap in the shower. Is that really gross?
What happened to my comment? Let the record show I was first.
Lucky for romantic you, I have purchased a boombox and a Peter Gabriel cassette tape and will be outside your window at some point.
Unfortunately the song is "Sledgehammer".
I have a secret. I took an AP History class in high school and my parents were proud of me for pushing myself. The downside? I only took it because I had a major crush on one of the girls in the class. I got a C. I was then banished.
I have nightmares. FLASHBACKS.
girl telling your dad stuff made you more than a little bird. it made you a free bird. so from this free bird to your free bird i would like to say congrats. as weird as that sounds.
and i agree – secrets can suck it.
here's a whopper i recently let out: my former bf of 8 years (who everyone knew, loved, etc.) upon graduating from years and years and years of education proceeded to get the job of his dreams and when they asked about his significant other in the interview: well he said he didn't have one.
and then he proceeded to act like he barely knew me at corporate events when colleagues came around.
and he never told anyone. no one. not one single person – in the new circle – about me; or in our old circle – that he abandoned me.
so i told the old circle. all of it.
secret 2: i'm starting to think i'm never going to recover from this. it is a lie that time heals all wounds.
yes! I love the secrets. Keep them coming.
@Jimmy: Yes, little birds have tons of control. They can fit everywhere and then fly away.
@Catalina: yes. you are disgusting. not really. I have smelled you and it's not that bad.
@Rahul AP 'C's are actually 'B's, right? So it worked out. I love your romantic side too. If only we were both single and lived in LA. Oh. Forget it.
@Free Bird. You are free! It sounds like you dated a douche for 8 years, so let's celebrate not being tied to him anymore. I'm sorry it hurts, but time really DOES heal all wounds. As does sex, shopping, and trips alone to other countries.
I have a small crush on someone unattainable. But it's not so secret, even his wife thinks it's ok
@thisfreebird – you'll recover when you start liking someone else. Unfortunately it seems like a vicious cycle – get heartbroken, recover when you really start liking someone new and then that probably won't work out so you're back at stage 1. My experience is limited though so maybe it isn't always like that.
I guess that is a good segue to secret #1: I almost made it to 30 w/o being hurt/heartbroken/whatever, but that's how 2009 ended.
#2 – I only started thinking I wasn't ugly at the end of 2009/beginning of 2010. I think it's a combination of some women I met plus turning 30. 30 is awesome for the most part I must say.
#3 – I have an idealistic/daydreamer/hopeless romantic side and an extremely realistic side. They like to argue a lot.
Oh and a couple more, but maybe they aren't that secret
#4 – I like big butts and I cannot lie
#5 – Give me a sista, I can't resist her
The word verification for this post is "exually." Pretty sure they forgot an "S"
What was it Will Rogers said? "If it don't hurt, it ain't funny!"
yes! more secrets.
@nursemyra – I feel a threesome is in order.
@Jimmy
you are gorgeous and I can't believe you have not seen that until now.
Both inside and out.
Filakia
There are more than five comments on this post. I don't understand. I thought you said only five people were reading. I feel deceived.
Is that your secret? That you SECRETLY have lots of readers?
Because that's not a very good secret. I could have told you that.
Its not much of a secret since I blabbed about it on my blog.. but I am TERRIFIED of Grandpa Munster.
Have you ever tried stand-up or are you just taking the class to become more free? Need to know!
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