I’ve suspected this most of my life. The reason I know this for sure now is that some of the readers of this blog and its predecessor, Damn You, Little Rock, have spoken to members of my family about how they’re not so fond of it.
By not so fond, I mean, you find my writing just short of blasphemous. I think it has something to do with the swearing…possibly the drinking…definitely the irreverence.
I’ve been thinking for some time about what the best way to handle this would be. For the better part of six years, I’ve mostly ignored it. I took my mother’s approach to dinner when she set it before my sister and me as kids, “Eat it or don’t.”
Since I am not the jackass whisperer, I figured, “It’s a blog. Read it or don’t.” And really, if what I write here is of such concern that you have to track down my family to berate them about it, you need something to do with your life. May I suggest some volunteer opportunities?
But they’ve grown weary of trying to explain the loud-mouthed broad to others, so I’ll do my best to break down for you what I gather are the main complaints about me. In the future, if you have something to say, you will be directed to this page.
I swear. I use profanity when I talk and sometimes when I write. If you find this upsetting, I’m not your cup of tea.
I drink alcohol. I don’t hide the booze when company comes over. I speak to people I recognize in the liquor store. If you find this upsetting, I’m not your cup of tea.
I do not subscribe to the same religious teaching that I learned as a child. I’m good with Jesus. I respect and love dearly the people who spent years investing in me. I just don’t believe all of the same things they do. If you find this upsetting, I’m not your cup of tea.
I do not hold the same political beliefs I did in college. I’ve come to see the world differently over time. If that’s upsetting to you, I’m not your cup of tea.
I do not “graciously submit” to my husband. We’re a team. Nobody in this family is any more important than anyone else. I genuinely respect him, but he doesn’t get to be the boss of me. No one does. If that’s upsetting to you, I’m not your cup of tea.
I’m irreverent. I make jokes about things that some people think are off-limits. I’m a boundary pusher. If that’s upsetting to you, I’m not your cup of tea.
About not being your cup of tea: I don’t have to be. I suspect you already have many flavors to choose from. There’s a whole universe of people, many of whom are selling exactly what you’d enjoy. I’m just not in that business.
There will be no hard feelings between you and me if you’ll just let this be at that. However, there’s no reason, ever, to speak to my family about how I’m rearing my child, my use of language or my political positions. They are not the boss of me either.
Seriously, if you are actually spending time talking about this blog, think about the volunteer work. No, really.
Now, that’s all settled. May I offer you a beverage? Perhaps some tea?