My Fictional Life & The Televised Influences

It's hard to write a semi-anonymous blog when controversial events take place in one's life. Why, for example, did I reveal my identity to certain people when it would cause me to lose a definite amount of imagined freedom? It's sort of like Anaiis Nin knowing, in her gut, that people would read her journal. I think she may have known it well, since she wrote about showing it to certain acquaintances, 'if my memory serves me correctly.' Back to my thesis statement: It is a challenge to be one's self when those people who actually know the outer image are looking in, and there is a particular awareness for the author. Me, that is, being self-conscious as I write.

My remedy for this conundrum of identity is so simple it's laughable. From here-on-in, this is pure fiction. Got it? I'm making this shit up, I have no family, no friends, no ideas to speak of. Any similarities between what you read here and real characters that you may know are pure coincidence. Phew.

Ya know why they talk about marriages being 'on the rocks?' It's because often alcohol is involved. My case is no exception. In my general Appeal to the Universe, when I am making it, as one does at moments of shittiness, I ask, how did my life become so utterly predictable? When did I become a lady with a rough marriage? I feel like a character on MacMillan & Wife. Of course, Rock Hudson could have one drink and stop. And they never had close family members die. In those days, main characters were never killed off. But they had dear friends who might suddenly pop up on a new episode, kind of like Maude on All in The Family. Rock and Susan Saint James would kindly condescend to their old pals and chat about them after they left. What had gone wrong? Estelle was acting strange, and never spoke to Buck. Well, Estelle may have wanted him to stop imbibing or maybe he had actually stopped but was now so unpleasant without the alcohol that she wished he'd have more.

Is there a particular diagnosis for a person who continually refers to old television episodes to reference her life? It is a bit twisted, I know, but television was an integral part of my entree (is that a main course or an entry point?) to our culture. Susan Saint James really had it good - so her husband was gay? She still got to solve crimes, look slick all the time, and she always had a happy chuckle ready to pop out.

Whew! That was lotsa fun to make up. This fiction thing is going well. A fictional character referring to actual television characters - I am feeling more optimistic about my fictional life already!