My Style

WHAT A RELIEF !!!!!

I was so-o-o happy to find out what I am. Solomon said, "when ignorance is bliss, it is folly to be wise." Bliss was my state until it came to my attention that there are different kinds of bloggers, chatty and newsy. You wonder how anything good can be assigned to a word that ends in -y. If those are the only choices available, even without knowing exactly what they are, I might be best served by getting out while the getting is good. I just started a blog and now I'm being stuffed into a category that has a label that is either chatty or newsy.

My sister and brother-in-law were visiting and we were catching up on what's going on. I advised them that I have joined the world of blogging. Their kids have blogs and they were excited to tell me about them. I read one . . . pretty funny stuff. Then came the question . . . . what are you - chatty or newsy?

Gulp - how do you choose between those two? It's like someone asking if you would prefer to have all the hairs of you head and face plucked out one-by-one, or perhaps have your fingernails pulled out with pliers? (Neither one very attractive, if you ask me . . . . ) So, before I had the courage to get clarification, my mind went off on a gymnastic episode that provided no pleasant visual images. Then I got the labels: Chatty is apparently one who goes on about nothing in particular; newsy is a person who provides information about friends and family. Much like the Christmas letter that catches you up on who did what (only in smaller bites).

Yikes - what if I'm neither? I certainly am not "newsy". I haven't written the first thing about what's going on (except my job). And I would like to think that my rambling musings carry more weight than anything that could be labeled "chatty". But then the ray of hope burst through - the defining shot of relief that would be like being called to the principal's office, thinking you MUST have committed some infraction, sweating-up the fake leather furniture in the waiting area (not like I KNOW what that would be like) but finding out you are not going to jail, but getting some kind of award.

All that time I never knew there was a 3rd option for my writing style. Yes - the 90 seconds of terror that grabbed my heart was obliterated with one word - "cross-over". THAT MUST BE ME !!! Just the right combination of both horrible-sounding words that creates a beautiful tapestry of mind-expanding verbiage to capture the interest of all who dare gaze upon it. This discovery gave me hope to go on (go on blogging, that is). So be warned. Since I now can define myself as a "cross-over", this opens wide a world of blogging possibilities. To quote Forest Gump: "Life is like a box of chocolates . . . . you just never know what you are gonna get." . . . . . and so it goes.

PS - I would have considered myself a writing Andy Rooney. Finding a weird twist in common things and making observations about them. I'm sorry I can't replicate his verbal parallel with written text. Oh well . . .