Auto-Blogstalking Revelations: Part Two - On Lunacy

"If you're seeking objective reality," she muttered to herself, "this is one hell of a place to start."

There's a phenomenon that occurs that I believe exists in everyone at all points in time. Now, I cannot be sure of this but, like Herr Doktor Freud, I can only assume that because I have this experience everyone else must as well. I'm not quite the speshul snowflake as I like to imagine myself to be. As for this phenomenon: I'm pretty sure that everyone, barring some sort of masochistic inferiority complex, always considers him/herself to be on at least an even playing field with everyone else both in intellect and maturity. I distinctly remember being 7 years old and wondering if I actually needed to finish elementary school, because my dad and I had many smart conversations and he'd finished college and stuff.

Even looking back into my own memory, I find what I feel to be an even level of maturity and level-headedness, of intelligence and logic. However, from the loftiness of my hot-pink pedestal, reality can become a bit blurred. It took a good dash of stalking myself via my old blog (ask me for the link, if you dare), to realize that High School Cathi was bat-shit crazy.

Because I view everything down my pointy nose and have the clever ability to conveniently forget the less flattering aspects of my life and personality, I can't provide you with a coherent reasonfor much of the cold hard lunacy contained in Old-Blog. All I can tell you is that it made sense at the time.

But honestly, why didn't anyone kick me in the shins, slap me upside the head, and make me watch "Hotel Rwanda" for some perspective? I think between the ages of 14 and 18 I succumbed to, well, being a teenager. I was narcissistic (my biggest worry a week after 9/11/2001 was boys), impressionable (my gay friend convinced me I, too, was gay), dramatic (I broke up with my boyfriend in a tearful, "It's not you it's me I'm probably a lesbian" confession, outside, in 30 degree weather with no coat), attention-whorish (I lied on my blog. A lot. I think the only person I was actually honest with was my internet buddy JD who couldn't give me bona-fide, "real" attention), and an all-around headcase.

So much for maturity. I suppose the lesson in this somewhat pride-wounding expedition is that a constant stream of self-analysis is somewhat warranted. Also that I'm counting on you, Interested Party, on keeping me grounded. Starting right now I'm going to rely on you for shin-kicking and upside-head-slapping if/when my blogging crosses the line from "silly" to "ludicrous".

"I think I'm a lesbian" indeed. Sigh.
Catherine