“Writing is easy… 3


writing is easy terrible poker face gene fowler

Thanks, Gene. Couldn’t have said it better myself. For a solid decade I’ve had friends ask me to start a blog. And for a solid decade my external response has been some hybrid of genuine and faux self-deprecation, while my internal response has been “Are you kidding me? If people knew what was going on in my head half of the time they would have me institutionalized.”

Enter: anonymity.

Also enter: turning 30 and deciding that I DGAF if it flops because now that I’m a grown up, I can handle that. Though someone once told me that if you still refer to people as “grown ups,” you probably aren’t one, so take that for what you will.

Here’s what you need to know about me in no particular order.

1. I work at a school. Kids really do say the darnedest things. And by darnedest, I mean I teach 6th-12th graders, so it’s usually more rude or hormone-fueled than cute. For example, when I told my favorite 9th grader that I was turning 30, she replied by asking me, “So do you spend a lot of time worrying if you’re going to die alone?” She’s a doll.

2. To that point, yes; I do. There’s been some solid moments in the last few years as the vast majority of my friends have coupled off that I’ve thought, “I guess I should start research on hypoallergenic cats…” but like all good party girls, instead of pulling the covers over my head, I would just go make out with some musician/investment banker/firefighter to bide my time. How does the old cliche go? If you can’t be with “Mr. Right,” then enjoy your time with “Mr. Right Now“?

3. There is someone special right now though… but I don’t want to jinx it. More on that later.

4. I’m an extremely unsuccessful vegan. Like I want to be a vegan and I will go weeks at a time being really good about it. Then someone will suggest Mexican food and if ever there are fajitas and queso in front of me, and I don’t have some, I need you to check my pulse.

5. Part of the English teacher curse is that I’m a purist and an admitted snob about books being made into movies. The casting director and set designers of my mind are flawless, and Hollywood has yet to keep up. That being said, I took my kids (students) to see Mockingjay on opening day, and I both cried and cheered and did the salute. P.S. Even though I know the ending, I’ll be #teamgale until the day I die.

6. By Texas standards, I’m a bra-burning-tree-hugging-deodorant-be-damned hippie because I believe in these crazy liberal ideals like “human rights” and stuff. This is by no means a political blog, but I’m a political person, so I will inevitably piss someone off. Sorry. Sort of.

7. When I was in 8th grade, this boy in my English class told me that he felt like he had experienced the entirety of Where the Red Fern Grows just by watching me read it. “You have a terrible poker face,” he said, “but like in a good way.”

It bums me out a little bit to be summed up in 7 points, but that’ll do for now.

Happy Sunday, y’all.


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