Swinging. Boogers. Toilets. Sex.

I have been writing my whole life. Practically. I was first “published” when I was seven years old, in my elementary school’s creative writing collection. For the record, NOT every child in school was published, there was, indeed, a selection process, of some sort. The publication wasn’t too fancy, several pages, mimeographed (that probably dates me), stapled together and sent home to all the parents to enjoy. I’m hoping Mom hasn’t shredded it along with all the family photos and important letters in her last spree. The piece I wrote was on being Amish. I’m not, but at that point in my life, I thought it would be really cool because you could have lanterns and candles instead of boring old electric lights and you’d have to have horse drawn carts instead of boring old cars. In high school, again, I had two short stories published in the school’s creative writing journal. One was about not liking peas. I can’t remember the other, but I think it was even better than the “peas” one. Who knows? It, too, probably got shredded. I’m beginning to think Mom’s shredding is a subtle statement she is trying to make about my desire to be a writer.

I also love to write letters and was an avid pen pal for many years with dozens of pen pals from all over the globe. This hobby I continued for a decade, or more, until all of my pen pals ended up on Facebook and we already knew each other’s news and saw each other’s pictures before the snail mail even got posted.

I did write a novel once, about ten years ago. It was a “romance” type story, with an element of suspense. About four hundred fifty pages worth. I based part of it on some plausible but not yet developed technologies. Before working up the nerve to do the final edits and submit it to anyone who might be interested, the technology came to fruition and is actually, now, very common, sort of making the story ordinary. It needs a serious revision. So, in the meantime, I’ve lost the computer “the book” was on, or, at least the hard-drive. And the password to open it. It was a masterpiece, however, I assure you.

Blogging. I never imagined myself enjoying blogging nearly as much as I do. I didn’t think the shorter, less formal form was really my style. I was wrong, I find it liberating! I can use slang, and cuss, and employ all the quirky little run-ons and conjunction overuse I so enjoy in speech. I can write like I speak, with emphasis in unusual places, to add interest. I can use as many commas as I like! And exclamation points! I fucking love punctuation! I have a lot of ideas I want to write about, mostly on topics of “importance”; self-esteem, self-confidence, health, nutrition, success, fulfillment, spirituality, fitness, and relationships. I have learned a great deal about myself, about people, about personal growth and life in the past several years and I feel like I have information and methods that may help others overcome their personal struggles. I am passionate about these ideas. I like to add a little humor for levity and to prove that life really shouldn’t be all that serious. We should laugh. We should laugh everyday. We should laugh really hard, everyday. Life is too short to be so damned serious all the time. For these reasons, I will categorize my articles as “Life is Funny” and/or “Life is Serious”. I love it when life is seriously funny! That’s just the best.

The more articles I post, the more I learn about what people seem to enjoy, to prefer. When I write about more serious topics I usually get a few “likes” and maybe a “follow”, but no real “searches”. When I write something shocking I get a whole bunch of “likes” and several “follows”. When I look at the stats, the article that has more searches by keyword than any other ever I’ve written, is an article titled “Upside Down Pineapple”, which explores rumors revolving around swingers.  The longest comment I ever received was in response to an article on going commando. The most likes and follows I’ve had in response to any article, recently, were after I posted the one about boogers and toilets. It’s like we’re all a bunch of grade schoolers, laughing and snickering at dirty stories and potty talk. But, hey, whatever works.

I used to read posts on a blog called “Girl With a One Track Mind“. She wrote about her experiences with rather indiscriminate sex. She wrote fairly well and her content was quite interesting, but she got busy with other stuff and pretty much stopped posting to her blog. She was shocking, usually, but highly entertaining. I also follow certain YouTube channels, Jenna Marbles being one. She is funny and yet, often, has a worthy message. I think it is entirely possible to be funny, a little shocking and still relevant and worthwhile. This is something Scarlett strives for. I love to entertain people, I love to make people laugh, with my unique style of quirky humor and dorkiness. And yet, I really seek to be understood. I have a message, I have learned some very important lessons in life and want to share my experiences that others may benefit. To mix these into a medium is very challenging.

I do have a message I want to get out to the world. I really want to make a difference, in a serious way. And I still want to laugh, and make people laugh, too. There is a balance between silly, shocking and serious, and I feel like I am the epitome of that. I believe that is probably my message to the world above and beyond any other. Be silly, a little shocking, be serious, be everything, not one without the others, not one more than the others. Be seriously silly, be funny and fierce, have fun and be focused. So, what I’ve learned from the feedback and activity on my posts thus far is that I need to write serious shit and include references to sex, drinking, toilets, boogers and swinging in order to attract the largest audience, and to hopefully, make the positive mark on the world I seek to make.

 

 

Museum of Sex, NYC
Museum of Sex, NYC
Museum of Sex, NYC
Museum of Sex, NYC
Museum of Sex, NYC
Museum of Sex, NYC
Museum of Sex, NYC
Museum of Sex, NYC

Scarlett’s Letter June 15, 2013

We’re friends, right? We can talk about anything! Yesterday, I told you about my kooky dreams. Good news? I only had one kooky dream last night. I don’t remember all the particulars, except that I had to take an orange (Target style) shopping cart everywhere I went. Which is weird, because when I shop at Target, or almost anywhere, I usually just use the “hand basket”, rarely a cart, unless I need “paper products (TP or paper towels). Or a television. So I have strange dreams, so I need an analyst, maybe. Whatever.

We can talk about anything. Like sharp boogers. You know what I’m talking about! Those boogers that are so hard they’ve developed sharp corner and edges and they HURT! What do you do about them? Go to the closest, privat-est place and relieve yourself of them like a three-year old would do, dig it out with your index finger with all the vigor you can muster until it is a fete complet! Right?

Okay, how about this? You walk into a large public restroom and you’d like to “sit” for a moment. The restroom is mostly empty, as in there are no lines, no competition for an “open seat”. Which one do you choose? If you could choose any seat to sit upon, which would you choose? I know there have been articles (believe it or not) written on the “most likely to be less used”, but I think this is all based on loosely developed theories and poorly applied statistics. In your logical mind, which would you choose? Stall one, I have to think, is probably used more than any other. I would imagine that the “last” stall would be used the next most, by all those who fear stall one and adhere to extremes. I choose stall three. Why? It isn’t stall one, it isn’t the last stall, and three is my favorite number. So unless there is number one, or worse yet, number two, or worst of all, number three, (the sum of number one and number two) in the commode in stall three, that’s the one I’m choosing. How about you? Or do you just peer into each stall before you select in which you’ll pee?

So, yes, I am traveling today. I am at the airport. I have had two flights (of wine) before my first flight and am now readying for my “last” pit stop before boarding the plane. Just wondered if anyone else, besides me, gave any thought, applied any logic or theory to which stall, if any, are more likely to be cleaner than any other in a public restroom.

Next question; seat covers? Worth it or a waste of natural resources? How long do germs really live on dry surfaces? A topic for another day, perhaps.