sometimes I write about you

You know how there are those movies like Never Been Kissed and How To Lose a Guy in 10 Days? And how the women are writers and start their adventure in order to have a good story to get published, but then they end up falling in love and the guys find out it was all for a story and can't forgive the woman for using him? I'm not like that.

I would not do anything for a blog story, because I'm not that desperate. Mostly if I don't have anything interesting to say, I lie and make something up. If you have a boring life then it is very important to have a good imagination. Not that I'm saying I have a boring life. I don't. Yesterday I was at Winco and saw two teenage boys get into a fistfight in the parking lot. I broke it up not because I have really big muscles, but because I realized one of them was a kid I taught to read, and I expected more from him.

I think it could be exciting if someone discovered this blog and then didn't trust me because they thought I was using them for material. Because you know what I would do? Write about how that person thinks I'm using them. And then they would probably read my blog every day to see how I trash talked them, and they would forward it to their friends, and wouldn't you know? I'd have forty more readers. Jajaja. Kidding. There are only four people who read my blog, and one of them is my mother. I don't mind. Because you know what I can do? Write things like "I really wish I could get a GPS for my birthday so I would stop getting lost." And then my mom might read it and think "I know exactly what to buy for Joelle next month." Then when I open my present I can act all surprised and say "How did you know?!" Likely she not reply "I read your blog," but rather "I was tired of you calling me every time you got lost in a one-way grid."

Blogs can be used for nefarious purposes, such as passive-aggressive messages and cryptic criticisms. For example, if I wrote "There is a certain person in a particular town who keeps twisting circumstances to fit his/her needs and it is really annoying. I wish they'd wake up from denial," you might think that I was targeting you. At which point I would suggest that you examine your life and figure out what twisted circumstances I am referring to.

And wouldn't you know? You've just e-mailed this to three people asking them if they think I really was referring to you. I will neither confirm nor deny anything. It is probably true that a gossip centered blog would get a lot of readers, but I do not like to say true or untrue things about anybody, unless it's about myself. For example, did you know that I am actually a really talented parkour athlete? Only I never tell anybody about it because parkour is so dumb and does nothing to help society? Yes, sometimes gossiping about yourself and revealing your own secrets to an audience is necessary when TMZ could care less if you suddenly gained ten pounds and are spotted at the pool wearing an ill-fitting swimsuit.

I think that when I tell people I like writing and I like spy type stuff and detective work, they get worried that I might start hiding in a bush in their backyard with binoculars, peering into their lives, ready to report. But that simply is not true. One time, in some year prior to 2011, I was actually accused of espionage. I am not even making that up in order to sound more interesting. It really did happen. It had terrible emotional repercussions, and is one of the stories I prefer to tell in person and not in writing. But now I think it's fun to casually mention I was once accused of being a spy, because doesn't a story like that peak your interest? You are probably wondering what I did to deserve such suspicion.

The fact is, I may very rarely refer cryptically to others in this blog. Chances are, if you think I am referencing you, I'm not. Instead, I've probably mentioned you many times when you had absolutely no idea that it was you. That's why Detective School is useful; it helps you decode these things.

But what detective school does not teach you is to not bother yourself with reading blogs looking for coded mention of your person. Because chances are, the content is not worth your trouble. Unless of course, the writer is trying to cryptically let you know that she loves you. In those instances, it is always best to assume she is referring to you.

I Write Love Letters

Hannah Katy from As Simple As That is brilliant. I love this girl. She is a stranger to my face, but not to my heart. She seems to write everything that I am feeling.

On 10/10/10 she wrote a post called "Sara Bareilles would not write you a love song but I want to write you a love letter." She describes how she writes random “love notes” to strangers and leaves them in places all around New York City. On buses, in bathrooms, on park benches. She leaves encouraging little notes for strangers to find.

I love this idea. It sort of reminds me of my teenage self, when I used to sneak secret anonymous love messages into the lockers of the boys I liked, but of who didn’t know I was breathing the same air. And then I would get to watch their faces the next day. Then senior year the school installed cameras in every hallway, making it near impossible to sneak a letter through the vent cracks without having it being recorded on video tape. But don’t you worry, I pulled it off. I'm stealth.

Several times I left letters in the public library. There was this drawer underneath one of the tables near the magazine collection, and I fully wrote a note and stuck it in there. No reply, though.

My favorite thing ever is to write secret messages and leave them places. It’s excellent when they are love messages, and it is more excellent when you get to see the person’s reaction, but not all the time is it possible to see their response. My messages are always anonymous. They don’t need to know who I am. It’s better if they don’t.

Anyway, Hannah inspired me to revisit this old pastime, and I sent off my first stranger love letter this past weekend. I wrote down some encouraging words, sealed it in an envelope, and carried it around with me while I ran errands. I ended up leaving it in the library, because that’s my favorite place. Next time I’ll leave it elsewhere. I had the envelope in my hand in the parkade, ready to put it on someone’s windshield, but I didn’t. Something didn’t feel right. Once I got inside the library, I decided to leave it in a book. But not just any book, a book that I knew would be read soon. And no, it wasn’t a copy of Twilight or whatever. I went to the hold shelf and snuck it in someone’s book. So now they’ll get a little surprise when they sit down to read it next week.

Secret messages are the best.