Years ago, when I was in college and long before I met Keith, I started writing a book of short stories / experiences about my life. I've been thinking about starting that up again. I'd basically have to start from scratch because I have NO idea where it is. I'm sure, stored away in an anciently old computer, you know the kind with the boxy monitors? Hey, it was like 2003. Ha ha. That sounds funny because that wasn't that long ago, yet it seems like forever when you think of how much technology has changed. Anyhow, so I've been thinking about writing again. I don't know that I want to write anything to publish, not yet at least. I don't consider myself a writer and with Keith working so hard to make this happen, I mean this is his dream! And he's good, I mean really good. I don't want him to feel like I'm trying to compete with that. I'm not trying to compete. My writing are stories, nay mere silliness really. Nothing compared to the layering creativity that he's producing. However, I keep thinking about it. So maybe it's worth putting out there. I thought, since I'm blogging again, maybe I will occasionally post a chapter on here, as a way to start bringing it back from the dead.
The title of my book is Don't Tell Anyone, Not Even Air. This probably seems strange and a little ridiculous but when I think of that, it makes me laugh so hard and brings to mind so many memories of my early adult years. First though, we need to start back when I was an awkward 12 year old girl. I really need to get some old photos of me scanned onto my laptop so I can post some of them on here. Hilarious. Gotta love the 80's. I guess by then it was the early 90's but still, awkward is as awkward looks. Puberty wasn't kind to me. When I turned 12 I received my first journal. It was your typical red, hard covered book with medium sized spaced lines inside and gold embossing on the front that said Journal. Nothing fancy but I loved it. I was so excited to receive this special gift from one of my church leaders. This was going to be epic. A place where I could spill the deepest, darkest, most intimate and private details of my life. Because at that point, life was pretty titillating. Utah suburban life in the early 90's...that's down right scandalous. So, in order to protect myself and my journal from prying eyes, I enlisted a few rules, which I immediately wrote in the front cover of my journal. I don't remember each rule in detail. They were pretty ridiculous. Rules like, "If you find this, don't read it". "If you do read this, immediately forget what you read." and the kicker...."If you read this....Don't tell anyone, not even air." LOL! I'm dying just typing this. How freaking ridiculous does this sound and yet I was so dead serious about it. I still have this journal, somewhere in my bedroom. I should probably find it to get those rules exactly (watch for that in the finished manuscript). What a gem to have from my childhood. Well the story doesn't stop there.
In the early 2000's I lived in Salt Lake City, on 9th East and roughly 9th South. I lived with some pretty hilarious girls and we were wild and crazy and did strange but fun things like throw Zoolander parties and make up dances to Brittney Spears' songs, such as hit me "Baby One More Time". One very late night, while avoiding an ever mounting pile of homework, I found said blessed journal and immediately had to show my roommates. We were all about the giggles and this was just too darn funny not to share. Well, to my glorious surprise, one of my roommates made me a t-shirt for Christmas that said "Don't Tell Anyone, Not Even Air". I was so excited. At the time my friends were particularly into making t-shirts with funny quotes on them, mostly from movies or lyrics from songs. They were usually brightly colored shirts with white fuzzy lettering that puffed up off the shirt a bit. I loved this shirt. I used to wear it all the time. I am not even sure what happened to it. I probably threw it away during one of my cleaning frenzies to make room for more important things in my closet or figured I'd never be tiny enough again to fit into it so why bother holding onto it. I'll have to find the shirt, if not, I know I have a picture of it somewhere. Because...you see the story continues from there.
After I finished college, I moved to CT for awhile. I needed to get away from the stresses of school and work. In the beginning I was only going to be out there for the summer. I ended up staying for a couple years, but that's another story, another chapter...or 3. Well while I was in CT, my 2 sisters and brother-in-law came out to visit me during that first summer. While they were there we went to NYC. I love NYC. Such a fun place. One day while we were walking around Manhattan, my younger sister and I passed another forgettable someone, who turned out to be not so unforgettable. For anyone that's spent time in a large city, or even in Salt Lake for that matter (City Creek Freaks as I've heard the phrase coined), there's a fair amount of crazies around. People are just weird and funny and weird. HA! So here we are, walking down the street, just looking around and weaving in and out of people, where out of the blue some guy yells at the top of his lungs...."DON'T TELL ANYONE NOT EVEN AIR". He gave us a toothy smile (I'm pretty sure he was missing some) and a freaky little cackle all while walking right past us. We busted up laughing, it was so funny! And when I think all of this came about because of some silly rule I put in my very first journal I can't help but smile. It only seems fitting to be the title of my book and so there you have it. Maybe this silly little phrase will make it's way into the world once again and hopefully bring a smile to other's faces as it has to mine so many times in the past.