For my birthday, which is Thursday, and I'm not telling you how old I am, but with a little digging in my blog you could very easily find out if you cared enough, I am going to mail a card to my birth mother. It's not going to be something long and drawn out. It won't be a tear jerker like my previous letters. Nope. Instead, it will be something short and sweet and to the point. It will more resemble an invitation than anything else. It's time.
You should have seen me at Harris Teeter last night trying to find an appropriate card. It was like watching nursing home residents in their wheelchairs argue about who jumped who in line at 4:30 when the white clothed people ring the cowbell. Some of them hit with their canes, others with their stuffed animals. Either way, it's pretty freaking funny. As you can imagine, there wasn't much to choose from. Had it been cheese that I was looking for, I would have had a much rougher time deciding. There's this nifty, but not thrifty, gift shop here in Charlotte, that has an incredible array of paper products and fun gift ideas that would have sufficiently done the job (thanks Paper Skyscraper for not being in Mint Hill), but as it were, I was there, in Mint Hill, where I loathingly reside, and as I tell people routinely, Mint Hill just doesn't have much to choose from (in anything, men included). There were two cards that I had to choose from. Both were tinging on the side of cheesy and both were altogether pretty lame. One of them made mention of faith, courage, and strength- three of my favorite attributes in people and aliens. The other, had the words inside, "you are thought of more often than you think." I was leaning towards that one, but it had a picture of a cheesy telephone drawn on it, and it looked like something you could pick up at the stab-n-grab on the way to the beach. I decided against it. I got the semi-cheesy one that mentioned courage. I liked what it said. And I had no choice. I would probably go to Paper Skyscraper this afternoon had I not taken the bus today. Taking the bus is economical, but not practical when you are a single mom. Oh well. I refuse to let my lack of a proper card hold me back from finally sending the card. In fact, I think I will just go straight to Walgreens when I get to my car and buy a new card there since they might have a better selection. I'm going to look really silly and really chintzy returning a Hallmark card to Harris Teeter. Who cares? I'm sure I've looked much worse. Just ask anyone I know. I've toppled the charts on looking stupid. I am a hall of famer.
So this is what my note will say verbatim:
For my birthday this year, I wanted to give something precious away, and since I already lost my virginity, I thought I would invite you to join in my life. I think we've been separated long enough. Don't you? I am ready now. I hope you are too. But if you are not, I will hunt you down and kill your family.
OK, no. That's not what it will say verbatim. But it sounded pretty damn funny. Instead I think I will say this:
For my birthday this year, I decided I would send out the best invitation ever to only one person. We have been separated long enough. I'm ready to invite you into my life. I hope you are ready to join. It will only cost you $500/Mo. with no down payment payable in equal installments by the 5th of the month.
OK, no again. But that would be so funny. It will be short and you get the gist. I don't plan on letting her off the hook so easily by telling her that I forgive her for letting me go, even though I'm not mad or hurt. She doesn't need to know everything yet. I also don't plan on telling her about Sarah, but I will include a picture of us together. I think a picture says a thousand words and a few cuss words in the mix in braille if you throw up a bird, which I don't intend on doing. But that would be kinda funny too. I'm beginning to see a pattern here. White couch here I come.
Lastly, and on a more sincere note, I would like to say that I welcome a relationship with my birth mother, and despite having made a mockery of my life and of adoption in general, by writing a blog for my peers and the world to see and gawk at, I truly do care about the outcome. I did this for one main reason- to document my search for other adoptees who are in limbo and in search themselves and feel isolated in that they don't have many peers who can relate to their situation, nor understand, and it has ultimately become a creative outlet for me to express my feelings without cussing someone out, which is never good.
I will post a video of myself dropping the letter in the mailbox at work tomorrow, provided I can get someone to video it. My timing might be off by one day because I don't know how long it will take for the letter to get from Crown Town to J-Vegas, but we shall see. It's been almost 36 years, she can wait one more day. Crap, I ended up telling you anyway. I can't keep a secret to save my life.
You should have seen me at Harris Teeter last night trying to find an appropriate card. It was like watching nursing home residents in their wheelchairs argue about who jumped who in line at 4:30 when the white clothed people ring the cowbell. Some of them hit with their canes, others with their stuffed animals. Either way, it's pretty freaking funny. As you can imagine, there wasn't much to choose from. Had it been cheese that I was looking for, I would have had a much rougher time deciding. There's this nifty, but not thrifty, gift shop here in Charlotte, that has an incredible array of paper products and fun gift ideas that would have sufficiently done the job (thanks Paper Skyscraper for not being in Mint Hill), but as it were, I was there, in Mint Hill, where I loathingly reside, and as I tell people routinely, Mint Hill just doesn't have much to choose from (in anything, men included). There were two cards that I had to choose from. Both were tinging on the side of cheesy and both were altogether pretty lame. One of them made mention of faith, courage, and strength- three of my favorite attributes in people and aliens. The other, had the words inside, "you are thought of more often than you think." I was leaning towards that one, but it had a picture of a cheesy telephone drawn on it, and it looked like something you could pick up at the stab-n-grab on the way to the beach. I decided against it. I got the semi-cheesy one that mentioned courage. I liked what it said. And I had no choice. I would probably go to Paper Skyscraper this afternoon had I not taken the bus today. Taking the bus is economical, but not practical when you are a single mom. Oh well. I refuse to let my lack of a proper card hold me back from finally sending the card. In fact, I think I will just go straight to Walgreens when I get to my car and buy a new card there since they might have a better selection. I'm going to look really silly and really chintzy returning a Hallmark card to Harris Teeter. Who cares? I'm sure I've looked much worse. Just ask anyone I know. I've toppled the charts on looking stupid. I am a hall of famer.
So this is what my note will say verbatim:
For my birthday this year, I wanted to give something precious away, and since I already lost my virginity, I thought I would invite you to join in my life. I think we've been separated long enough. Don't you? I am ready now. I hope you are too. But if you are not, I will hunt you down and kill your family.
OK, no. That's not what it will say verbatim. But it sounded pretty damn funny. Instead I think I will say this:
For my birthday this year, I decided I would send out the best invitation ever to only one person. We have been separated long enough. I'm ready to invite you into my life. I hope you are ready to join. It will only cost you $500/Mo. with no down payment payable in equal installments by the 5th of the month.
OK, no again. But that would be so funny. It will be short and you get the gist. I don't plan on letting her off the hook so easily by telling her that I forgive her for letting me go, even though I'm not mad or hurt. She doesn't need to know everything yet. I also don't plan on telling her about Sarah, but I will include a picture of us together. I think a picture says a thousand words and a few cuss words in the mix in braille if you throw up a bird, which I don't intend on doing. But that would be kinda funny too. I'm beginning to see a pattern here. White couch here I come.
Lastly, and on a more sincere note, I would like to say that I welcome a relationship with my birth mother, and despite having made a mockery of my life and of adoption in general, by writing a blog for my peers and the world to see and gawk at, I truly do care about the outcome. I did this for one main reason- to document my search for other adoptees who are in limbo and in search themselves and feel isolated in that they don't have many peers who can relate to their situation, nor understand, and it has ultimately become a creative outlet for me to express my feelings without cussing someone out, which is never good.
I will post a video of myself dropping the letter in the mailbox at work tomorrow, provided I can get someone to video it. My timing might be off by one day because I don't know how long it will take for the letter to get from Crown Town to J-Vegas, but we shall see. It's been almost 36 years, she can wait one more day. Crap, I ended up telling you anyway. I can't keep a secret to save my life.
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