Studies show that, whether we admit it or not, everyone loves to hear their name spoken. Most of us can't resist looking in the mirror as we go past, whether to admire God's handiwork or critique it. Isn't it funny, though, how many of us don't like looking at photographs of ourselves? Or hear our own voice on a recorder? Oh, I don't mind looking at photographs of myself when I was younger. And thinner. It's these past 20-25 years' worth of photos that I don't like. The same image we see in the mirror looks much older, and often heavier, when looking at a still shot or video. "Do I really look that old/heavy/grey-haired/etc??" Perhaps our daily view of ourself is a bit distorted, to enable us regular folk to avoid the self-loathing that we often find ourselves engaged in when looking at a photograph. Whatever. I just choose to see a much younger, thinner, more attractive woman in the mirror than what some silly photographer captures in print.
Whitney thinks it is so funny (and narcissistic) that I go back and read my old blog posts. Narcissistic? Maybe. However, I prefer to think of it as enjoying a walk down Memory Lane. A week or so after I've written a post, I've pretty much forgotten about whatever it was I wrote. So I like to go back and read it, to remind myself what I did last week that was so blogworthy. Much of it has to do with my grandchildren anyway, so it's not so much about me. Besides, I like the challenge of finding typos and incorrect grammar in my old posts, and congratulating myself on my editing skills.... even if nobody else will ever go back and see it, and perhaps will always wonder why I didn't catch it the first time around. So I don't think it is narcissistic at all for me to read my old posts. I enjoy being reminded of the wonderful blessings in my life that I may have already forgotten about. If you're a new reader, by all means, you need to go back to the beginning and read them all your ownself. You'll learn far more about me than you'd ever want to know, but you'll also meet the incredible members of my family, and learn how much I dearly love them. And you'll be totally jealous that I have the best friends who ever lived. :-) You may or may not agree with my political and/or religious views, but that's okay too. Everyone is welcome.
I say all that to try to convince myself that I am indeed not a narcissist. Because I have discovered something that I want to do. I want to print my blog. There's a cool website where you just type in your blog address, and it will fix you right up with a bound book-version of your blog, complete with your photos. I want to do it. Whitney just laughs. But how cool would THAT be!! To have your very own book, about your very own (whatever you blog about) life, friends, family, struggles, victories, beliefs, joys, sorrows... I just think it's cool. And I might just do it.
Who knows. Maybe there won't be any such thing as computers or the internet, or blogs when my grandchildren grow up. They may not have the opportunity to read about CathyB in this format. While all the other kids are reading boring history books, they can be reading a book about how their Greemaw is solely responsible for global warming (chili incident), or her innovative use of Wal Mart bags, see how she looked in a bikini when she was 17 years old, or learn the reason why she will never again attempt to put on pantyhose in a bathroom stall. At a funeral. Who wouldn't just love that???
I prefer the label "historian" rather than "narcissist" any day. CathyB in print. Coming soon to a bookshelf in my room.