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Confessions of a "Good Girl"…

September 9, 2007
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Why does it seem like I always end up flat on my back, all out of breath and contemplating my place in this world. When I find myself in such positions, I usually wonder, “How did I get here?”

This time it was because I had tried to lift a box that was far too heavy and I fell down. And, of course, the box landed on top of me.

Every now and then I find myself in this state underneath something other than a box. As the fella on top of me jostles rhythmically I’m often more interested in the cracks in the ceiling.

“I really need to talk to my landlord about those cracks.” I think — and, inevitably, I wonder, “How did I get here.”

It’s one of those questions that can be very intense if you consider it metaphysically rather than to just jump to the simple, physical answer, “I laid down and he got on top of me.”

Of course I have always been more of the metaphysical type. In fact I’ve been told — more than once — that I read too far into everything. But then, when your physical-self is 70-pounds overweight, doesn’t even have big boobs and can barely pass as cute you tend to keep your mind off of the purely physical aspects of life.

Maybe that’s why I never really could enjoy sex.

(This is probaly going to be the first page of a book I’ve been working on. The basic thrust is it’s a bout a Christian and, well sex — among other things. All of the ups and downs and spiritual implications and so on. I might even turn it into a movie. Yes, it is somewhat biographical — which means that if it becomes a movie there will be a lot of slapstick. So I’m wondering: If you read this on the first page, or back cover of a book would you be interested in reading more? Why or why not?)

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