Month 11. Clarifications.

Ok folks. We need to take tabs. (Can't we say that in English? I wanted to use it in a translation, but I couldn't find the phrase "take tabs" online anywhere.)

This will be a meta-entry. A blog entry about blog entries, and about Cheesy. If you're satisfied with all my other entries, you don't have to read this one.

Cheesy is called Cheesy for a reason. I've mentioned this before. Don't take her too seriously. It's the only way to understand her. And don't take her too personally. Sometimes she slips in a comment just for you – yes, you – but most of the time she's just thinking out loud to herself. If she meant offense to anyone personally, that person would know it.

I grant that cheese is heavy. Cheesy can be that way. But cheese is also goopy and changeable. It dribbles all over the place, then hardens up into a different form. Cheesy is like that too. There's no need to worry about any kind of permanent meltdown – if she's dribbly, she'll get back into shape. Or maybe it's the tough crust you don't like. Don't worry, if you cut her the goop will still fall out. And when you cut open camembert, what's your reaction? Do you cry? Do you panic that the whole round of cheese is going to fall apart? I promise you there should be no other reaction than laughter, and hopefully some appetite for more. Cheese is fun. If Cheesy's blogs are depressing sometimes, dribbly and romantic, well it's just the state of the cheese at that moment. There's nothing underlying.

The thing I've come to realize about writing is that it is always subject to interpretation, like art. At least when you speak to someone, you have extra clues like intonation and body language. But with writing it's just words. And sometimes I think to myself, "Oh damn, people are really misunderstanding me. I must be a lousy writer." But even the best writers end up ambiguous. Take Hemingway. He uses choppy sentences. You think he's getting to the point. It's quick to read. Then suddenly you're at the end of the book and you realize you've missed the point entirely. So I'm sorry if you don't always get my point. The thing is that (a) sometimes there is no point, I truly am babbling, and (b) no matter how hard I try, words can't always convey the point. It's okay if you interpret me. It's okay if the way you interpret me isn't how I intended it. But if you interpret me in a bad way, then it's your loss, because I don't mean anything bad against anyone.

The situation sucks because this blog is the only way for many of you to get details of my life now that I'm in Europe. Maybe I should treat the blog as a conversation with all of you, rather than a conversation with myself.

The next thing is a response to a few of you who have suggested, in your own ways, that I'm one of these white upper-middle-class girls who obsessively seek out problems in their otherwise perfect lives. It's a valid opinion. Maybe I'm a white upper-middle-class girl. And okay, maybe I like problems (ha, ha). But don't you dare conclude that I don't appreciate everything I've had in my life. I love my parents. I more respect for them than any other adults I've met, and not just because they're my parents. I'm constantly amazed at how generous, caring, understanding, wise, helpful and open-minded they are. I love my brother. He's simply tops in my world. You mess with him and you will feel my wrath. (And I don't mean that personally to anyone.) I love my whole family. My grandparents are such an inspiration. My aunts and uncles are like old friends, and I love their company. I love my friends. I'm not naming names but you know exactly who you are, don't doubt it, and I look up to you every day. I love my dogs. I grew up in a great house in a great neighbourhood. I've had a great education. I've had priceless opportunities to work and travel and learn. Do you understand yet? Are you convinced I'm grateful? Here's the point, no misinterpretations: I'm grateful, and I'm thanking you.

I remembered just now all of you who have advised, "Don't be defensive." Well yes, I guess I'm justifying myself here. But mostly I'm just trying to explain. I don't feel angry at anyone for interpreting what they interpreted from my blog.

And here's another argument justifying certain "moody" undertones in my writing. There are four parts to the argument: (a) Crime and Punishment by Dostoevsky, (b) The Myth of Sisyphus by Camus, (c) The Sun Also Rises by Hemingway, and (d) autumn. If you read (a)-(c) during (d), I guarantee you won't feel like a million bucks either.

And so: happy happy! To hell with existentialism! We are all exactly what we were meant to be! Maybe there even is a god! Hoorah!

Actually I do think that if you've never read any existentialist works, then maybe you won't fully understand the blog. That's not an incitement or a self-classification or a definitive conclusion. It's just a thought. Treat everything Cheesy says that way.

Almost forgot the last thing I need to clarify. Here's the point, no misinterpretations: I'm not running away from anything. I'm not fundamentally against North America or Montreal. I just think there are some things that Europeans do better. And I'm just having a good time living in different conditions, learning different languages, different lifestyles, different frames of mind. I truly enjoy entering into different frames of mind. I truly do enjoy becoming different people for periods of time. I imagine you might not understand this. For some insight, you can read Invisible Man (great novel, see link). The point: I sometimes say things that "I" don't really mean, because I'm in the frame of mind of someone else. The way to understand other people's beliefs is to truly buy into them. Then you can evaluate. How can I learn about a foreign culture without ever really entering into it? I need to become European in order to understand Europe. Hell, I need to become European in order to fully understand North America. Cheesy is also there for that reason: she represents the fact that I'm taking on different points of view. I'm not "becoming" anything. I'm just curious about how other people think, and I find it amusing to try to think the way others do. I'm cheesy. I take many forms, but I take nothing too seriously. I know I often seem serious, but don't let appearances fool you. Cheese always comes with a grain of salt. I'll be back in Montreal soon enough.