I went to Half Price books today. As I was in line to check out, I saw a book about Heath Ledger. It was only five dollars, so I grabbed it. I'm excited to read it but also feel kind of icky, because it might be an unauthorized gossipy biography thing. Though I am tempted by that stuff, I feel it's not quite good for our soul.
But I have it. I'm going to read it soon. I'm not going to read about it before I read it because that will cloud my judgement. I'll read the book; THEN I'll cloud my judgement by reading reviews of the book and information about the author.
I was thinking how not everything you read or see is true. When I was on TV, they said I was born in Texas. That's not quite true. Well, actually it's very much not true. I had never even been to Texas until I was in my early 20's.
I didn't mind the mistake that much, though, because I kind of liked the idea of being born and raised somewhere. I've moved around a lot and don't really feel like I have a hometown. Actually, probably the thing I have that's the closest to being my hometown is Disney World. It's probably the place that's been the most consistent in my life.
Anyway, in rare moments I'm okay with people making mistakes about me. Often I get annoyed. I was annoyed recently when my mom said that my obsession with Australia began when my cousin moved there. I lost my cool a bit about that.
If I understood her correctly, she thought I went to Australia to visit my cousin and then I became obsessed. It makes little sense because my cousin lived about an hour away for a couple of years and we hardly bothered to see each other.
After I freaked out a bit, she corrected herself. My cousin's move to Australia isn't what sparked my obsession, but her moving there gave me the kick in the butt to follow my obsession. I'm not sure if that's what she meant originally, and it got lost in translation. Or my protest made her realize she had it wrong, and so she changed her tune.
Anyway, then today I started thinking, I kind of like my mom's story. And in my head, I added to it. It's really wild. Here's how it goes....
Maybe I didn't see my cousin a lot in Texas, but that doesn't mean I didn't have a huge obsessive crush on her. Maybe I was just too shy to act on it. Plus, she's my cousin, and we're both married. So maybe I just bottled it all up. Then when she moved to Australia, I was devastated. I had to go visit her, so I pretended to have this sudden interest in visiting Australia. Maybe in some weird way it was easier to say Hey, I'm going to visit you in Sydney rather than Hey, I'm going to visit you in Dallas!
The thing that wouldn't fit is that when we went back to Sydney in 2013, she no longer lived there. BUT maybe I just wanted to be in the city in which she used to live. Maybe that was enough for me. I could feel her aura as soon as we stepped off the plane.
I personally prefer the real story of how I became obsessed with Australia, but this fake one isn't too awful.
But I have it. I'm going to read it soon. I'm not going to read about it before I read it because that will cloud my judgement. I'll read the book; THEN I'll cloud my judgement by reading reviews of the book and information about the author.
I was thinking how not everything you read or see is true. When I was on TV, they said I was born in Texas. That's not quite true. Well, actually it's very much not true. I had never even been to Texas until I was in my early 20's.
I didn't mind the mistake that much, though, because I kind of liked the idea of being born and raised somewhere. I've moved around a lot and don't really feel like I have a hometown. Actually, probably the thing I have that's the closest to being my hometown is Disney World. It's probably the place that's been the most consistent in my life.
Anyway, in rare moments I'm okay with people making mistakes about me. Often I get annoyed. I was annoyed recently when my mom said that my obsession with Australia began when my cousin moved there. I lost my cool a bit about that.
If I understood her correctly, she thought I went to Australia to visit my cousin and then I became obsessed. It makes little sense because my cousin lived about an hour away for a couple of years and we hardly bothered to see each other.
After I freaked out a bit, she corrected herself. My cousin's move to Australia isn't what sparked my obsession, but her moving there gave me the kick in the butt to follow my obsession. I'm not sure if that's what she meant originally, and it got lost in translation. Or my protest made her realize she had it wrong, and so she changed her tune.
Anyway, then today I started thinking, I kind of like my mom's story. And in my head, I added to it. It's really wild. Here's how it goes....
Maybe I didn't see my cousin a lot in Texas, but that doesn't mean I didn't have a huge obsessive crush on her. Maybe I was just too shy to act on it. Plus, she's my cousin, and we're both married. So maybe I just bottled it all up. Then when she moved to Australia, I was devastated. I had to go visit her, so I pretended to have this sudden interest in visiting Australia. Maybe in some weird way it was easier to say Hey, I'm going to visit you in Sydney rather than Hey, I'm going to visit you in Dallas!
The thing that wouldn't fit is that when we went back to Sydney in 2013, she no longer lived there. BUT maybe I just wanted to be in the city in which she used to live. Maybe that was enough for me. I could feel her aura as soon as we stepped off the plane.
I personally prefer the real story of how I became obsessed with Australia, but this fake one isn't too awful.
Edited to add 2/28/2025- I had another similar thing happen in 2023. My dad wrote and published his autobiography. In the book, the publisher had friends and family write essays/letters about my dad and their relationship to him. Though I very much enjoyed reading the book and learning more about my dad's life...there were bits that irked me. Such as the publisher putting words into my mouth that made me look more like I align with my dad more politically than I do.
Also, one of our very close family friends mentioned my involvement with the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation and camp; and attributed it to my having a friend with a sibling that had Cystic Fibrosis.
In a way, both this fiction and my mom's fiction erases my autism. Instead of being an autistic girl/woman that had a special interest in Cystic Fibrosis and later a special interest in Australia...that led me down certain paths. I just become someone motivated by social drives. Which is fine. But it's not me. Or at least it wasn't me in these two instances.
AND for me, both of these instances are huge aspects of my life story. It pisses me off when people get it wrong.
Read my novel: The Dead are Online
"unauthorized gossipy biography thing". Sounds perfect.
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