I wasn't exactly sure what to type at first, whethere I shoud start into my essays or maybe set the tone with a poem.  But you know what?  I want to tell you everything about everything, all of my secrets.  I want to be the open book everyone thinks I am. 

I can't do that, though.

But I will tell you about one of my stranger problems.  


Me.

I have this, like, inability to get nervous.  I can get on a stage without any reservations, or anywhere else.  I will eat absolutely anything and I will talk to anyone.

Anyone, that is, that i don't get nervous around.


Does that make any sense?  It doesn't to me!  If I can talk to a complete stranger and laugh about it, why can't I say two intelligent words to my own boyfriend without other people around?

I have poems, and essays, and books of entirely intelligent words that I can insert into everyday conversation and have no trouble, except when the other person says, "What the heck does that word mean?"

"Hi?  It is a greeting."  I will say, and they will cock their head like a puppy.

But I have like this, selective dialect-like thing around him.  It doesn't make any sense.


And if you dare attribute it to a "girl-thing,"  I will come to your house and bite you.  Really hard.


So I guess that's about it.  You know my problem. I have it off my chest.  You are probably utterly disgusted with my problems, especially if you know who I am or who I am talking about.


Love,
Lindsay