At The Screen With The World Flowing In

Chapter 1: Good Girls Are Gone

But I'm trying to endear people here, and going on and on for five pages to basically say "You don't speak for everybody, dickmite!" seems like maybe the wrong way to go about it. So, here's the thing; Even if I agreed with her that it may well be inappropriate for someone to be so willfully exposed all the time, I still wouldn't really bother bitching about it. At least not in such a way that I'd shame, demean, or even outright demonize anyone who isn't offended by it.

At the end of the day, Madonna's not hurting anyone by showing a little skin, nor would she be even if she walked out onto the red carpet stark naked. She's just living her life the way it makes sense to her, and has been doing so in the same fashion for literally decades. I don't see how people still find it shocking. That's shocking! Madonna being comfortable with her body and sexuality and not giving a shit how that makes you feel?

That's...that's Tuesday.

In my time, I've noticed that people in the more developed sections of the Western world seem to have a big issue with other people doing things that go against their own personal morality. I guess these would fall in with the 'first world problems' the internet goes on about. In North America specifically, it's usually as regards nudity, or anything thought of as a sexual presentation. God forbid someone isn't terrified of naked, human skin, right?*

And I'm not saying that everyone should walk around naked all the time either, just that if they did it wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing by default. A puritanical attitude breeds (or could even be considered) extremism, and extremism doesn't do anyone a single lick of good. Not everything's so black and white. As a matter of fact, far more often than not, life's all about the grey area, folks! Something we Harpers always seem to learn earlier than is probably healthy.

When I was a little girl, I learned a stern distaste for prudish, puritanical bullshit behavior from simply observing my parents, two of the aforementioned Harpers; My dearly-departed mother Maryanne and my father Reggie. If you've ever read any of my books, the main character of Roger Hartley is not-even-kinda-loosely based on him.

For those of you who haven't, just know that my father is a very intense, and often intimidating man. However, behind the rough surface layers (of which there are many), you'll find one of the sweetest, most viciously-brilliant men you're likely to ever meet. He's a total teddy bear to the right people, and no-one (aside from me) was more 'the right people' than my always-wonderful Mom.

Mom and Pop were from two exceedingly different schools of thought. She was raised in the Orthodox faith—and still held on to much of that upbringing until she was taken from us—while my father is, was, and always will be an unrepentant heathen (insert scary violin music here). Most people would think a union like theirs would be doomed from the start, but I'd argue those people were never truly in love with anyone themselves.

Not like my parents were.

Mom's murder did a number on me, and I'll address it in more brutal detail some day, but it nearly literally killed my Dad. He's still not over it decades later. Plural. Nor should he be for that matter. My Mom was fucking awesome, full stop (Hey, every PG-13 movie's allowed one fucking f-bomb, okay? Chill. Oops!)!

Anyhoo, rather than pulling me in two different directions, forcing what they believed or didn't, and causing years of friction I'd have to fight through to make sense of shit, they'd just answer any questions I had in as truthful and neutral a manner as possible. That's pretty fucking cool, if ya' ask me. They just told me what I wanted to know as best they knew how. That decision didn't go over well with my Mom's father, Jack (whom I refuse to refer to by the name Grampa). Not one, tiny bit.

But I don't wanna get into that shit right now.

My Mom and Dad were especially concerned about not handing down any of the 'Catholic Guilt-style Bullshit™' to me that Mom had beat into her growing up, and in the context of this rant, that meant being open and honest about the human body, its many parts, and their varied (often super-gross) uses. Of course, their candor on the subject kinda got me in tons of trouble in school, because I effectively handled sex-ed for a bunch of other kids when the subject of babies came up, and they started talking about storks, magic wands, cabbage patches, and other dumb shit. As it turns out, the parents of most kindergartners don't particularly like it when their kids come home with intimate knowledge of human anatomy and a boat-load of questions about it! Who knew!?*

I remember the school sending home a letter, and my parents reading it. Mom started laughing hysterically (like she always did), and Dad rolled his eyes and calmly went into his study, coming out about fifteen minutes later with a sealed envelope to give to the teacher. To this day, I don't know exactly what it said, but the teacher didn't look at me for weeks after reading it.

She got Reggie Harpered hard, I know that!

As an adult (still coming to terms with the accuracy of that classification, by the way), my thirst for the truth in my youth has served me well. Especially where my own daughter is concerned. My husband Sean and I try our best to do the same for Natasha as my parents did for me. The big difference being that she is infinitely more jumbled and excitable than I ever was, so talking to her can be sort of a minefield of strange, energetic curiosity.

She's a good kid, but definitely 'Chaotic Good', if ya' know what I mean. I don't know where she gets it, I just know I love it and am tired out by it all at once. We haven't gotten any letters about her like the one I got, but she's only in Kindergarten as I write this, so there's still plenty of time! I'm confident we'll get a bunch, and I can't wait to read 'em. She is my kid, after all. It's gonna happen.

So, now that ya' have a little background on my views and how and why they were formed, I hope you can see where I'm coming from as far as this other blogger's petulant behavior's concerned. Now, I know what you're thinking; "Lizzie, why does it seem like you only briefly mentioned that idiot blogger?"

Well, dear reader, to be perfectly honest with you...I didn't think very far ahead! Or if I did, maybe I took a page from my Dad's book and said, "Bring it, bitch," not caring how things turned out. Maybe (coughdefinitelycough) this was all written stream-of-consciousness, and I got a little sidetracked. Or maybe I'll just let you decide! I'm all about free thought, after all! Use your noggins, people. It's good for ya'.

Honestly, it's good for everyone outside of you as well.

Truthfully, I just needed something of a springboard for this, my inaugural (in-blog-ural?) post! Something that served as a window into how I'm wired. I suppose I could've picked an easier to digest topic like 'What's the best Pop-Tart?' (unfrosted brown sugar), or 'When does Hugh Jackman look his best?' (Always. The answer is always. FIGHT ME.), or even 'When and why the fuck did the Discovery Channel turn into the Scrooge McDuck channel?', but that's more superficial stuff, and there's no fun in that for me. Or maybe there's too much fun in that. Isn't the internet always supposed to be serious business?

I don't think I know all the rules yet.

Really, the intent of this blog is for readers to kind of get to know me as I truly am, as opposed to how they may think I am. Sometimes it's hard for someone in the public eye to connect with other people in a meaningful way while still retaining some of their privacy. This is my attempt at doing that. Next time, I'll talk a bit about what made me me in a series of (often embarrassing) anecdotes! FUN TIMES!

So, ya' can love me, hate me, or be completely indifferent to me, but hopefully you'll at least understand me a little better through these posts.

That's about all anyone can hope for...right?

Right?

Right?!

Vielen Dank für das Lesen!!!
-E. (I don't know why I'm selectively German today.)

*Denotes sarcasm for those who can't catch it through text. I'm totally lookin' out for ya'!