It’s a scandal. It’s an outrage. It’s positively shocking.
Shocking, but true. My blog in which I dump my internal monologue about being a 20-something single female trying to find my place in the world is narrated by a man. Believe me, I was just as appalled. So appalled that I broke my first new year’s resolution–to blog more–because I was determined to get to the bottom of this appalling situation. But it turns out there’s nothing to get to the bottom of; the voice in my head that narrates blog posts as I lay in bed trying to sleep is undeniably male.
After a couple of days of not knowing what to blog about–or, rather, not knowing what to blog about next–I had attempted to stash my half-baked blog entries away in the back knee-wall closet of my mind so I could get a night of much-needed sleep before a busy day of work (the first in almost a month). I even tuned into some mindless reruns of Fresh Prince of Bel Air in order to assure my wit was thoroughly starved, that my blogginess might stay at bay through the night. No sooner had my head hit the pillow than I heard it–no, him.
“I’ve come full circle on Valentine’s Day fashion.”
At first I dismissed him. “No, no,” I protested, “Valentine’s Day is over a month away. Just because the retailers have jumped the gun doesn’t mean the blog should follow suit.”
“True, but this would be a perfect way to introduce–”
He didn’t have to finish, because I knew he was right, but I didn’t even give him the opportunity to finish because the speed with which my head sprang up from my pillow deserved one of those needle-being-abruptly-lifted-from-a-record-on-a-turntable sound effects, which would have surely drowned out any more words that came from this voice–his voice. I shook my head defiantly. I must’ve been imagining things (about the voice in my head…yes, I know.)–maybe I was super imposing Will Smith’s voice over my own, sort of like when you have a dream but familiar voices and faces get mismatched due to having heard or seen one more recently. So I closed my eyes, and just as my head sunk into the pillow:
“You could at least go to the computer for 10 minutes and put down a draft.”
Undeniable baritone. Deeper and more undeniably baritone than the Ikea lady. Definitely a dude. I spent a good half hour letting him ramble on not listening to the content (or bothering to go to the computer to get it down, if only stream-of-consciousness style) but listening to obsessing over the voice. I’m still not sure what male voice it most closely resembles, but if I figure it out…I’ll send you the bill from my shrink.
I’m going through enough of a quarter-life crisis right now, psyche, so if you could quit trying to mess with my gender identity, that’d be swell. The rest of you can look forward to that Valentine’s post, more on my preeminent crisis, and more blog posts in general, in the very near future.