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1. Years ago I worked as a healer and got a woman who was nearly a quadriplegic out of a wheelchair. She recovered to the point of independence and is still walking and driving and traveling to this day. She became a healer in turn.
2. I’ve chipped two teeth, broken a toe and fractured a wrist while fighting. (The wrist belonged to someone else. It was a sparring accident.) I got much more hurt and into much more trouble preparing for violence than having to deal with it for real. I should have taken verbal judo, instead.
3. Before I was an atheist, I was a member of a fundamentalist Christian church. I lost my faith—or tossed it over my shoulder on the way out—after a couple of close friends died.
4. At one point I trained six hours a day in Hapkido. I thought I did it because I was a bad ass. Actually, I did it because I am not a bad ass. I was searching for a way to protect myself from a childhood filled with violence.
5. I didn’t have a sense of humor, or express it much, anyway, until I was 22. I learned I could make people laugh at the Banff School of Fine Arts. I had tried to be funny previously, but my family and high school and college experience repeatedly shut me down. “Who do you think you are?” they said. Once I got out of bad situations I realized the answer to that question is, “You’re uptight, I’m me. And that’s enough.”
6. I had a job from which I should have been fired. I made the boss laugh so hard every time we weren’t arguing that I kept the job until I finally left of my accord. Sadly. Shoulda gotten out of there much sooner.
7. I lost a job I did very well. The Powers that Be didn’t like questionable policies being questioned. They assumed I did my job poorly because I was a pain in the ass. They didn’t recognize what integrity looked like. I’m better off. They’re the same.
8. I’m still convinced someone’s watching me but I don’t believe in God. I cannot resolve this contradiction. Could be narcissism, though. This very list would seem to tip the scale that way.
9. I read ten books at one time. Minimum. Aside from enjoying my huge book collection, I browse a library is like a crack head loots a pharmacy in a riot.
10. I’m writing four books at one time, which explains why they are so slow to come to market. When they do arrive later this year, they’ll arrive in a mighty clump. Or, if you’re not into my fiction, a big dump.
11. I’ve been a best man only once, at a gay wedding. That should be an innocuous fact. Instead, since the world is the fearful place it is, it’s a fact of which I am very proud. One day soon, it will be a fact that should construe nothing more than an idle curiosity.
12. I used to be angry all the time. Now I sublimate my rage with humor. Actually, I joke around a lot. Now that I think of it, that’s still all rage.
13. I remember every slight, real or imagined, with perfect eidetic clarity. I’m still angry at dead people who insulted me when I was seven.
14. I am an extremely gifted massage therapist. My palpation skills, knowledge and execution are beyond compare. It’s not the sort of thing that gets much respect, though.
15. If I hadn’t met my wife and soul mate, there’s an excellent chance I’d be living in a refrigerator box. Or extremely depressed in a very responsible job with a couple of angry ex-wives. Instead I’m always safe at home, hiding in my fortress of solitude.
16. One of the best, oldest friends I ever had walked away from me one day. I called and called and he never called back. At first I assumed he was injured or dead. Then I found out I was dead to him. I have suspicions, but the truth is, I really don’t know why that happened. I wish him well, wherever he is.
17. Before kids, fear defined me. My children redefined my life (as happens to everyone, right?) Now it’s all about the love. I thought I’d work much more after the birth of my eldest. Then I held her for the first time, locked eyes and I knew I couldn’t allow anyone else to guard her. I became a house husband and stay-at-home dad permanently.
18. I’m scared about a future with no financial security. I’m taking more risks, not fewer, to change that. Take the shot.
19. I wish my few friends lived right next door. There’s not much chance of that considering I’ve moved about twenty times in my life and have lived for extended times in three provinces, far east, far west and central.
20. I give a lot because I’m a people pleaser. Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever get much back. They say karma’s a bitch. I say karma’s an extremely slow bitch. Where’s my lottery win, bitch?!
21. My childhood really began when I escaped a small town childhood. They resented me for saying life would begin when I left. I was right, though. Cities are my natural environment. (Also, I was right about the algebra: Never used it, never will.) Escape is my answer again.
22. Fiction allows me to murder people in a socially acceptable way. I think about it. A lot.
23. I’m a caring and very sensitive person. I’m also selfish. I cannot resolve this contradiction for you if you are confused.
24. In my internal monologue, there’s a lot more swearing.
25. My ego’s bigger than yours. Also, my id is BIG LIKE HULK. But aside from reading that here, even if you met me in person, you would never ever know it.
I have held a human heart in my hands.
However, even if you saw open somebody’s head and peer in, no one really knows the inside of anyone else’s skull.
Filed under: Unintentionally hilarious, What about Chazz?, author profile, Banff School of Fine Arts, Hapkido, Humor, Humour, Internal monologue
Perth, Scotland. Just when she has grown accustomed to exile, local police discover a mutilated body outside the abandoned church where she lives. Recognizing the murder as the work of one of her own kind, Eilidh must choose: flee, or learn to tap into the forbidden magic that cost her everything.
C h a z z W r i t e s . c o m 