I hear voices in my head a lot. Not the Son of Sam kind of voices…no one is telling me to murder my neighbors or anything. Just your normal, every day, voices talking to me on a regular basis. Sometimes it’s song lyrics or a movie quote. Sometimes it’s a family member. I often hear my sister Erin telling me to “Be nice…it’s Christmas,” around the holidays. Lately, I hear my niece Lena asking how my book is coming – usually when I’m on the couch binge watching Grey’s Anatomy.
The voices I hear most are those of people who are no longer with us. Every time I leave the refrigerator door open while I pour a glass of iced tea, I hear my Nana telling me that leaving the fridge open is the biggest electricity waster. I have no idea if that is factual, but she said it to me so many times when I was growing up, I have taken it as such. And I hear her yell at me every single time I do it. Not that it stops me, I kind of enjoy hearing her yell at me in my head.
First and foremost, though, of the voices is my great grandmother, known most affectionately to me as Great Nana. Although she passed away when I was fourteen, she is still my go to source of wisdom for so many things. And she, too, lives in my head and talks to me on a nearly daily basis.
Just last night, as I was having dinner at Siena with my husband, she reminded me for the fourteen thousandth time to get my elbows off the table. This was a pet peeve of hers, I think. I once heard her scold my father for the same thing.
There are so many Great Nana-isms that fill my life, and eventually I’ll share them here. I don’t really know what else I’m doing with this blog, beyond publicly exploring what the heck I want to be when I grow up. After more than twenty years of talking about being a writer I’m just going to sit here and do it. Come along for the ride if you like.
It’s not all going to be about the voices in my head. There might be some book reviews or I may write about the things I do for fun. Or maybe you’ll get to hear about my vacation plans. It could be anything that pops into my head…which can be a strange place sometimes, and not always easy to navigate. Once, after he failed to follow my convoluted stream of consciousness, I told my husband that my brain is a scary place. His response: “It’s like a Hallmark movie, written by Stephen King.” That’s me, in a nutshell.
And maybe you’ve read this and decided you don’t care about all the wacky thoughts and the people who live in my head. And that’s ok too. Because as Great Nana would say, “I love me, who do you love?”