Wednesday, October 5, 2011

Maturity Insecurity

I’m not your lover, I’m not your friend.
I am something that you’ll never comprehend.
--I Would Die 4 U, Prince

My body is turning on me.
Crawling out of bed in the morning is a little harder than it was ten years ago.  My hands hurt.  I can’t open diet Coke bottles anymore.  I have gas, and frequently.  Parts of me that used to look a man straight in the eye now stare at the ground.  I’ve had surgery on places where no one should have to have surgery.
My youth has taken off like a prom dress, despite Estee Lauder’s promises.
Although I’m not looking forward to hot flashes or hair growing where it shouldn’t, I have decided to embrace one age-related affliction:  selective hearing.  For example, my 70 year-old father can’t hear my mother yelling to turn the football game down when she’s only a foot away in her recliner, but if I open a sack of chocolate covered peanuts from three rooms over while listening to AC/DC, he’s asking for one.
I’m hoping selective hearing will help me with this nagging voice in my head.  It’s been with me for as long as I can remember, like an inconvenient birthmark that sounds like Fran Drescher.  And when that voice starts, she goes for the jugular.  I call these periods a Bitchy Inner Monologue Beast Outbreak--or BIMBO for short.

BIMBO:  Are you still working on the same story?  You’re never going to get that thing published.  Surrender the fantasy. 
Me:  I think I can polish it.

BIMBO:  Can’t polish a turd.
Me:  It’s not that bad.
BIMBO:  Snooki called.  She wants her manuscript back.
Me:  The bachelorette party scene is funny.  All my betas laugh. 
BIMBO:  They laugh the polite laughter of people who think you’re two steps from losing it.  Same thing they do when you wear your jeggings.

Me:  Well, maybe it is missing something. 
BIMBO:  I think I know what you’re missing--it’s called plot.

Me:  There’s no motivation for the main character.  And I need less backstory.

BIMBO:  You need more pizazz.  Put another sex scene there.
Me:  That’s a funeral scene.
BIMBO:  Not if you make the corpse sparkly.  Necrophilia is only bad if you’re human.

Me:  Do you think I’m a terrible writer?
BIMBO:  Yes.  Although your grocery lists are quite riveting.  Who knew there were so many types of vodka?

Me:  Maybe if I cut the first three chapters and start with the car crash scene.  OMIGOD!  That’s brilliant!
BIMBO:  Uh, are you listening to me?  You should seriously consider a different career path.  Something you’re good at, like making poor fashion choices or collating paper.
Me:  I can do this!  I’m awesome.  

BIMBO:  HELLO?  Have you looked at yourself in the mirror today?  Because that antioxidant cream you bought is a total rip off.  I suggest you invest in paper bags.
Me:  Did you say something?  Because I think I just heard somebody open some chocolate peanuts.
Doubt and insecurity are unavoidable and affect us all--just like aging.  But truly growing up as a writer involves using that selective hearing to ignore the BIMBOs.  Here’s to being a mature writer, both chronologically and methodically. 
Happy Insecure Writer’s Support Group Wednesday!  For more tales from the trenches, visit Alex J. Cavanaugh’s blog, he’s the one that made this all possible. 


  1. /hugs. I loved this. You are amazing and you are gonna make a jillion dollars on your fantasy novel and I will be one of the first to buy a copy.

  2. I loved "my youth has taken off like a prom dress!" You're too young to be going through all this. If you're really worried, just do what I do; spend a lot of time around old people and at the zoo. No one will suspect you there. I really enjoy your writing! Julie

  3. I have issues with BIMBO too, dang it!

  4. That particular Prince lyric has serious sway over me.

    Okay. About three posts ago, I posted about BIMBO. Only mine's called Baby Jane.

    You and me, dude, surfin' the same wavelength with our distinct voices.


  5. Do you want me to bitch slap BIMBO for you?
    Because it is apparent you are an amazing writer.
    But I hear you on youth waning. I turned forty this year. I don't love that fact, but I am what I am!

  6. 'Parts of me that used to look a man straight in the eye now stare at the ground.' I hear you!

    Bimbo doesn't know what she'stalking about. I'm just saying ...

  7. 'Parts of me that used to look a man straight in the eye now stare at the ground' and 'My youth has taken off like a prom dress' are pure genius! I'd say I'm laughing my a$$ off but the darn it is still there.

    Great post Julie. Kick Bimbo to the curb, she doesn't know what she's talking about!

  8. That is hilriously fantastic. I totally have conversations like this with myself all the time :)

  9. I miss my size 4 short-shorts, and the super powers they gave me at stopping traffic.

    Well...I still stop traffic but not for the same reasons. ;-)

    Brilliant post.

  10. Dang, I gotta get me some of that selective hearing too. Her voice still drones in my ear way too often.

  11. Aww...this is awesome. A great concept to hold on to no matter your age. =)

  12. That BIMBO is hilarious, but I don't want her anywhere near you or me, thank you very much. There's no fighting time marching on, but I'm willing to try and make that BIMBO back off.

  13. Oh, let me at that BIMBO and I'll put her in her place. Like with Fran Drescher, in a locked room. Ha!

    I have one thing to say about the Estee Lauder comment. Tazorac, baby!

  14. LOL! You are an hilarious writer. I think your BIMBO must be drunk--and a mean drunk at that.

  15. Definitely something I need to work on. I tend to listen too much and now I have the Nanny's voice stuck in my head lol.

  16. ROFL! You, m'lady, have the gift. Great post. Now you have me thinking of acronyms for some of the entities over at my place. Ha!

    Thank you so much for your kind comment on the blog and that very nice tweet, Julie. I really appreciated the gestures!

  17. Hi, fellow campaigner visiting for the first time and laughing, a lot!

    I have apparently entered a lovely state called the 'pre-menopause' and am hoping to sweat my nagging BIMBO right out of my system.

    Will be popping by here, often :-)

  18. Your BIMBO and my fussy French chick should get together and have lunch - preferably with a side of cyanide. ;o)

  19. Ha! BIMBO...Truly laughing out loud at this! I have to decide not to listen to that sneaky imp, either. I drown him out with laughter - and sometimes with a glass of Cabernet....but that's another story. Ha!

    As for your body turning on you. Yeah...I'm feeling your pain. I happen to be going through some of those same symptoms. But I've decided to stop the madness...(or at least attempt to stop the madness) We've been conditioned to see youth as the end-all-be-all. What happened to seeing old age as respected, revered, and wisdom-housing wonderful?? I'm trying to 'age-gracefully' as my mother puts it. I'm not sure it's graceful in any sense of that word, but I am trying to laugh at it all in Erma Bombeck fashion.

    I will buy any creme, cosmetic, or elixir from a woman with a European accent.
    Erma Bombeck

    If you can't make it better, you can laugh at it.
    Erma Bombeck

    ~ Great seeing you again. ~ Nadja

  20. Hah! I mean, why wait for old age to implement the selective hearing? Start now!

  21. Would you like me to send one of my sex scenes your way? I've discovered I have too many. The more I edit the more I feel I have to. Your BIMBO is not so alien to me. Sometimes it'll tell me to quit and not stress myself out...but I love my story. And whoever said patience is a virtue was an idiot. Happy writing to you! :)

  22. loved your dialog! that bimbo was harsh!!
    she probably cant even read!

  23. Good for you for showing that inner monologue! :)

  24. Snooki wants her ms back. lol That made me snort. Black cohosh works wonders for hot flashes and mood swings. I call it sanity in a bottle. So does my husband. ;)

    Glad you're able to use some selective hearing. It comes in handy.

  25. At first, I thought you said your body was turning you on. Then I read the gas stuff, and the sore hands, and I had to go back and re-read your opener. I'm here to tell you, I endured a strange second or two while I wondered what the hell I was reading. :)

    Great post, Julie. I spend way too much time listening to my inner bimbo.

  26. Hey I've awarded you the Versatile Blog Award and the One Lovely Blog Award. Stop by and pick them up at

    I see you've already gotten the Versatile award so you can just grab the other one

  27. Haha! BIMBO! I love it, just brilliant the way your brought that together. Snooki called! haha, your BIMBO is full of one-liners. Thanks for making me laugh about my own inner BIMBO.

  28. Too funny!!
    like an inconvenient birthmark that sounds like Fran Drescher - Truly hilarious!

    Your BIMBO and my BIMBO could be twins!

  29. Funny stuff Julie--though I do feel for you.

    The kids here are helping the Mrs. not feel like she can get out of bed. The youngest accidentally head butted her and broke one of her teeth, and then she was helping the oldest with someone and fell off a chair smashing her shin.

    Moms do not have it easy.

  30. Paper bags? Bad Bitchy Inner Monologue Beast Outbreak! Don't be so mean to this blogger!!!

  31. What a conversation! I love the bit about your NY Times Bestseller grocery list! And that part about your Dad's selective hearing was a hoot!

  32. Brilliant Julie. That BIMBO can be a right bitch!
    Wait til yer knees go, then the fun starts :-)
    Hair,don't talk to me about unwanted hair - Salvador Dali signing out.

  33. Julie, just send BIMBO to the grocery store with that list and tell her (her?) that all that vodka is on sale.
    Fantastic, witty and amazingly engaging - I LOVE your style. I'm not listening to BIMBO, I want to read your book so hurry up and finish it already!

  34. Julie, I love your blog, you always make me laugh. You must smile all day, with such wittyness going through your head. Very funny!


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