You’ve made this a pretty easy transition into the blogosphere, and I so appreciate your supportive, encouraging emails and comments. Even though I thought I’d have no time to blog, I’ve probably blogged a bit too much! I’ll calm down, I promise.
Here’s an interesting update on my “signs” post from Friday. I came home from work on Friday eve and skimmed my People magazine. In the book section, they do a “What They’re Reading” feature with celebrities.
Nine years today. Gosh. That’s almost a full decade! And even so, I don’t think I’ve fully processed that day, how it changed the city and our whole country, the world. But I won’t go on and on about it. You know.
I took a writing seminar this summer on memoir. I’ve always liked family stories, and I haven’t taken a true writing class since I was 12. I thought it would push me but also give me some structure on how to put personal stories together into some sort of narrative. In class, our moderator would read a poem or story and ask us to choose a phrase from it that spoke to us. Then we’d have 10 minutes to write, in longhand, without stopping. She stressed the not stopping – even if you had to write, “This is stupid and I have nothing to say and I can’t think of anything and I hate this class,” etc. for the full time. She assured us that eventually the exercise would take us somewhere surprising.
Indeed.
Many of you know my “Eat Pray Love” story.
I have a habit of ignoring all signs that point me in a certain direction until they become so numerous that I say in exasperation, “Okay, fine!”
In the summer of 2007, I was fed up with my job, my city, life in general. Someone I know had read a little book called Eat Pray Love and raved about it … then Oprah did a show on it … I saw an online ad on Facebook … there was a review in People. It was the beach read of the year. I’m sure I was thinking, “yeah, interesting,” but I went about my business.
Then one day I was shopping in the Barnes & Noble on 66th Street. I don’t even remember what I was buying, but I was in a hurry. As I made my way up to the checkout line, I turned around … and there was a full-wall display of Eat Pray Love.
Okay, fine.
Here’s what I’m obsessed with this week:
“The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo” by Stieg Larsson.
I’m sure you’ve heard about it – it’s quite the rage right now … well, maybe I’m a little late to the game. A coworker lent it to me, and I nonchalantly stuck it in my bag to Australia. I think I read about 4 pages during my 40+ hours on planes during the week. But then I picked it up one night and haven’t been able to put it down.
I started school this week. Ugh. For those of you keeping track, that’s six semesters down, four (?) to go.
As you can see in my previous post, I made good use of my summer vacation, though I lost that extra week in a jet-lag fog. I wasn’t ready at all to go back, but my first class this semester wasn’t such a slap in the face as most. The term is still young, though.
I’ll be struggling through finance this time, and we all know I haven’t a head for numbers. It will be quite interesting … so friends and family should beware my mental state during all interactions. My friend A is determined to implement a post-class drinking club once a week, so that should soften the blow.
Ah, Sydney.
I’ve just returned from a weeklong trip on the other side of the world. (Well, I actually returned last week, but the jet lag hit me so hard on Monday that it wasn’t until yesterday, Saturday, that I felt normal again).
C* and I took off for a glorious 24 hours in L.A. full of glitz, glamour, fame and Sprinkles cupcakes. Then we hopped aboard the largest plane I have ever seen (double-decker A-380) for a 15-hour jaunt over open ocean. You can get through anything with enough Xanax and Sauvignon Blanc, I tell you. Truth said, it was an easy flight – we watched movies, ate every three hours and actually slept. Bravo, Qantas!
I’ve started a blog.
I really never thought I’d say that. I’ve been very anti-blog for a long time, considering it a quite self-indulgent exercise and pretty narcissistic to think anyone cares what I’d have to say.
But then I took a class this summer called “Creative Connections,” which allowed – even encouraged – me to explore different creative outlets. Our first class was a writing workshop that made me write something different than a news article or a press release for the first time in, oh, 15 years. I took more writing classes, and read books by writers about their craft. Both Anne Lamott and Brenda Ueland told me it was necessary … if it’s in me, I need to write, and what I have to say really is unique and interesting. Heck, everyone has something unique and interesting to say.
Okay, okay.
South & Sundry 