Having spent an inordinate amount of my life in connection with school — going to endless amounts of school myself, preparing children for school, teaching school — it’s hard for me not to think of September as the real beginning of the year. (That stuff on January 1 is calendar business; you enter a new grade/class/year in September.) I even live in a university town!
So now that it’s really and truly September — yes, I can feel it in the air, and all the undergraduates are back — I decided to tidy up the blog again, in preparation for whatever may be coming out of me in the months ahead. Apart from the fifty “Writing Short” pieces I did this summer, there were two long pieces of memoir, each presented in parts, that were written in 2015 and are now rapidly receding into the WordPress archives.
I’ve therefore pulled them back up and made them into Pages, in the event you’d ever like to see either of them again all in one piece, as originally intended, or know someone who might be interested in reading memoir. The earlier-written one, “The Practice Boyfriend,” which first appeared in February, is now a Page called “Perry: A Memoir.” It runs nearly 12,000 words, so don’t tackle it unless you’re prepared for a (somewhat romantic) lengthy read. The more recent, “Losing Fifteen Pounds,” is now a nearly 7,000-word Page called “Getting to 128: A Memoir.” In case you’re wondering: I changed the titles so that WordPress doesn’t confuse posts with pages in doing its tabulations.
Now, what shall I do next? Any suggestions?
ON BEING OLD 
Nina, always liked your work-related posts. Also the getting old ones that I can relate to. There are way back childhood memories that always draw readers in. And not to forget other romances besides Perry! Something will spark a thought and there you’ll go typing away! Chryssa
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What with all the stuff I’ve made a point never to write about (see response to JMPod, below), I may be running out of real-life material that I’m willing to put out on the internet. As for work-related stuff — what’s left is the law, which may be an “ugh!” to many people. Ah, the romances: a number of ladies seem to like reading those. (Geriatric chick lit.) Have I given the impression there were so many? I was counting on my fingers to Bill the other day, and even including the husbands and Bill himself, I didn’t run out of fingers! Well, we’ll see. Thanks for the suggestions, though! 🙂
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Nina, I think aging gracefully is a great topic. With a little humor sprinkled in. Not quite the extreme “Maxine” though! Chryssa
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Chryssa, I think “aging gracefully” is something said about other people. It’s how it looks to the outsider, never how it feels to the person who’s aging. Besides someone’s already glommed onto your idea: check out “Aging Gracefully My Ass.” (Elyse is younger than I am though, so can be funnier about it.) “Maxine???” I guess I don’t watch enough television, or something…..
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Your mother remains a peripheral yet impactful character. More there?
Struggles in parenting – I assume you do not say much because your children are still alive and reading this blog. But I am so curious.
Any moments of great doubt or regret?
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The internet is dangerous, Janet, as well as interesting. What one puts out seems to survive for too long, and in often misleading ways, as you would discover if you posted under your real name and then looked yourself up from time to time. So although the “me” who appears in TGOB is not a made-up character, she is in many ways a construct, as so much is left out, not only from my history but from my day-to-day life and feelings.
That said, my mother — who is dead — remains a partially unwritten character in at least one unfinished story because she is painful to write about. Also the writing would have to be in the third person and objectified, so as not to sound whiny or complaining — which is hard. And certainly not material for an ephemeral blog post.
As for my two sons, they are 48 and 46, and yes, the younger one does “follow” the blog. (The older one may be a fly on the TGOB wall, but he never comments, online or in life, so I have no way of knowing. All the same, he has made it quite clear he would like to be left out of it; he fiercely protects his internet privacy, and not only from me.) In any event, I would never mention anyone who was ever close to me and is still alive except in a very casual way, or else so heavily disguised no one could ever guess.
So the only way you will hear about my struggles with parenting (or grandparenting, for that matter) is for us to meet, which is not geographically impossible, since we live in the same not very big state, but apparently not likely — given the rush-rush-rush of your days, as reflected in your blog. However, if you ever have a weekend day to come to Princeton without your own children, we could have lunch and I could gratify your curiosity.
Great doubts about how I raised the children? Or about my life? As I’ve remarked more than once in TGOB, we all do the best we can with what we’ve got to work with, so thinking about how it might have come out better, or differently, seems unrealistic. But regrets? Oh yes! I regret that I can’t have the past sixty-four years back to live them again with what I know now. Unfortunately, there’s nothing I can do about that either.
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Well, Nina, I feel, as in past blogs, the subjects will come
to you! One of the wonderful things about your writing is that it touches the experiences of most of us…so matters of loss, love, aging, regret, etc are so universal, and help all
readers make some sense out of our lives. How fortunate that you have the gift of writing and the ability to touch so many. I will look forward to whatever drifts into your
“pen” from the cosmos.
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Thank you so much, Rita.
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More opera?
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Ah dear Hilary, I have to attend an opera again before I blog about it. Yes, I did sign up for the full program of three at the Met (on the Westminster Choir College bus) this year, but the first one isn’t until December. Patience!
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