The amazing Cooper had a five things meme. She tagged anybody who commented. I will tag anybody who feels like doing this.
1 In the interest of blog security I somehow deleted my own blog tool bar. I got it back with one click after countless seconds of wondering.
2 I would like to have a book published before I can cash in my IRA without a penalty.
3 I could have f
or sure, definitely, probably possibly maybe have been in The New York Times today in an article on bloggers interviewing authors. I rejected that interview because the book is called The Late Bloomers Revolution. Late blooming meaning in the 30’s. if the 30’s is late blooming than I’m___? Society is supposed to be going through an ageing revolution. Am I supposed to sit around and make lace doilies?
Am I being offensive for saying this? I do like shaking things up.
I know that it’s not sportsman-like, bad karma and more to say what I said above. But damn I’m not ready for the Mick Jagger Home For Wayward People 40+. Neither are any of my friends. If this ruins my karma then it wasn’t real anyway. It’s sad to equate late blooming to 30something when many people now don’t move out of the parental nest until….Isn’t it considered hip to change careers later in life? Here in New York, many people begin searching for a new career in our 40’s and 50’s, simply because retirement is a nice fantasy. Most people do enjoy being productive no matter what age.
That all said, I would interview any blogger who has a book published even if we don’t happen to get along, or the book praises Bin Laden–well maybe not him, and I have spoken to enough Holocaust revisionists when I was a political blogger to know that they’re just pure scum.
4 I really don’t feel too old to be a first time book author. I do believe that it’s what it you have to say and how you say it, that makes a book interesting. Today one of my new found friends from Jr/Sr High called me our community’s first hippie. We were late bloomers in that respect. I spent my non-school time in the city, where hippies were yesterday’s news.
My book is about being seventeen, reaching for the stars, and learning….
5 I will have an interview next week at Blog Critics with Jancee Dunn. because I couldn’t resist doing an interview with a reporter for Rolling Stone with a book called But enough about me
6 I listen to people partying in the courtyard and wish I weren’t home alone. It’s my first night in weeks I’m not out or have company and I thought it would be wonderful. But I skipped one of my closest friend’s barbecues because I Stumbled from late night to early morning trying to do blog things. This is a pure writing blog. I no longer care about or want to do bloggy things. That was just reflex. If you’re going to give me an award, thanks, but if you want me to put it in, I need code.
I don’t care about the things a blogger is supposed to these days. I care about the Jena 6. I care about becoming the best person I can be. I care passionately about the quality of my writing. I care about the minutia of life.
I am all written out about the things I care about. That’s why I turned to fiction. It lets me tell stories without repeating myself. It frees me and makes me want to write, not in this blog
I was blog obsessed. That began to change about eighteen months ago when I deleted a comment. I sent the guy an email telling him why. He asked who am to do such a thing, and included his Technorati ranking an incredible 3500something. I have an absolute right to delete any comment I want to. But I thought–ha, two can play at this game. I sent him an email back with my ranking–a 2800something. That’s who I am, I said. As I wrote it I laughed at the absurdity of it all.
My real life friends still wouldn’t know much about a blog if I hadn’t begun one. They delighted in teasing me about it–Ms Perfect Technorati as nobody in the real world cared or understood then. I have a close blogging friend who is convinced I have my lowest numbers embedded in diamonds. Don’t even have a screenshot.
Honestly I stopped caring about the game then. I virtually began this blog at the top. I always knew it had nowhere to go but down. Blogging’s a living organism. There are always new blog, or bloggers willing to devote eighteen hours a day/seven days a week. Once I was one of them….
I had my blog redesigned so that few things show on the home page. I went through and came out of a personal crisis. The deep 9/11/dead mother annual crazed month or two is over. I have finally learned acceptance.
I came to understand that I shoulder some of the responsibility and that until I owned up to it, I couldn’t heal
Something else happened. As I truly began to understand what my problems are they stopped mattering. They hadn’t mattered most of my adult life. Funny how they began to resurface as I was earning a grad degree in Social Work. My schooling should have empowered me. It did the opposite.
Again I shoulder much of the blame. I have had an extremely fortunate life. It’s enabled me to have a money losing blog.
Coming to understand myself allowed me to begin to really write as I never have before. I didn’t want to take a workshop as they tend to screw me up. But I needed somebody to help. One day it hit me, The Wombat Wow was I right. He will take a paragraph I wrote and ask a question or two, or sometimes just highlight it, and I will turn it into dialogue that actually works.
I need to be consumed by this book as I was by blogging. A ranking system would help, but I’m afraid the only one is that of agents and publishing people. I’m actually looking forward to the process. I will be in North Myrtle for most of September. My gmail notifier will be turned off most hours.
People say “have fun on your vacation.” I no longer know what a pure vacation is. But I will soon enough. I do have fun. Love me a townhouse with a steep staircase near the beach something fierce. Love the beach. Love blasting the radio and yeah dancing to shag music.
This is my version of fun. And uh, I kind of ended my semi-recluse stage not with a whimper….I so needed this summer of intense socialization.
Summer’s over, though I will be at the beach. It’s time to work, fast hard and furious. The work I have been doing these last six months. I like it. And I never like my own writing.
This was the year I learned what real happiness is. It’s that feeling of liking yourself, for you, just you. And being able to share it. It’s purging yourself of discontent.
The downside was I stopped being driven to succeed. The upside was I found I could accomplish more in less time because, I just could.
Being internally calm is something I have never felt before. I was talking with some friends, my age, and one brought that up. It’s not that life is problem free. Far, far from that. We have dealt with some variation of the problem before. We’re here to talk about it. We like our 50’s much more than our 40’s though it was so easy to look great.
Maybe there are three late blooming stages in life: 30something, 50s and perhaps the 80’s. My generation has to change the rules. We have no choice. The money we saved thinking it would be enough, and the money we’re continuing to save, the money that was going to be for life’s luxuries might have to go to everyday expenses. And many people my age have little savings.
You will be hearing from us. We can’t go silently. Nor do we want to.