Yesterday I had an almost computer free day and was going to have another today as it was fun. I dragged myself out of bed after sleeping two or three more hours than I should have; the few times a year I’m able to sleep the extra hours I have incredibly complex dreams.
This one was a noir mystery that took place on yachts, in beach penthouses and triple glass townhouses that could see the ocean from three sides and the bay from the over. Don’t ask me where; South Beach, Santa Monica/Venice, and San Diego are the American city beaches I’m most familiar with–well all of Miami Beach and South Florida. It was an interesting dream that I could never replicate on paper but might be able to capture the mood.
For some reason, a character: me, talked to another character, Dennis Quaid from Big Easy days, hey it’s my dream, about a blogger who talked about how ugly Wendy Wasserstein was a day after her death. Her death shook me, and I didn’t take to that well. But I made some kind of crack, in the dream, about Betty Friedan really being ugly. Yes, of course James Spader was in it; no it was Andrew McCarthy and I kept on trying to change them; or maybe Peter Gallagher or both. I don’t know. It was a damn dream.
Had some emails this morning; rather on the low side but good, I thought for Superbowl Sunday. The one from The Bastard with the article about Friedan’s death drew instant guilt. Gawd do I mean guilt. Who the hell am I to think about Friedan’s looks. Especially when she had just died, the inner conscience spewed.
Immediately volunteered to write something. My hippie aunt left home to find herself when her older daughter had just graduated high school, and her younger one still had a year to go. Had always idolized her and I couldn’t forgive her for that. My mother’s other sister worked while her second husband, my other uncle’s brother, painted, took care of the boys and cooked Chinese food. She was an anti-Semitic bitter bohemian. I was always the only person she liked in the family, and honestly didn’t know how to take that.
In Junior High I discovered John Updike and realized that my family was a Jewish John Updike story. I was glad we fit somewhere. And yes, Jews can be the biggest anti-Semites. We’re not a religious family, and my aunt passed for Christian before those questions became illegal. More jobs opened to her. That’s not why she was anti-Semitic; she honestly hated most Jews.
In much later years my mother used to blame our family’s total dysfunction on Betty Friedan. I wouldn’t let her, and argued her out of it, but sometimes I do wonder. Not that we’re a horrible family; we’re just more self centered than most. We expect the world to make room for us, not the opposite way.
So I wrote an essay for BIO about my family, changed it somewhat but kept it basically about me, moi, and my. Then I felt guilty and angry about that so I wrote a long angry preface.
This is a companion post; how I write a BIO post with no time, and no editor. I like editors; a good one understands and works with your vision and your words. A good editor gets excited when you’re on the right track and almost sad when you’re off it.
I’m better than most at not being redundant, but it always helps to have another person read your work. I’m very compulsive, in the real meaning of the word; I act on my obsessions. They’re harmless and generally consist of much writing in my blog.
My under grad major was Urban Studies. Being able to watch communities form in the blogosphere, first hand, is endlessly amazing to me. I connect to people and groups here very much the way I do in real life.
I feel awed to be a small part of this. A lot of people have said that my parent’s generation, the greatest generation were the last great communicators.
I so disagree. Blogging has given us a new way to communicate. But it doesn’t pay the bills and it feels like everybody is beginning to make money off blogging but bloggers.
I’m truly glad that IM Dedd came in first in humor at the BOB’s. Belinda should have come in first not third in “best new blog.” Belinda totally rocks. When I interviewed her for BIO she blew everybody’s knickers off.
Really should focus on my real life dreams because I’m not the center of the world, sad as it is to admit. Have to actually print things out and mess up my house even more than the computer boxes I have yet to put in my storage room. Have to focus, have to, have to, have to….