Also just me? My reading list. I don't publish the entire thing because, let's face it, we're all human and we just want to be liked. I surely don't want to be judged based on a book I'm reading. And no, I'm not reading any Nicholas Sparks. See how I just did what I don't like other people to do? My own worst enemy, I am.
It's a well-documented fact I have a love/hate relationship with my blog. I try to visit it only when I'm vacationing now. Sometimes some holiday memory will propel me toward the keyboard. The thing is, I like to write. I'm not particularly good at it, but it feels almost therapeutic to me. Until I hit 'publish'. Then the angst takes over and I want to go back and erase everything. Not save it to draft so I can revisit it. Delete it like I never thought it.
The neuroses works something like this... what if someone thinks I was the mean girl at Notre Dame Academy? It gains momentum. Is it okay to tell them I wasn't, or should I just leave well enough alone? Snowballing now. Can I tell them I was just like everyone else (which is more often than not what happens in small private schools, particularly ones with only boys or only girls)? (Read Skippy Dies.) Because after all, that's all you really wanted in the halls of Notre Dame. Weren't we dressed identically, right down to the same Bonnie Doon navy blue knee socks and Weejuns loafers? Yep, we were. Now it's 2 a.m. It just never ends.
Did I mention I'm staring at the ocean right now? It's hazy and the surf is crashing. I'm not sure what happened here last night but there's a big opened package of Pinwheels and I had nothing to do with it.
I read about Nora Ephron's funeral. I loved that she shared some of her favorite recipes in her "program". It made me remember this blog post. Can you imagine Nora telling Ina she had a better pound cake recipe? I think that's fantastic, which is why I will not part with that December, 2010 Town and Country Magazine with them both on the cover.
I wrote 'no segue' but there really was a segue. Over analyzing kept me up last night. I hate my blog, delete my blog, who do you think you are, anyway? Who cares what you think? Blah, blah, blah. Then I read an interview with Delia Ephron. About her sister she said, "Was there anyone in the world with more opinions?, " Delia said later, "The world is practically opinionless now." That slayed me.
So shoot me. Hopefully some day I will have the luxury of looking back at this narcissistic whatever this is and remembering the day I received the phone call letting me know my daughter had seizures that morning, the year Ruby came to join our family (how we love this little baby) and all that it entailed, the year they put $50,000 worth of hardware in my youngest daughter's spine . . . and anything else that happens to come our way. I want to remember the blessings, all the good and even some of the bad. This is, after all, life.
And just to prove the karma thing is real and how I really feel remembering the nicknames we had for those devoted nuns at Notre Dame Academy, take a gander...
Waddle. That neck reminds me of a nun I used to know.