Twitter is down. That’s annoying.
To be honest, Twitter is the best part of my day (while my SO is out of state). Apparently it’s been down since 9am, which gives me little hope that it will be up again soon.
Well, seeing as I have oodles of time and no rampant, instantly self indulgent, way of filling up my day…
Last night, while cleaning up the apartment, I found an old notebook. Call me shocked when I realized it was a story I had worked on years ago. I know you will find this highly narcissistic, (then again you are reading my blog) but I had been working on an autobiography of sorts.
The first question (insult) that comes to mind when I type this is, “What are you doing writing an autobiography? You’re not even 30!” Yes, this is true, but, as I was writing the stories I could remember of my life, I found I talked more about my family then myself.
So far, I’ve centered on my parents, my brothers, and my aunts and uncles. As I wrote all these interesting factoids, from my father’s philandering to my relatives eccentricities, I was more interested in them than me. I found it interesting that one, all these people existed, and two, I was related to them. I know every family has their stories, so why shouldn’t I write about ours.
I imagine, once I’m done (though who ever is with such an expansive concept), I’ll pull things from this blog as well. So much has happened in the two years since I lost the notebook and found it again, the biggest of which was the loss of Ella.
I know I will need to include her, as well as Aunties and Uncles, but, truth be told, I imagined writing about the three of them as their own book. In fact, there is another notebook in my home office with their names on it and the opening lines already written. Like this lost example, I starting writing and then stopped to think about how I wanted to proceed.
I found myself last night muting the television (scandalous!) and picking up where I left off. I wrote about three pages (front and back). And it felt great.
I’m currently working my way through my mother’s siblings. She is one of eight, so it’s taking a while.
I’m not quite sure what the eventual book will be like, but I’m enjoying the experience of writing it.
Another little twist: I started this project right as my SO and I started our relationship. Talk about surreal, reading how we had a five hour conversation when we initially started “hanging out.” [I know that is the right term for what we did, but it seems so juvenile. People, we really need to come up with a more adult lingo for the adolescent feelings and experiences we still have to go through. Just a thought.]
I imagine the story of my family will be intertwined with the story of our relationship, if nothing else for the fact that when I start each new entry, I speak a little about my day. And my SO is such a part of my life, back then and now, I don’t know how you can’t keep it from permeating on the page.
Well, that helped, a little. Seriously, I’m sure they’ve already come up with a name for Twitter addiction. I may not know it, but it feels like I have it. Or maybe it’s just a learned impulse, since I’m on it all the time at work.
Oh well, gotta give up the dope sometime.
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