Everything old
I believe in fresh starts, clean slates. As such, I’m starting at least this tiny recording of my life over. I’m not kidding myself about the wear on the record or even the ragged edge of the stylus. I expect to warble, slide, and skip.
Over the past few weeks, events occurred and decisions were made that have opened my eyes to just how out of focus I’ve become. Part of that blur, I think, may result from the lack of words in my life. If you know that I edit things for my job, then that might not entirely make sense. But it’s not just words that I’m missing; I’m missing my words.
So I’m going to write again and teach and learn, but I want to do it differently.
Like every American soul my age, I find myself referencing Say Anything more often than I should (even if it is just mentally--or in conversation with my husband, which is very similar). Nevertheless, I’ll embrace my inner trite and use the words of the inimitable Lloyd Dobler to explain why I chose to take down the words of the last few years:
"Maybe I didn't really know you. Maybe you were just a mirage. Maybe the world is full of food and sex and spectacle and we're all just hurling towards an apocalypse, in which case it's not your fault. I'm been thinking about all these things and . . . you're probably standing there monitoring. And one more thing--about the letter. Nuke it. Flame it. Destroy it. It hurts me to know it's out there. Later."