On drama, solipsism, kindness, and ridiculous dreams

There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you. ~Maya Angelou

Back in the day, I had lots of drama to share with my five or so regular readers. It was young person drama to be sure, but I felt like it was my duty to provide it and to entertain those who’d come to be entertained. Granted, I was performing my show for a very small audience, but they were women of uncommon smarts and valor, and I could rely on them to be with me through thick and thin, and to always be ready with a listening ear and an occasional piece of terrific and hard-won wisdom. Continue reading “On drama, solipsism, kindness, and ridiculous dreams”

The Drama

I think it to myself sometimes: wouldn’t it be amazing to go back to high school and know what I know now? The mom of the senior I photographed the other day said it out of the blue and I could only smile and agree. Her kid, meanwhile, looked at us like we were both crazy old people who’d forgotten what it was like to actually be in high school. Continue reading “The Drama”

Note to all sub-par, twenty-something college students: you suck and I hate you.

There are things in my life about which I am ridiculously Type A.  School is one of them. For example, I was commiserating briefly with Hubby about the non-traditional student life this morning. He was saying that he could never be a teacher because the students would frustrate him too much. I had to concur, even though I still occasionally think that I might like to try on the teaching cap one day. Continue reading “Note to all sub-par, twenty-something college students: you suck and I hate you.”

Coming out

A few days ago, I spent some time feeling homesick for the interwebs of my misspent youth and for the people I met there.  At least a fraction of what I missed about those days (and that place) was the extent to which everyone had a sort of instant audience for the things they were writing.  Recently updated journals would pop up on the main page feed; there was a running list every time you’d log in.  There were thousands of journals, but after awhile, you “knew” the ones Continue reading “Coming out”