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For some reason I thought about my FB challenge and remembered I had posted on it. OK, 2 years later, I thought I'd give an update.
No, I didn't complete my New Year's resolution. Not by a long shot.
Do you know what happened? This is true. I stopped because of that poster (3/11 at 20:50) who said I was selfish to use people's stories for my own needs and it was not right to be blogging about people without their knowledge. For some reason, it took the wind out of my sails for the project. Isn't it weird how just a little criticism by a stranger could have so much impact?
Maybe I'll start again.
No, I didn't complete my New Year's resolution. Not by a long shot.
Do you know what happened? This is true. I stopped because of that poster (3/11 at 20:50) who said I was selfish to use people's stories for my own needs and it was not right to be blogging about people without their knowledge. For some reason, it took the wind out of my sails for the project. Isn't it weird how just a little criticism by a stranger could have so much impact?
Maybe I'll start again.
Anonymous wrote:Have you ever considered that it is rude to call people just to blog about them? I would be pretty upset if you wrote about me or a friend sharing very personal details of their lives. You are using people for your own selfish needs. Please ask them if it is ok to post online before you do so.
I have thought about this, yes. So I haven't written about anyone from this area (or within hundreds of miles) and won't. And I have changed people's names and details and have tried not to give any details where anyone might be recognized by someone else (and I also have tried not to be hurtful). But I take your point.
Still I liked sharing this in some way, and I guess I do like to write.
Well, I realize I am just turning this thread into a blog. Which probably is annoying.
But just a check in, I'm chugging along, and so far I've only hit one person who clearly is NOT GOING TO GIVE ME HER NUMBER. I also think one guy may be dead.
Otherwise things are going pretty well.
But just a check in, I'm chugging along, and so far I've only hit one person who clearly is NOT GOING TO GIVE ME HER NUMBER. I also think one guy may be dead.
Otherwise things are going pretty well.
Anonymous wrote:"Jump", maybe you addressed this at some point, but did you have everyone's number (or was it publicized on Facebook) to begin with, or have you had to ask for a majority of people's numbers?
I have to ask for them all!
Going back in time can help you sort out the real from the imagined.
I spoke the other day with Teresa, a girl with whom I went to middle school. There were actually two sisters: Teresa and Olive. Teresa was the older. Both were in my grade, as a consequence of Olive having skipped a grade in elementary school. The two were very different though, with Teresa being a social leader, charismatic, a bit domineering, and Olive being quiet and studious and an all around sweet girl. It was only 2 years that we actually crossed paths. By my ninth grade, they had moved to one of the tony towns in my home state, where the girls finished at the public high school.
I remember so much about the girls and their family. To me, they were like the Gatsbys. They had this enormous Victorian house with expansive manicured lawns, a swimming pool, a tennis court. There were always dogs and cats running around the long pebbled driveway. One of them was a pitch black Saint Bernard named Tish. And there were always people -- aunts and uncles, grandparents and cousins. The house always had life.
One of things I remember was their wealth -- not just their big house, but the kinds of things that stuck out in the head of a 13 year old. I remember Teresa had a giant Hollywood style lighted mirror that took up an entire wall in her bedroom. Six people could sit along her vanity and do their makeup at the same time.
One time, Teresa and I were sitting on her front stairs around Christmas time. She was telling me how her Nanna got her anything she wanted. She said, "If I told my Nanna right now I needed more Levi's for Christmas, she would go out and get me 10 pairs for Christmas." That struck me as so amazing. Ten pairs of Levis. I only had one pair of Levis corduroys, and I used to wear them for almost all my play occasions out of school. It created in me an immediate sense of longing and envy. I sat there thinking, "Why do I have only one stinking pair of Levis?"
Of course, all of this is in the head of a 13 year old -- these imagined injustices and insecurities. Surely Nanna would NOT have gone out and gotten Teresa ten pairs of pants, and surely my wardrobe was completely sufficient for a girl who really needed few play clothes, being relegated every school day to a seersucker uniform.
Anyway, there I am speaking with Teresa again after so many years. We had a deep talk, about our family secrets and family triumphs, our memories of course, our appreciation for happy childhoods.
Anyway, in our relaying of memories, I told her this story about the pants. How much I envied her during that talk on the front stairs, because it seemed to me I had so few clothes, and indeed I think I only had one pair of Levis. And in an instant, Teresa replied, "The maroon ones, right?"
Sigh.
I spoke the other day with Teresa, a girl with whom I went to middle school. There were actually two sisters: Teresa and Olive. Teresa was the older. Both were in my grade, as a consequence of Olive having skipped a grade in elementary school. The two were very different though, with Teresa being a social leader, charismatic, a bit domineering, and Olive being quiet and studious and an all around sweet girl. It was only 2 years that we actually crossed paths. By my ninth grade, they had moved to one of the tony towns in my home state, where the girls finished at the public high school.
I remember so much about the girls and their family. To me, they were like the Gatsbys. They had this enormous Victorian house with expansive manicured lawns, a swimming pool, a tennis court. There were always dogs and cats running around the long pebbled driveway. One of them was a pitch black Saint Bernard named Tish. And there were always people -- aunts and uncles, grandparents and cousins. The house always had life.
One of things I remember was their wealth -- not just their big house, but the kinds of things that stuck out in the head of a 13 year old. I remember Teresa had a giant Hollywood style lighted mirror that took up an entire wall in her bedroom. Six people could sit along her vanity and do their makeup at the same time.
One time, Teresa and I were sitting on her front stairs around Christmas time. She was telling me how her Nanna got her anything she wanted. She said, "If I told my Nanna right now I needed more Levi's for Christmas, she would go out and get me 10 pairs for Christmas." That struck me as so amazing. Ten pairs of Levis. I only had one pair of Levis corduroys, and I used to wear them for almost all my play occasions out of school. It created in me an immediate sense of longing and envy. I sat there thinking, "Why do I have only one stinking pair of Levis?"
Of course, all of this is in the head of a 13 year old -- these imagined injustices and insecurities. Surely Nanna would NOT have gone out and gotten Teresa ten pairs of pants, and surely my wardrobe was completely sufficient for a girl who really needed few play clothes, being relegated every school day to a seersucker uniform.
Anyway, there I am speaking with Teresa again after so many years. We had a deep talk, about our family secrets and family triumphs, our memories of course, our appreciation for happy childhoods.
Anyway, in our relaying of memories, I told her this story about the pants. How much I envied her during that talk on the front stairs, because it seemed to me I had so few clothes, and indeed I think I only had one pair of Levis. And in an instant, Teresa replied, "The maroon ones, right?"
Sigh.
Yes. I AM changing names. But most of the people I'm talking about don't live here in the DC area.
Anyway, I've probably hit about 40 people so far. Of that, I'd say 20 have been people with whom I would probably not speak (definitely NOT speak) unless I had made this challenge to myself. Two months in, I guess my biggest take away is that people seem to really want to share the details of their lives with me, which I guess I find surprising. It's almost like they were waiting for someone to finally call them and ask "What have you been doing these last 30 years?" All I know is that I am continually amazed at the generosity of people to let me into their life story just because I asked.
Another take away is that it pays to tell people the weird memories you have of them. Sometimes they laugh about it but have no idea what you're talking about. Sometimes there is a deep story behind it. A few weeks ago I chatted with a woman who I haven't talked to or seen since I was 15. The extent of my 'knowledge' of her was pretty thin -- I remember she was always a little bit hifalutin, and I remember she was in my group (the group of kids who took all the same classes, because the school lobbed kids together by performance). But I also remember she always wore the seersucker skirt and blue sweater. Our uniform had other choices -- there were 3 different colors of seersucker dresses, and I remember there was a grey skirt option, but she always wore the blue seersucker skirt. Anyway, I mention that to her, and it turns out she always wore the same skirt because her uniforms burned up one year at the dry cleaner and she only had one skirt left. You couldn't reorder uniforms until the summer. All of a sudden, the mental image I had of her felt totally different. Poor thing having to go 6 months wearing the same skirt, and surely hoping no one noticed.
Then I mentioned to this guy I went to high school -- he was the class valedictorian -- I mentioned that I remember being outside once and singing that song, "My Baby Takes the Morning Train," and he kept correcting me because I didn't know the words. He didn't share this memory, but it was so nice to hear him laugh about the funny things I remembered about him. I'm sure for everybody, it is a real ego boost to know someone out there is still remembering odd little things about you 30 or 40 years later.
Anyway, I've probably hit about 40 people so far. Of that, I'd say 20 have been people with whom I would probably not speak (definitely NOT speak) unless I had made this challenge to myself. Two months in, I guess my biggest take away is that people seem to really want to share the details of their lives with me, which I guess I find surprising. It's almost like they were waiting for someone to finally call them and ask "What have you been doing these last 30 years?" All I know is that I am continually amazed at the generosity of people to let me into their life story just because I asked.
Another take away is that it pays to tell people the weird memories you have of them. Sometimes they laugh about it but have no idea what you're talking about. Sometimes there is a deep story behind it. A few weeks ago I chatted with a woman who I haven't talked to or seen since I was 15. The extent of my 'knowledge' of her was pretty thin -- I remember she was always a little bit hifalutin, and I remember she was in my group (the group of kids who took all the same classes, because the school lobbed kids together by performance). But I also remember she always wore the seersucker skirt and blue sweater. Our uniform had other choices -- there were 3 different colors of seersucker dresses, and I remember there was a grey skirt option, but she always wore the blue seersucker skirt. Anyway, I mention that to her, and it turns out she always wore the same skirt because her uniforms burned up one year at the dry cleaner and she only had one skirt left. You couldn't reorder uniforms until the summer. All of a sudden, the mental image I had of her felt totally different. Poor thing having to go 6 months wearing the same skirt, and surely hoping no one noticed.
Then I mentioned to this guy I went to high school -- he was the class valedictorian -- I mentioned that I remember being outside once and singing that song, "My Baby Takes the Morning Train," and he kept correcting me because I didn't know the words. He didn't share this memory, but it was so nice to hear him laugh about the funny things I remembered about him. I'm sure for everybody, it is a real ego boost to know someone out there is still remembering odd little things about you 30 or 40 years later.
Last week I talked with a guy with whom I worked 20 years ago. He lives in India now. Note to self: Before you call India make sure you have installed international roaming on your phone. Otherwise that one phone call will cost $108.
Anyway, this guy was super entrepreneurial. He was always coming up with ideas to make money. He wrote a few online manuals for computer programs and then sold direct to Amazon and had all his friends give the books five stars. Anyway, at some point I became involved with some of these pursuits. One of the ideas was to buy up a bunch of domain names that were still available and then try to resell them to businesses wanting a killer website name.
So together with 2 friends, we bought up about 15 domain names and waited for the money to roll in. Of course, all the REALLY good names like Books.com or Greateats.com were already taken. We definitely bought names a few tiers down -- findaroute.com, germanonline.com, collegesanduniversities.com, and so forth. Somehow in the thrill of the chase, we bought the domain name breastybeauties.com. Now, the minute we bought that I was filled with regret. I am in a line of work that simply does not correspond with a pornographic website name. So for the year we held onto these site names (undeveloped of course) I was constantly in fear that one of my colleagues was going to find out I was a closet flesh peddler. It was horrible. At the end of the year, when it came time to renew our 'leases', we had only sold one stupid site -- collegesanduniversities.com. I was just happy to dump them and get my name off whatever rolodex was charting porn site owners.
Anyway, I called him and I sort of thought this guy would be rolling in the dough. It was really shocking though. It turns out he gave up his high paying job and went back to India to take care of his aging parents, and he never really thought about money again. He just got a regular old job to be near his parents and take care of them. He lives a simple life. He cares about simple things like having fresh air and trees around him, and helping others when he can. So that goes to show how much a person can change in 20 years.
Hopefully, if someone looks back to some of the things I was doing 20 years ago, they will think I've changed too.
Anyway, this guy was super entrepreneurial. He was always coming up with ideas to make money. He wrote a few online manuals for computer programs and then sold direct to Amazon and had all his friends give the books five stars. Anyway, at some point I became involved with some of these pursuits. One of the ideas was to buy up a bunch of domain names that were still available and then try to resell them to businesses wanting a killer website name.
So together with 2 friends, we bought up about 15 domain names and waited for the money to roll in. Of course, all the REALLY good names like Books.com or Greateats.com were already taken. We definitely bought names a few tiers down -- findaroute.com, germanonline.com, collegesanduniversities.com, and so forth. Somehow in the thrill of the chase, we bought the domain name breastybeauties.com. Now, the minute we bought that I was filled with regret. I am in a line of work that simply does not correspond with a pornographic website name. So for the year we held onto these site names (undeveloped of course) I was constantly in fear that one of my colleagues was going to find out I was a closet flesh peddler. It was horrible. At the end of the year, when it came time to renew our 'leases', we had only sold one stupid site -- collegesanduniversities.com. I was just happy to dump them and get my name off whatever rolodex was charting porn site owners.
Anyway, I called him and I sort of thought this guy would be rolling in the dough. It was really shocking though. It turns out he gave up his high paying job and went back to India to take care of his aging parents, and he never really thought about money again. He just got a regular old job to be near his parents and take care of them. He lives a simple life. He cares about simple things like having fresh air and trees around him, and helping others when he can. So that goes to show how much a person can change in 20 years.
Hopefully, if someone looks back to some of the things I was doing 20 years ago, they will think I've changed too.
Sounds like Casino.
EVERYBODY! CALM DOWN!
Let's just start from the beginning. Start with the boots and when you put them on that morning. Take us back to that moment and tell us everything you can remember from that day.
Let's just start from the beginning. Start with the boots and when you put them on that morning. Take us back to that moment and tell us everything you can remember from that day.
I'm back. I fed off my inventory for the last couple weeks. Best friend. check. Ex husband. check. Office workers. check.
Finally, last night I called this guy Dan with whom I went to acting school in the 1980s. I did need to finally cross some men off the list (besides my ex husband) and Dan fit the bill. First he was gay. I think I mentioned these conversations with married men with whom I had not spoken in 30 years were likely to be VERY UNCOMFORTABLE. Second he HAD given me his number back in January and seemed enthusiastic to talk. He suggested March, but of course last night I tell myself, "Oh, why wait until March?" So I call.
Dan starts sobbing saying this really isn't a good time to talk. He just found out his cat has cancer. Immediately, I am thrown into this awkward space of apologizing and sending sympathies to Dan about his cat, when I haven't talked with Dan in 30 years. And it is awkward for him too. He finds himself on the phone with someone he is ABSOLUTELY NOT CLOSE WITH AND NEVER HAS BEEN, and he just wants to get off and I'm there talking about my three cats, and I understand how horrible this is, blah blah blah. I'm an idiot.
Thankfully this morning I had a nice talk today with a girl I went to elementary school through high school, Laura. Haven't seen her since high school, haven't talked with her I would say since we were 10. We chatted for 40 minutes about our lives. And we talked deeply -- about our failures, our passions, our transformations. I am sure we never had a long conversation before -- not ever. Somehow that didn't matter. It didn't matter that we really never WERE friends. We were people who had common touchstones. 6th grade. Band practice. The hair salon we all went to in the mall. And some common friends who she stayed in touch with (and I let drift completely out of my life). Somehow that was enough of a base to drift on and on about hopes and dreams not realized and joys immeasurable.
I guess it's the age. We both reverted to thoughts about living life to its fullest, not letting the grass grow under your feet, finally realizing that ultimately life is not a competition. It is a short time where you get to love and live and appreciate and grow. And during that time you are going to face the tragedies of loss: friends, parents, sometimes children even. And don't forget cats with cancer.
Finally, last night I called this guy Dan with whom I went to acting school in the 1980s. I did need to finally cross some men off the list (besides my ex husband) and Dan fit the bill. First he was gay. I think I mentioned these conversations with married men with whom I had not spoken in 30 years were likely to be VERY UNCOMFORTABLE. Second he HAD given me his number back in January and seemed enthusiastic to talk. He suggested March, but of course last night I tell myself, "Oh, why wait until March?" So I call.
Dan starts sobbing saying this really isn't a good time to talk. He just found out his cat has cancer. Immediately, I am thrown into this awkward space of apologizing and sending sympathies to Dan about his cat, when I haven't talked with Dan in 30 years. And it is awkward for him too. He finds himself on the phone with someone he is ABSOLUTELY NOT CLOSE WITH AND NEVER HAS BEEN, and he just wants to get off and I'm there talking about my three cats, and I understand how horrible this is, blah blah blah. I'm an idiot.
Thankfully this morning I had a nice talk today with a girl I went to elementary school through high school, Laura. Haven't seen her since high school, haven't talked with her I would say since we were 10. We chatted for 40 minutes about our lives. And we talked deeply -- about our failures, our passions, our transformations. I am sure we never had a long conversation before -- not ever. Somehow that didn't matter. It didn't matter that we really never WERE friends. We were people who had common touchstones. 6th grade. Band practice. The hair salon we all went to in the mall. And some common friends who she stayed in touch with (and I let drift completely out of my life). Somehow that was enough of a base to drift on and on about hopes and dreams not realized and joys immeasurable.
I guess it's the age. We both reverted to thoughts about living life to its fullest, not letting the grass grow under your feet, finally realizing that ultimately life is not a competition. It is a short time where you get to love and live and appreciate and grow. And during that time you are going to face the tragedies of loss: friends, parents, sometimes children even. And don't forget cats with cancer.
Okay, I'm not sure exactly if this is under my new name JUMP. Well I am glad I didn't pick the name TECH SAVVY.