Last Nights of Summer, Last Days of Both Hands

1 08 2010

So I have three nights left of summer. And tonight, I’m watching Something’s Gotta Give while I decoupage my autobiography box (a model for my students). And, well, I forgot how wonderful and hopeful and kind of gross it is to see these two old people fall in love like a pair of bipolar teenagers. Diane Keaton is totally neurotic and she cries all of the time in this movie, which makes her look like a turtle. But I’m enjoying myself immensely because it’s cheesy and predictable.  Plus it makes me less anxious about getting old.

This has been the summer of movies and books for me and my brain has taken a turn for the worse because of it I’m sure. I read The Help in a day and Ruthie and I have seen almost all of the “family” movies in the RedBox. I check in with the Facebook regularly. And with Twitter. I can barely muster the mental energy to fill the world in on what I’m doing in 140 characters or less. So I’ve decided it’s really time for me to really start writing. For the past seven years, I’ve called myself a writer, but I’m always waiting to be inspired (whisper this word as you read it, please) to write. I’ve compared writing to exercise before and that metaphor certainly holds here, because who is motivated to exercise in the beginning? Certainly not me. Writing and exercising were two things I swore I’d do this summer and I’ve done very little of either.

So. Intoxicated by the start of a new school year, which means (GASP!) new school supplies, I’ve taken on a little project where I’ll be writing every single day for a year. It’s a new blog because, in a very Oprah-ish way, I’ve become a new me. I hope. I’ve started writing today, but I’m not going to post the link here. Not yet. But if you’re interested in reading, email me and I’ll send you the link. Wish me luck!

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