I am reading Katie Roiphe's In Praise of Messy Lives. I thought I didn't like her. Now I think I do.
I know the way lives, like kitchens and bedrooms and hair and makeup, can get messed up.
(Not the Delaunay kitchen. Ours is messier. And no marble -- not even faux -- anywhere.)
If any of you Readers has a life more messed up than mine I will give you a high five and maybe a gig as guest blogger here at The Nickel. Just let me know.
I think I'm willing to take you up on the messier life! I'm looking forward to the high five and the guest spot on your blog. Here's the first (very short) chapter of my memoir:
ReplyDelete“Mom,” I asked, “Are we poor white trash or just poor?”
She replied in her resigned and defeated tone, “Don’t ask, honey, you don’t want to know.”
I got my answer.
I attended fourteen elementary schools. I never saw a Christmas tree two years in a row in the same house until I turned twenty-six years old. My father married nine times. My mother married four times. They married each other three times. They couldn’t make the relationship work but they couldn’t stop loving each other. I have married five times. My first husband died of complications of multiple sclerosis from exposure to Agent Orange in Vietnam. My second husband died of lung cancer. I married the third and fourth times as ill-considered stabs at finding myself and my place in the world. My current and last husband, my incarnate blessing, treasures the richness of our life together as I do. When I first put all of this together years ago, I showed them to my Mom. Annoyed I had put them on paper, she replied in a flat tone, “Yeah, so what?”
Oh, wow. A fellow messy traveler. What a compelling opening to your memoir! Yes, you are a strong contender for the guest post! Thanks for sharing, Bren...let's see if anyone else is brave enough to come forth in messiness! Cheers, Anna
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