These are the thoughts and observations of me — a woman of a certain age. (Oh, my, God, I'm 65!) I'm single. I'm successful enough (independent, self supporting). I live just outside Chicago, the best city in the world. I'm an aunt and a friend. I feel that voices like mine are rather underrepresented online or in print. So here I am. If my musings resonate with you, please visit my blog again sometime.
Thursday, July 05, 2007
Do you know when it's your autumn, 1993?
I love this photo of Greg Maddux, ca. November 1993, because it shows someone who appears to be at the apex.
He's at home in Las Vegas, on the phone with Tom Glavine, his friend/Braves teammate/only real competition for the Cy Young award. Fortunately for the reporters assembled in what appears to be his kitchen, he soon received official notification that he did, indeed, win his second consecutive Cy Young. That's his very pregnant wife, Kathy, in the doorway. Their first daughter, Amanda Paige, was born in a few weeks.
Today Greg Maddux is a 320 game winning legend. But when this photo was taken, he was a phenomenon. He was playing on $30 million/3 year contract (huge for the time), and he had a couple more World Series appearances and Cy Young awards ahead of him. Summer of 2007, he's still making $10 million/season, but it's a one-year contract with San Diego. He's still with his high school sweetheart, Kathy, and they added a son to their clan. He seems to still love the game. I'm sure he's happy (I hope he's happy.) But it will never be November 1993 again.
Now that I'm old, I wonder, do you KNOW when it's your winter of 1993? Did he KNOW that this was as good as it was gonna get? Did he enjoy it fully? Ironically, I was very happy in November 1993, too. And no, I didn't appreciate it as much I should have.
Can't you feel them circling, honey? Can't you feel them schooling around?
Today my oldest friend asked me to help her figure out how the Thursday 13 works. One of her blogspot buddies recommended she investigate it, but the homepage confused her. I responded by rather desperately changing the subject. But the exchange left me feeling pissy, anxious, and sad.
First she asked me if I'd ever read a blog that yes, I've visited. Now this. She's getting closer to discovering this, my blog. My musings. And I don't want her to.
I like keeping this blog separate from my real life. I like having something that's mine exclusively. I don't want to share it with my oldest friend, or anyone else I "really" know.
When I have an issue with her, or my family, or a coworker, and I blog about it, I'm not trying to score points, and I certainly don't want to hurt anyone. I just want to have an outlet for my honest feelings and my real voice.
I use a nom de blog. I have never mentioned the name of my agency, nor of any clients I work with. The photos I've used here haven't even been my real cats! And that's because I want to maintain my anonymity and my privacy.
I don't think I've posted anything here that's so bad our friendship couldn't survive it. And yes, I could just go through and delete any posts that might rattle her. But dammit, that's not the point.
I want this to be my own!
I'm going to have to worry and stew and awfulize on this some more.
First she asked me if I'd ever read a blog that yes, I've visited. Now this. She's getting closer to discovering this, my blog. My musings. And I don't want her to.
I like keeping this blog separate from my real life. I like having something that's mine exclusively. I don't want to share it with my oldest friend, or anyone else I "really" know.
When I have an issue with her, or my family, or a coworker, and I blog about it, I'm not trying to score points, and I certainly don't want to hurt anyone. I just want to have an outlet for my honest feelings and my real voice.
I use a nom de blog. I have never mentioned the name of my agency, nor of any clients I work with. The photos I've used here haven't even been my real cats! And that's because I want to maintain my anonymity and my privacy.
I don't think I've posted anything here that's so bad our friendship couldn't survive it. And yes, I could just go through and delete any posts that might rattle her. But dammit, that's not the point.
I want this to be my own!
I'm going to have to worry and stew and awfulize on this some more.