mer: (Dark Tower)
Still living on the outskirts of Ann Arbor with my husband and his daughter, and I am 36. Kayla is now 16, and looking seriously at colleges and her future career path. At work, I'm in the midst of promotions, myself and people under me, and reorganization. It's the first real movement in my dayjob career in 5 years. However, in December 2009 I sold a novel, and have been waiting (and working) on it since then--my book comes out in September of this year. My mom has moved to Michigan (via the circuitous route of Montana then Seattle, Providence, San Francisco and LA). She's about 3 hours away now, which is the closest we've lived to each other since 1993.

Have moved to the outskirts of Ann Arbor with my boyfriend and his daughter. Kayla is in first grade, and we chose this small town turned bedroom community because of the excellent schools and the location. We almost moved another half hour down the highway for a cheaper house, but my boyfriend's father advised us that moving closer to work was worth a slightly more expensive house. (He turned out to be right.) I'm working at the University and have been since 1995. I have started taking classes again after a financial snafu forced me out of college in... 1995. I got promoted quickly to a pretty high level that I will not advance beyond for ten years.

Living with my mother in Durham, North Carolina; attending the new high school, and generally being an overworked-by-self 17-year-old. Choices, man, choices. My sense of youthful immortality wasn't manifested in the "do dangerous things" vein, but more in the "I can do EVERYTHING!" vein. Being run-down via overscheduling became a prominent theme of my life for some time. (I think this choice was a reaction to living a relatively quiet and secluded childhood; as soon as I obtained any degree of control over my own whereabouts and activities, I went crazy.) I spent a fair amount of time in those days hanging with my best friend, Chaitra, but we were drifting socially; I spent a lot of time with a wider social network that I felt less close to. I was co-editor of the school lit mag that year, and wrote and costumed and stage managed and acted for local children's theater, and babysat a LOT (three school evenings a week from 5-10PMish), and was taking AP classes, and, and, and.

Living with my mother in Sault Ste. Marie, Michigan. I was six. It was the first time we'd lived more than an hour away from my dad (my parents had been divorced for 2 years) or my grandparents. I was incredibly lonely, being so far from my bevy of adoring cousins and aunts and uncles; realizing that I only had my peers to socialize with regularly was sort of a nightmare. We were living in family housing at Lake Superior State, while my mom finished her bachelor's in nursing. I did enjoy the random collegiate adults Mom associated with. One of them held fondue parties and owned an Afghan dog. I am partial to fondue and Afghans to this day. I went with Mom to night classes on occasion, and began my love affair with college campuses, I think. It was my first time living in a college town, but I've never left college towns since, not really.
mer: (Default)
2004 )

2005 )

That's about all I can stand for now...
mer: (Awkward (Scrubs))
Ah, the passage of time. There is no simple meme that can cover a decade, at least, not a personal one. Because, seriously, when you're talking about a decade that spans such important years as age 24-34, how do you sum that up in "What song reminds you most of your mid-twenties to your mid-thirties?"


In the past decade, I have lost one parent and both maternal grandparents; gone back to college, and graduated; gotten married; written three books & started a writing career; quit my job to go back to college; gotten two other jobs; moved house; become a home-owner; traveled to some foreign countries; attended my first science fiction conventions; started and quit graduate school; driven halfway across the country and back; watched my stepdaughter grow from a saucy four-year-old into a saucy fourteen-year-old; visited something like 20 new states; learned at least one new language (well, for to read in, anyway); &c. I suspect some decades are not quite as jam-packed with such explicit changes, but I would be surprised that my list would be any shorter or less varied in 2019 as it is in 2009.

However. I have been writing online journal entries in one format or another since 1999, so I do, in fact, have a decade's worth of blog posts to look back on. The online archive prior to 2002/2003 is spotty; most of that stuff is happily offline. (And, having gone and looked at those early 1999-2000 entries, I'm really, really glad they aren't widely available.)

Anyway. My very first online entry began like this:

I used to write diaries, as a child, as though I were writing for an avidly interested public. As a teenager, I wrote things that to this day I would blush if anyone else read. (And often, upon rereading, I blush anyway.)

It was titled "The Alpha Entry" and I have apparently lost the metadata for it. But the entry clearly states that I am 25 in it, and there is a later entry nominating December for "The Worst Month of the Year 2000."

So, let's do it, shall we? The Retrospective Decade Journal Meme, as far back as you can go. Take either the first sentence or the most compelling paragraph from each month of each year of the decade (or whatever mix works best) and slap it down with the date. Comment on each entry--if you wish--or don't.

This is going to get long, and I'm probably going to spread it out over a couple of days

2000 )

2001 )

2002 )

2003 )
mer: (Default)
Seriously, after reading about [ profile] matociquala's caving adventure and watching a documentary on the Darien Gap and spending much of yesterday watching North & South and cleaning, I'm feeling a bit wanderlusty, which is at distinct odds with the weather, which makes me feel stayinsidey.

So, a meme, stolen from [ profile] vincam, originating somewhere in the vicinity of [ profile] autopope, customized by me.

* Age when I decided I wanted to be a writer:
Eleven, I think. Before that, I think I thought about it? But at 11, I really knew that was what I wanted.

and so on. )

Let's revisit that bad boy in ten years' time, let's say...

April 2015

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