August 13

I miss Juan, but not as much as last night.

1965 (Camp Maria Pratt, Connecticut)

Mom and Dad didn't come. Too bad. It was real nice. All the time we were dancing I just couldn't wait to go home, but I was crying during the ceremony. I want to come back next year. Hope I can.

Comment 2023

Next year you’re going to MEXICO!!!!

1966 (Laredo, TX)

We are still at the Hamilton, will stay for two days.

I wrote a letter to Juan, now have to get up the nerve to mail it. It’s full of “I love you”s, but I mean every one. 

Went shopping today. I got material and a pattern, some placemats, a wallet and some head bands. $15.52. Eek.

I miss Juan,, but not as much as last night.

BOY is it hot.

1984

It’s been one of those days. We are waiting for the movers to call. There is so much still to do. And yet.

I’m BORED.

BORED! How can I be bored when I have a thundering pile of work avalanching down me? How, indeed? Kiddo plays by herself most of the day now, just touching base now and then. Theoretically, I should have lots of time. And I do. But to do what? I could fill up the page with things to do. The list is infinite. Most of it is BORING. And here’s the kicker: most of the things I have to do are things I have VOLUNTEERED to do.

But it is a muggy, rainy summer day and I guess it is OK if it’s a little draggy and only semi-productive. It’s interesting how having a lazy day didn’t bother me until about ten years ago. Graduate school ruined my ability to stop and smell the roses, I swear.

1997

The main challenge I will face this fall is getting Kiddo 1 to school smoothly, since she won’t be taking the bus. Need to get up early and factor in extra driving. I can incorporate a workout at Greenbelt Community Center as part of the run. 

2013

It’s not that I let dad’s birthday slip by. It dawned on me several times yesterday that he would have been 91 had he lived. I wonder how long he would have lived if he hadn’t smoked. He died 4 months after his 73rd birthday. So many ideas swirl in my head. That is 20 years older than I am now. Do I have 20 more years? More? Less? What would I do if it was just 20 days? I would tell and show Jim I love him every day. Yes, the kids, too. But what about my to-do list? Hah.

2015

Only two more sunsets, two more sunrises, and one more full day here on Star Island. I must say I have almost completely lost interest in the IRAS conference, after a great start. I have not been mansplained so much in a long, long time. I have attended all the major talks and they were all fabulous. But hanging in for all the discussions and the afternoon and evening papers is just too much. Never again will I come to this beautiful place for such an event. Here I am, sitting in the summer house, trying to soak up all the sights, sounds, and smells for the entire year. No, never again.

And in the meantime, the gender thing is still dogging me, with Target announcing elimination of their gendered categories for toys. The usual folks on the Right are losing their ever lovin’ minds. So here I sit on a remote island, still getting requests for interviews. Three in all: Washington Post, WNYC, WAMU. How can I move on to aging and ageism if they keep wanting to ask about pink and blue? Can’t they just read the book?????

Comment 2023

No, 2015 Jo, they can’t. You were only a journalism major for three semesters, but surely you remember that reporters can’t just quote a few paragraphs from a book. They need to interview the author. So suck it up, buttercup. And be pleasant. (She says, still getting over the four interviews in one week about the Barbie movie.)

2017

Yesterday was good. Some good thinking and writing, a visit with Katie, a fun movie (Jab We Met), and a generally solid day.  This morning I took a shower, which felt wonderful. Next is church. Between shower and church, some play, some reading, and this Tarot reading:

High Priestess

I need to collect and own my power, the wisdom of my years, without losing the humility of ignorance.

And yes, I think that’s it. “Gathering my power, being ready” means coming to terms with issues of health, aging, and death.

2022

Quick trip to New York City with friend Carol. Staying in a {free} apartment on Park Avenue owned by the Community Church of NY. Very spare, but the location is great and the view is fabulous. I can get my morning coffee at a Dunkin’ on one corner or a Starbucks on another. Hey! It’s New York!

We arrived at Penn Station and headed to the taxi stand. Ran into a Costume Society acquaintance in line ahead of us. Light dinner and a pilsner at the Park Avenue Tavern.

2023

If all goes well, we just have two more days of quarantine. I am down to just one knitting project again; I prefer to have at least two going at once so I can switch between them. Each pattern puts different stress on my fingers, hands, and even my shoulders, so switching helps avoid repetitive stress injuries. (I had a nasty bout of knitting-related bursitis in my left shoulder a couple  of years ago when I was working on a big project on small needles.) I also need at least one mindless project (for when I am watching TV or a movie) and a more complex (less boring) project for when I am listening to music. Now you know all of my knitting secrets.

Yesterday I dug out all ( and I do mean ALL) of the drafts, notes, and detritus from the first chapter of the book I am not longer writing to see what can be salvaged. The results may pop up in Gender Mystique, and resurface in one of the essays I AM writing that may or may not be in a book. I also watched one of the four (!!) available adaptations of The Comedy of Errors made in India.

2024

I woke up to an empty apartment. A few minutes later I got a text from Jim.

“I could fill up the page with things to do. The list is infinite. Most of it is BORING. And here’s the kicker: most of the things I have to do are things I have VOLUNTEERED to do.“

This is still true.