January 7

Being unknown is totally unrelated to being worth knowing.

1965

I'll bet I flunked or almost flunked my Spanish test. I didn't study and I know it. Also, I was pressed for time. I'm always the last one done. We had a Geometry quiz and I did very well, I think. It's about time!

I didn't have music class! Yippee. A reprieve! We went shopping instead. I got a dress pattern and some cool material, too. I also got "Willow Weep for Me". Bob got "I Feel Fine". He can have it. b/w "She's a Woman".

Comment 2006

The music class I was so happy to escape was an enrichment course at a local private school, Wykeham Rise. It was some sort of arts outreach program for the local riff-raff, and my older brother and I both went there once a week after school. Bob was taking drama and I was one of two students taking music. By January, I was getting tired of the weekly performance stress -- having to play piano or recorder in front of my teacher. The drive to and from WR with Bob, on the other hand, was hilarious, as he entertained me with caustic imitations of our teachers.

"Willow, Weep for Me" was a cover of an old ballad by a British pop duo, Chad and Jeremy. I was much taken with them -- especially Chad Stuart, the one with the glasses. Clearly, I was less fond of the Beatles' latest, especially Ringo's utterly boring "She's a Woman".

Comment 2023

I seldom “flunked” a test, much less in Spanish, which was my best subject. I was saving my failures for Physics, which took my senior year. But I seldom studied for anything until I went to college. In truth, high school was a huge snooze except for gym, friends, and sock hops.

My musical tastes have changed in ways 15-year-old Jo would find baffling. My most recent purchase was an album of early Sephardic music. My favorite playlists are Bollywood, Celtic, and various blues women. While my husband, our son, and his girlfriend were away untrimming the church sanctuary today, I took our decorations down while watching a South Indian movie on Netflix. There is very little that I did as a teenager that I still enjoy, even playing the piano, which I used to do by the hour. The truth is that when I read this diary, I connect with the emotions, but in a weird detached way. I remember how I felt, but no longer share those feelings. Was that really me? Seems impossible.

1982

Yesterday I tricked myself with a very clever ploy. Instead of going to the department office after I got settled in my office, I went right to the typewriter and typed the rough draft of the encyclopedia article. A bit at a time…they didn’t give me a deadline. I only stopped when I ran out of typewriter ribbon. Why doesn’t my office mate ever replace the ribbon?

Jim felt the baby kick last night.

1983

I did my annual review today and realized it had been a very good year, a very productive year, despite the disruption in my schedule. What a heartless way to describe a year of pregnancy and parenthood! But it has been a disruption, in addition to a marvel and delight.

Last year my “accomplishment” list ran to 1 page. This year it’s two. I still need to write more. The current problem is that I have too many unfinished projects hovering around. There’s men’s clothing, boys’ clothing, and the history of home economics at Maryland. I should also be working on the Textile Museum library computerization project and the eagle coverlet research with Clarita.

I get very tired and discouraged now and then. If I didn’t keep track of my life in this journal, I’d get lost. It’s too easy to feel that I’m standing still, when every year I grew a bit. I like the person I am becoming.

1985

It’s been a good break. We’ve done a lot of fun things, and I’ve accomplished a few important things. No bitty things, no trivia, so those are piling up. Just the book outline and one article. Today I go house hunting with Jaclyn. Hope I get enlightened.

1997

What makes me happy? Lively conversation. An unhurried start to my day. A small warm buddy in my lap. (Little kids are the best, but a beagle will do.) Perfect ripe avocado.

1998

Affirmations and blurts - - here goes:

“I am a very insightful and brilliant researcher.” [Written twelve times]

Blurts and responses:

Who doesn’t do any research anymore.

Who has channeled her creativity into teaching when faced with a traumatic career change.

Also an insipid writer.

If by “insipid” you mean you write in plain English, I claim the label proudly. Better insipid than abstruse. Also, stop comparing yourself.

Says who?

Being unknown is totally unrelated to be worth knowing.

That’s wishful thinking.

I work very hard to improve my work. I enjoy and seek out new challenges. Sometimes it works, sometimes I learn a valuable lesson.

You WERE, also Not any more.

I earned a national (maybe international) reputation for my original methods and my work on gender and fashion. I can now choose to expand my field further in the same direction or not.

Now you’re deadwood.

I may not have published anything until recently, but I am hardly “deadwood”. In five years I have become a valued member of my new department home.

But you can’t write.

I write for hours a day: web pages, email, assignments, journal entries. I write a lot and I am good at it.

2004

Am I happy? What makes me happy?

I can’t complain. In fact, I am well aware that I shouldn’t complain. I have more than I need to keep me safe, sheltered, rested, and fed. I have friends and family. I have meaningful work. My health is good. I have a spiritual life, and connections with several warm communities.

Would I like to have “more”? Sure! Who wouldn’t? But more what? And at what cost, to me or to others?

Later, after some “drifting”:

Here’s the deal: I want to reclaim my professional sense of direction. I feel overwhelmed by the little piddly tasks I have to do. I end up doing neither the large or small tasks because (1) I believe I need to finish the small items before I can look at the big picture and (2) I believe that my motivation for the little things will be inspired by the big picture. That’s the problem.

2022

My inclination to be terse is finally biting me in the ass. The essay for the masculinity book is supposed to be 8,000-9,000 words. The essay on a similar theme that I wrote for Vestoj was 2,500, and I can’t think of a thing to add.

Yikes!

2024

I spent all day yesterday focused on a “winter beer tasting” party we hosted last night for a few friends. The preparation consisted mostly of driving around in the pouring rain to local craft breweries, a bit of baking (savory shortbread biscuits and some gingerbread), and figuring out the final food and beer pairings. We stopped for lunch at one of the brewpubs and I had magnificent avocado toast. The evening was one great conversation after another.

I look back on my 1997 “what makes me happy” list, and the only item missing in 2024 was the kid/beagle in my lap. But I did get to pat the dog who lives across the hall.

About the breweries:

Local brewing is the best! Our selections came from three breweries within a few miles of each other on U.S. in Maryland. Frankin’s is our favorite brewery/restaurant/general store and Denizen’s has great trivia and other fun events. Streetcar 82 is the new kid on the block, but has not created a bad brew yet!