1966
Went to club. Man there thot (sic) that Mr. D was my husband, so he left me alone. Unfortunately, Mr. D met him later and told him the truth.
Stayed up ’til 2 with Raul. I like him, but while he’s friendly, he is never more. I kind of wish he were.
Juan told me he’d been “going out” with a married woman and that her husband found out. That does it for us. Juan is too rash - too foolish and impulsive. He’s still my friend, but never more than a friend. Raul “psychoanalyzed” me. I am prejudiced, like life and boys too much, don’t like freckles on boys, and am too worried about being pretty.
Comment 2023
Oh, Juan is foolish and impulsive, and you are the sensible, rational one. I get it.
1984 (Norway)
Today I will spend the entire day at the Folkmuseum. It is my plan to go slowly and to spend part of each hour sitting and listening and writing. It is a very large museum and I should be able to make a nice, leisurely day of it, without killing my feet.
Later:
So far I’ve been a very good girl. As it turns out, this is a HUGE place with many buildings, but not all of them are open (storage, stables). So this won’t take as long as I thought. Perhaps I will see the National Gallery, after all, or the Resistance Museum.
Other than that, I find myself with a wicked headache and a big load of homesickness. I even toyed with the idea of going to the airport NOW and getting an earlier flight. But that’s silly. I’ll just have to hang on on more day. Tomorrow night I’ll be home!
Even later:
My last night in Europe. On the one hand, I’m ready to go home (even took my bags to the station locker). But still, I am beginning to feel more comfortable here. I wish Jim and Kiddo could come here and we could see things together.
Tonight, after going to the station with my bags, I strolled up Karl Johanns Gate to University Grove, looking in the shop windows, peoplewatching, and listening to street musicians. There were hundreds of people doing the same thing, even though all the stores were shut down tight, But it didn’t matter. There we were, all strolling. Young and old, new wave and old wave, Norwegian and tourist, black, white and every shade in between. I keep comparing Oslo with Copenhagen. Copenhagen seemed like a more outwardly happy city; people seemed in a better mood, smiling more. But I wonder if the Norwegians are just as content, just keeping it to themselves. There is more construction going on in Oslo, which makes it look “untidy”. But it has a stronger underlying pulse than Copenhagen. I’d love to come back and see more of this part of the world. Who knows what the future holds?
Comment 2023
The future holds a return to Scandinavia in 1995, with Jim and the kiddos.
2018
Sunday
Just a little bit of work this morning, before heading to church and cider tasting with LB.
2020 (Avon, North Carolina)
So much water
So much sleep
Jet skis = bad
Kitesurfing = good
Warm, damp air = pleasant
The company of smart, sassy women = excellent
Thunderstorms at dawn = awesome and scary
There will be a sunset tonight.
And I wish I’d brought a sweater.
2016
The DNC convention is over and I am looking forward to getting back to a sane bedtime and a reasonable schedule. I have been staying up until 12:30 or later for most of the last two weeks. No naps, either, most days. So I am exhausted. Not much work has been accomplished, though the sense of leisure has been great. I just wish the weather was more pleasant. Hot, sticky, and oppressive - taking walks has been out of the question, morning or evening. The sky looks deceptively clear. I will not be fooled.
There are things to do on the horizon, and I do need to step it up before they all land on me. Beer dinner. Invisalign. Manuscript reviews. Respond to blog comments. More blogging. READING and note taking. I am keeping myself going with these morning pages as much as I can. Candy Crush and Facebook take up too much time. I need to back off from both.
Jim will be happier when he goes back to work. I know he dislikes the post-surgical self care. Until it becomes routine, he needs emotional support and a bit of pampering.
“So let go” The last line of “God is a River”. Such good advice. I’ve been holding all my resentment and fear so close, it is practically embedded in my body. Deep breath, Jo. Let go. Just let go. If tears come, let them. It’s been too long. I need to write more flash fiction. It’s very satisfying. Most of the other FF writers seem young, even very young. But it’s all about trying to get words out, thoughts on paper.
Is this the day I became an old lady? Have I just “let myself go”?
Comment 2023
That’s an very inside joke, a personal one. When I was little, I remember hearing about women who had “let themselves go”, and thinking it sounded like wonderful fun.
About Jim’s situation: I don’t mean to be too vague, but alqso want to spare him ever reading this. It was a common Older Guy surgery, and he was not pleased. But he’s fine today. And still doesn’t talk much about it, except with other Older Guys. I am sure the Older Guys out there will understand.