Sunday, January 30, 2005

So much for keeping up 

Man, if slacker isn't my middle name, it should be. It's Anne, actually. Well, on my birth certificate it's Ann because my mom said my dad f***ed up when spelling it, and it should be Anne, like Anne of Green Gables. But that's not who I was named after. My first name was after a good friend of my parents and middle was after Anne Fletcher, my grandfather's sister - so great aunt, I guess? I don't know. All I know is that growing up I was told my middle name was Anne with an E, until I turned sixteen and we dug out the birth certificate so that I could take it to DMV and get me a driver's license. It seems like a bizarre story. Not wanting kids, I don't know that I'll ever go through the whole process of "filling out a birth certificate" for my offspring; that and I'm currently unfamiliar with the process. However, I would assume that both parents sign the certificate, right? So if my dad screwed up the spelling, shouldn't my mom have caught it? Somebody clue me in because I have no idea. All I know is what I was told. Maybe I should ask them the next time we go to dinner. The point of all this though, is that they should have named me slacker, because that's what I am. That's what I do. I slack.

This isn't uncommon for me though. I have about 3 diaries that have been written in for about 20 pages. But then have been neglected since. I'll get all excited to keep a diary and commit to writing in it daily. Then a month will go by. A lot will have happened so I will try to recount all the details, but the process of doing that of course takes a while. So i'll be midway through and then have to go to work or school or something. So usually I'll leave off in the middle of this long ass story and then come back a year later and commence with, "man, a lot sure has happened..." and start the process all over again. My first diary was in high school. I started it my junior year. I remember it was in January of that year and we were getting ready to go to Regionals in cheer. So all my entries were competition related and accompanied by stories of my then current crush, Eric Highstreet. (Man, was that a long time ago.) This went on for about a month or two before it got permanently neglected. Then the next was right after college. I was unemployed at the time, waiting to get my clearance to become a substitute teacher. I had a ton of time on my hands so I wrote a lot. It was very Bridget Jones style since thats who I was convinced I was (and still am) at the time. Come to think of it, I haven't seen that one in awhile. I hope it didn't fall into the wrong hands - that is, those of my mother's. Things of mine mysteriously tended to disappear and reappear in her closet at a later time. Add to my to-do list: find 2nd diary. The third was when I was in France. I decided to keep one dedicated solely to my experience over there, and it too, was eventually neglected. My last entry was on my flight home, and then I took it with me to the hotel that the Texan and I were supposed to stay in the night he was supposed to come visit me, but didn't. And I remember opening it to try and finish some stories in it even though a lot of the detail had escaped me 5 months later. But I went to have dinner with my cousin, and also the Canadian had called me that night, so I was talking to him and never got a chance to re-visit the France diary. So today is probably the perfect day to dig these puppies out a read through them. Why today? Because I have a long list of things to-do: grocery shop, bills, hang out with the new man (maybe, if he doesn't stand me up), clean the apartment, get things straightened out before school starts Tuesday. It's days like these that I usually find myself engaged in activities like going through all my pictures and keepsakes or yearbooks or endless internet surfing - on the days that I have a shitload to do. Well, today is also a great day to do that because I need a bit of a distraction. We had the cat that I've had since I was 9 years old put to sleep yesterday. Don't want to be thinking about that at all.

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?