In a perfect world, my bio would read:
An only child, I was born to wealthy parents. Obtained a film degree from UCLA. Took two years off to travel the world and augment my knowledge so that I could write from first-hand experience. Aunt Sofia got me a job as an intern with her successful production company. Today, I have more writing credits than Trump has assets. The rest is history.
In the real world:
An only child, I was born to blue-collar immigrants. Got a film degree from York. Took jobs in and outside the film industry to pay bills. Started writing. Took jobs teaching ESL and training and editing in the aerospace realm. Continued writing. Acquired my knowledge from books and the Internet. Bloomed [very] late in life. Finally woke up and smelled the coffee. Smelled the roses, too. The rest is history.
What would someone who’s always enjoyed anonymity and a certain aversion to networking want to share? Things pertinent to the blog? Or her? Can I overcome both and open up? I always say “never say never”, so . . . .
- not a gum-snapper anymore, as a former colleague used to describe herself. Though reading time is limited, I’m really into Stieg Larsson’s books these days. But then I have a secret desire to be as cerebral, independent, and feisty as Lisbeth Salander. Wouldn’t mind being that young again either, but with my present-day wisdom and maturity.
- into Earth Mother.
- Enjoy Women’s World. This weekly mag, rather wholesome and sweet, satisfies like comfort food—gooey mac and cheese, gravy-laden french fries (with vinegar, of course), or oozy thick-crusted pizza, heavy on the goat cheese. For a wee while, the world seems sane and cheery, and full of nummy things.
- still trying to figure out Twitter. Like what the heck is there worth sending so many tweets about? I’ve managed three in the three weeks I’ve gotten myself up and running, all “thank yous”, and I’m pretty damn proud I got that far. Man, you’d have to have a lot of free time to read and respond to everything out there. And I haven’t yet (at time of writing this) gotten into FaceBook. This, too, will come.
Enough about me. For now.