Stay of Execution: Stay of Execution: A Retrospective

Everyone's looking back. Sua Sponte's revisiting past Thanksgivings, and my dad just wrote about reading his journals from a year ago. I found myself having the same impulse. I decided to pull my journals and look at what I was writing and thinking about in the fall and winter three, five, ten, and fifteen years ago. Here are some snippets:

One year ago, November 2003: Here's what I was blogging about a year ago.

Three years ago, late December 2001, Age 28: At the Iron Horse in N. Hampton, waiting to see [Musician]. Afraid I've been thinking about this in a way that will lead to disappointment. [Musician]'s been a platform for my daydreams since we saw one another in early December. Part of it is that I have a crush, but another part, I think, it that I'm weary from this job....

I fear that I am entering a dreary time of life. Perhaps not, what with my new hair and my new job. But the job is a reason behind my suspicion.

The beauty of the job is the access it gives me to human drama -- a small tragedy in every case. I'm learning a lot about human weakness.

Five years ago, November 1999, Age 26: This just in from S. -- a late night (drunken?) missive. Still no call -- I called him two days ago, left a message wishing him well and asking what he's thankful for. The text was: 'Dear sweet woman, you are as inspired as you are lovely. You do truly warm and tickle my heart. And for that and life's countless mysterious blessings I give thanks.'

Sushi and scotch last night. Yum. I was even wearing my cashmere pants. Yummy. E. says I glow. I think I am beginning to. Overslept and missed Con Law, was late to Admiralty. Can't keep staying up late.

Ten years ago, November/December, 1994, Age 21: I think about J. all the time. My thoughts probably have little to do with him right now and far more to do with my feelings of loss and listlessness.... Learning lessons is tough. The loneliest times of my life have been right after J. left in August and these past two weeks. It's amazing to me how I can see things happen to other people and still not imagine something until it happens to me. So much for empathy. Love has made me feel lonelier than anything else. I'm lonely now, and the funny thing is that there's no cure -- I'll be lonely for a long time....Look at what I'm writing! I sound like a wimpy girl! This is the kind of cheese that I hate on top 40 radio and lame soap operas. This experience will certainly help me be a little more open minded about other people's loves. Nobody on the outside of a relationship can ever know what's right. Hell, the people in it probably can't.

....Another day squandered. Will I ever bring myself to do those horrid physics labs?

Last night A. & I went to Rudy's. We split 3 pitchers. Talked about evolution and brotherly love and friendship. He's great -- the more I know him the more I think so. One of the best things about him is how comfortable he makes other people. He laughs easily and sincerely and it feels good to be around him. Although he's not an active friend he is a solid one and knows much about me. I think I know him fairly well too, at least several facets of him.

I've been flirting with the idea of taking Prof. F's writing class. If I can get in, that is. I'll have to practice over break. Tonight I was in the bookstore reading the Best American Short Stories of '94 and loved it so much. I wonder if this is a colossal sign that I need to read and to write. I guess my reaction to my physics labs and my total indifference to my senior project are clues.

I have to make next semester fun. This one has been such a vacuum. I'm worried about disappointing people but really I've hated this fall. It's been awful. I've been honest about that.

Fifteen years ago, December 1989, Age 17: Yesterday at a pro-choice rally I fainted. A doctor behind me said it looked like a seizure because my eyes moved and my legs shook. I had a dream -- not anything I remember besides shapes and emotions, but it lasted a long time. I felt like I had a series of dreams, until suddenly I was looking up to a cold blue sky with wispy clouds blowing past, dead tree branches, and dozens of concerned faces looking down on me. Someone was holding my head. I felt shocked -- disoriented -- could not understand where I was for several moments. I had to recall the time before I passed out when I was feeling woozy and then figure out that I must have fainted. It seemed like hours had gone by between the time that I'd felt like I might faint to the time when I woke up on the ground. Someone had called an ambulance, and they carried me off in a stretcher and into an ambulance. It was embarrassing, but I did feel too wierd to walk. They gave me an EKG and then let me go. It was a very strange experience altogether, and very disorienting. I hope I don't have seizures, or faint for a while. I have fainted about four times in the last three years -- Oct '87 in Sex Ed class, Jan '88 in the doctor's office, Nov. '88 at home when I was sick, and now Nov. '89.

I can't believe it's going to be 1990 soon. That's something, isn't it? At the end of this decade it will be 2000, and I'll be 27 years old. I'll have gone to college, graduated, gotten a job and an apartment.... I wonder what I'll be like as a 27 year old. I'll probably be too serious. I hope when I get older I'll still hang out with younger people -- won't just blow them off because of their age. There are some adults who are great with younger people, but most of them just can't do it.

Seventeen years ago: Thanksgiving, 1987, Age 14: Last night L. spent the night. We talked for a long time. She still likes T, the creep. But she doesn't like most of her 'druggie' friends and wants to make new ones but finds it hard to do. She got all Bs and one D+ this quarter. The D+ was in World History.

Why do I try to force good grades on people? I think it's because Mom and Dad have always brought me up to think grades are important and school is important, etc. And I agree but then it is hard for me because there are a lot of people who I love and admire (L, E, S, A) who are not what they should be. I love them but not for my preconceived notion of what success is and what happiness is, because they don't share it.... So I feel a little uncomfortable at myself or at them because I love them very much even thought they don't fit my ideas, so I wonder if my ideas are wrong or if they're wrong. It's easier to say they're wrong and to try to change them. I'll decide they've got the right ingredients, the right notions, but they've just gone astray. But sometimes my little formula isn't right for them and I'm faced with the fact that maybe everyone's not the same as me only gone in a different direction. And if I can't think that then it's a lot harder to relate to them because I don't know who they are. And maybe, I'm forced to wonder, if my formula doesn't work for them, maybe it won't work for me....

The beginning of the fossil record: February, 1986, Age 13: Guess what? I won the city spelling bee! Yes, me! I even beat Josh W. (he got out quite early, actually, on UPBRAID, whatever that means). But I won. Super, huh? Super is my new word, I'm saying it all the time now. Yesterday Mr. L. gave me this long lecture about my behavior in math class and how I needed to conform to his rules. I feel guilty about not telling my mom, but I don't know if she'd understand. I hate Mr. L. Yucky-yuck.... Tomorrow's Valentine's Day and I think I'll write a note to Bobby H. and slip it inside his locker. 471. What a wonderful number....There's a writing workshop tomorrow, I was selected. I have no idea what it's for, though....Well, the writer's group was pretty boring. We wrote a few poems and the guy read us some eskimo poems. BORING! On Thursday nothing important happened, except I started really liking this kid on the track team. I like him he's in eighth grade and is nice, I think. He looks nice, like he's a nice guy, and he has curly hair. He's the best (or almost the best) high jumper on the team. Tori and Gwen also like him. I'm not going to blow it with him like I did Bobby H. by being overly anxious....