Sunday, March 05, 2006

Pisce-Misce-llaneous

I am half-watching the Oscars on mute. I am taping them, so I am turning the TV on at random just to see if I can catch Amy Adams in the audience. I'll resist the urge to Oscar-blog.

On a sad note, my poor neglected Betta fish has died. Well, that's "spin". He was up high to keep him away from the cat. But up high on the shelf meant I frequently forgot about him. Poor thing. So truly, he died of neglect. I am guilty. Why did I have a cat and a fish? It's a long story.

My cat, thankfully, is alive. (She's not neglected, and is much louder.)

Tomorrow is my birthday. When I turned fifteen, I was grumpy.

"What's the matter with you?" asked Mom.
"I'm fifteen!" I said.
"So?"
"So? I've been alive for fifteen years and I haven't done anything! And in another fifteen years I'll be THIRTY!"

She laughed at me.

But my fifteen year old self was right. Now I am turning thirty. What do I have to show for the last fifteen years? Not much. Of course, I've grown and changed and bla bla bla. But have I been effective? At anything? That is, what effect have I had? Not much.

I'm not as grumpy about it though.

And I just discovered that George Eliot wrote her first piece of fiction at 38.
*
In Ottawa I found a three-volume set of the works of George Eliot published in 1887. The set was in great condition and only $20, so I bought it. One of the volumes is "Middlemarch", which I read over the course of a year and loved. The other is "Romola", which I haven't read yet. And the third is a collection of writing including poems, plays, etc. It includes Eliot's last work, Impressions of Theophrastus Such.

I started reading it last night, and this quote resonated with my musings on turning 30 (except of course, that I have no published work):

I have done no services to my country beyond those of every peaceable orderly citizen; and as to intellectual contribution, my only published work was a failure, so that I am spoken of to inquiring beholders as "the author of a book you have probably not seen."

(I was in Ottawa for the dual celebration of my b/f's 30th birthday and his mother's 60th. Their birthday is the same day. There ought to be a name for that. Anyone know enough latin?)
*
Ok, this is a long post as is. More tomorrow, when I will divulge the secret to my sister's radiance, and the four kinds of cheese currently in my fridge.

I know, you're riveted.

Writing? No progress since I last wrote. I'm not proud.

3 comments:

Bob W. said...

JM,

This is a terrific post! Happy Birthday, by the way. I turned 37 at the end of February, and I feel I better get published soon as well.

You say you haven't been doing much writing, but if you are posting great stuff like this to your blog, then I would be proud. I look forward to hearing about the cheese, too, ha ha.

Mich said...

You can't leave me hanging like this! What is the secret to my radiance?

JuliaMazal said...

Bob,
Thanks for the birthday wishes - and happy belated birthday right back!

M,
Sorry to have left you hanging. I honestly forgot I published this whole post. Imagine my surprise!

cheers!