Six-Word Memoirs

For my 25th birthday, my friends Randal and Ginny gave me a cool book called "Not Quite What I Was Planning: Six-Word Memoirs by Writers Famous & Obscure." The 6-word story was supposedly first posed as a challenge to Hemingway, who came up with "For Sale: baby shoes, never worn."

At my birthday party, we passed the book around the wine bar and tried to brainstorm some 6-word memoirs. I was talking that night about how I'll struggle not to cry while reciting my wedding vows, considering that I tear up at this dog food commercial:

So Ginny suggested this one for me: "I cry at dog food commercials."

Today feels more basic, like maybe: "Wake up, make coffee, live life."

Some favorites from the book: 

"I inhale battles. I exhale victories." -William Heath

"Cheese is the essence of life." -Mary Lynch

"Became more like myself every year." -Eddie Sulimirski

"Fifteen years since last professional haircut." -Dave Eggers

What's your 6-word memoir?

Birthday Weekend

I already posted a birthday post, but I have to write another to stress just how fantastic it's been.

Key Lime Pie. Made by Chris. Men who bake = sexy.

Rock Band 2 for Wii. My parents are awesome. Also got some Wii games from Chris...guess everyone decided to help me celebrate 25 by reminding me that I'm actually 5. :-D

Cats love birthdays because they come with paper, ribbon, and boxes.

Claret Wine Bar in Sunnyside, and all of the lovelies (the "Easy People") who came out to celebrate with me. Particularly my cousin Patrick, who came the farthest.

And also hooray for: The Nields, sandwiches at Piano's, Bass Ale, cards in the mail, books in the mail, e-cards, original personalized birthday songs, chocolate truffles, Emmylou Harris, old school Mario games, and purring cats who don't even know they're making your day.

25

I wasn't sure quite what to post in honor of my quarter-century celebration. Tonight I'm going to see The Nields, which feels appropriately nostalgic and happy. So, I have decided to post an excerpt from something equally as nostalgic and happy, something else that has remained with me over the years and has also helped shape me:

"Melinda Pratt rides city bus number twelve to her cello lesson, wearing her mother’s jean jacket and only one sock. Hallo world, says Minna. Minna often addresses the world, sometimes silently, sometimes out loud...

...Minna looks out the bus window and thinks about her life. Her one life. She likes artichokes and blue fingernail polish and Mozart played too fast. She loves baseball, and the month of March because no one else much likes March, and every shade of brown she has ever seen. "

—from The Facts and Fictions of Minna Pratt, by Patricia MacLachlan, © 1988.

In the space of 136 pages, Minna grapples with the idea of impending womanhood, falls in love, and tries endlessly to develop her vibrato. The orchestral and city backdrops running throughout the book obviously drew me in, but Minna was at the heart of it—I always identified with her. At the end of the book, she grows up; we close the back cover (reluctantly!) on a more mature Minna; the confident, graceful, owner of a rich vibrato.

It's taken a lot for me to reach this point, but I'm happy where I am. I do feel a bit like Minna at the end of her journey, and revisiting this passage has given me new resolve to use my (literal and figurative) vibrato in decorating the days to come.