2000-02-13
The weather this weekend was cold and wet, a good excuse for staying inside where it's cozy. I love this kind of weekend, as long as it isn't imposed on me as it was during the recent snow.
I did venture out for some of my standard weekend activities: thrift shopping, library, gym. Thrift shopping and the library are actually similar: hunting for some little gem that could change my life, money a minor or non-issue. Each time I enter either place, I don't know what I'll come out with. Sometimes I leave empty-handed, other days I hit the mother lode.
I'm often aware of fate in these places, the role it plays in running across something at just the right time. I have kind of a reverent feeling toward the library. When I cross the threshold, I'm prepared for something miraculous to happen.
So, tomorrow is Valentine's Day. A woman I work with, who happens to be single, asked me on Friday whether I had any big plans. I really wasn't even sure when it was. I told her I'd spent so many of them valentine-less that I'd become to desensitized to the holiday. But you know, holidays have never been my bag. Way too much pressure.
I've been thinking about lightness in writing. For one thing, in online journals. I read some that are light in tone and sometimes just marvel. Are their authors genuinely light-hearted people or is this just the facet they choose -- or happen -- to share?
And then I think about myself. I'm pretty serious by nature, I guess, always have been. Though I'd like to think I'm good for the occasional laugh.
Some writer I studied with once observed that he'd found writers' personalities often to be the opposite of what you'd expect from reading their work: some of the comedic writers were rather somber in person and some of the heavier writers turned out to be real cut-ups. I wondered where I fit into that.
I think I grew up with a great fear of appearing silly. I'm the youngest of five children, eight years between me and my closest sibling. Some in my situation would maybe have played up their youth for cuteness or for laughs. I was always the precocious one, trying to rise to the level of those around me. (Of course, that was the cause of some unintentional laughs.)
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