Day 1: Not Much Left to Say

It's actually quite surreal to sit here at my computer and type in the words Day 1. I have a way of giving up on things -- follow through isn't my strong suit -- but I was determined when I started this back in August to finish it. And I've done it. And I have to tell you that I'm crying right now, I'm that proud of myself.

One day late in July the title One Hundred to 50 popped up out of nowhere. David and I happened to be in Boston the next day and I mentioned it to him, my arbiter of taste when it comes to words; three days later, with his praise for the idea spurring me on, I was blogging. Another impulsive move on my part, but a good one. This blog has been a massive brain dump for me, my stream of consciousness, free association. Our very first computer used to flash the words, "Communicating at an unknown rate." And a few years ago when I was in London, I saw a road sign that said, "Changing Priorities Ahead." I used to think that both of those would make great titles for my autobiography. But in a way, this blog represents the first half of my autobiography, which I suppose, therefore, ought to be called One Hundred to 50.

That leaves the second half of my autobiography. For those of you who have told me that you're going to miss reading my blog everyday, I would reply that I think I'm going to miss writing it more. Thankfully (for me anyway!), I do have an idea for the next one: 50 to One Hundred. I'm not going to pressure myself into writing everyday -- after all, my plan is to do it for 50 years -- and I'm not sure when I'll start, but one of the items on my ultimate to-do list is to write another blog, and do it I will. Consider that a threat and a promise. Check back on this blog from time to time and perhaps you'll find an update. And if I were you, I'd check it tomorrow.

FYI, I've already taken care of one of the other items on the list. An hour or two after I posted it I happened to open an e-mail from Ticketmaster and lo and behold, it said that tickets were going on sale yesterday at 10:00 a.m. for U2 on July 19th at the Meadowlands. Serendipitous! Barring any unforeseen circumstances, looks like I'll be able to cross that one off the list.

I'm going into the city this afternoon. My impulsiveness worked out with regards to the blog but in terms of my hair, well, that's a whole other story. I'm going back to my old hairdresser to see if she can finish what Jaafar started. And would you like to know what her name is? Young! No joke. How appropriate, huh? Afterwards, I'm going to a baby shower. I don't know when I last went to one. It was probably for Lisa, our old nanny, whose baby shower baby is now eight.

Lisa is the drama teacher at a private school in New Jersey, and Friday night Hope and I went to see her show "Wonderland," an adaptation of books by Lewis Carroll that she co-wrote with one of her students. Incredible. And, she gave me a glorious gift: a list of 50 unforgettable NLMG things and memories. I can't possibly thank her enough for her thoughtfulness and for sparking my own memories that might otherwise have remained buried. I've written several times before about the beauty of those "Aha!" moments; reconnecting with a younger me is one of my greatest pleasures. Lisa gave me 50 of them.

Anyway, going to a baby shower this evening feels like a lovely way to usher in my big day. A new life. New memories. New joys. And the continuation of mine...

So, let's see, who else has a birthday tomorrow? My friend Laura, my birthday buddy. Also, Abigail Adams, Marshall Crenshaw, Kurt Vonnegut, Alger Hiss, George Patton, Charles Manson, Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Demi Moore, Calista Flockhart and Leonardo DiCaprio. Quite an assortment of characters. All Scorpios. Watch out! People born on November 11th are supposedly good storytellers. I certainly don't compare to the likes of writers like Vonnegut or Dostoyevsky, but everyone's life is a story, right? And each person tells it in their own way. Thank you for listening to me tell mine.