thirty blogging

So, I guess this is a symptom of being thirty-something. I just got an e-mail from a long-time, best friend informing me that he has started blogging; he wants to post one of my attempts at a short story on his site. This is a friend who has always had more belief in my creative abilities than I do and is truly my only fan. Of course, no one else has ever read any of my writing.

The past week has been different. Or difficult, I’m not sure which. My head is clear, I can get so much done is a day and I am not nearly as moody or pessimistic as I have been known to be. I wonder sometimes though, is getting older all about the homogenization of living? Every experience becomes predictable and easy, nothing amazes anymore. I keep thinking of the song, "Fascination Street", and realising that I'm going to have to fight to stay young. And I don't mean young in the wrinkle-free-must-look-12-forever way that all women are supposed to achieve. I mean young in the sense that I can laugh and play and love freely without prejudice or fear. That I can still find wonder in something or someone that I see everyday. Young in that I try new things and put myself out in the world to learn and be taught and to listen without thinking that I have all the knowledge I need. I’m definitely up for the fight, it just seems like a lot of people give up and I don’t want that to happen to me.

I'm going to go to school part-time for the Spring term. I really wanted to take a creative writing class but I'm not sure that it fits into my schedule - also I’m scared shitless. I don't want to:
a) be forced to write on a deadline (what if I get writers block!&*#)
b) let other people read my writing (which is always way too honest and self-revealing)
c) find out for certain that I suck.

So far I'm registered in a class that runs Tuesday nights for 4 hours. A long lecture time, but it's worth it to only have one day tied up. After all, it is almost summer.