"I don't care about the sky" 😂 what a liar. Beautiful writing, only you could make a story about sitting on a plane instead of watching the eclipse interesting!
I can relate: “I think I was born with the sense that the party is always raging in some other house, that the story is unfurling while I’m stuck in a closet.” But I’ve also made the opposite mistake: feeling that wherever I'm living is the only place to be. Boulder! Why live anywhere else? New York! Why live anywhere else? Brooklyn! So much better than Manhattan! Etc. I don’t feel that way about Maplewood, NJ, but it’s fine for a bit.
I think I learned early to be numb to what I was missing, to what I couldn't have. If I was missing the party, better to turn off the part of me that would yearn for it, tummy twisted for the sense of me not mattering. When I was 13, restless on a Friday night, I couldn't find anyone to do anything . . . no one seemed to be home. I found out later that everyone, including my best friend, Diane, had been at Barb's sleepover party that I wasn't invited to. Well, whatever. It was over by then. But I couldn't get over wondering. Why didn't she invite me? Diane said Barb stood in her kitchen that night and said she should have invited me. Why everyone but me? It went clunk and joined hands with the other times that what I felt, what I thought, what I wanted, didn't matter - like Sweater Day, when Tommy had agreed to bring his sweater for me, and after I went to school with the blouse that anticipated it, he forgot it, and I was conspicuous in a sweater-less white blouse all day. But that day, after the party I didn't attend, I went to school, set my face to the future, and I'm sure, got an A in something.
Loved this! I missed out on 9/11 attacks. I was hiking on Mt. Rainier on didn't hear a word until two days later. I have tried writing about that. For a very long time. :)
I live in the UK and our last total eclipse was in 1999. My most vivid memory of that day is standing in a dog turd in bare feet, so make of that what you will. You can attend the once-in-a-lifetime experience and still have a literally-shite time.
I love this so much! I also missed the eclipse because I was in Turkey and was trying desperately to watch it online but I realized immediately you can't translate the real thing onto youtube. Duh. I guess that's obvious. It looks like you did see it from the plane window though! And what's with the chiropractor claiming he doesn't care about the sky? That's just wrong on every level. I would never go back to him.
Turkey is worth missing an eclipse for! I did see the world go dark, but I missed the actual moon-crossing-the-sun moment. My chiropractor is really good, so I'll overlook his sky indifference.
FOMO 2.0. what an essay! I love love love you're voice. " Here's a picture that has nothing to do with anything" paraphrasing. Sorry. Just waking up.
God how many times have I felt FOMO for missing celestial events. Because it was cold out. Because I didn't feel like driving again. Anymore. Because I had to clean the kitchen. Because I just wanted to stay on the couch and watch White Lotus. Because. You're essay kicks butt. Now I don't feel so alone in my sometimes celestial indifference
Actually, Tara McGuire, a friend of mine, wrote an achingly gorgeous book about losing her son Holden to a drug overdose. She imagines what his last week's were like, makes up versions of stories of those last days. It's called Holden After and Before. She taught at SMDA this past conference
your writing is so, so beautiful! there's so many lines i want to quote and say "me too!" but this is the one i love best: "I think I was born with the sense that the party is always raging in some other house, that the story is unfurling while I’m stuck in a closet."
thank you for such a beautiful essay! i can't wait to read more of your work ❤️
"I don't care about the sky" 😂 what a liar. Beautiful writing, only you could make a story about sitting on a plane instead of watching the eclipse interesting!
He didn’t seem to be lying! Or maybe I just really need to trust my chiropractor?
Your essay delighted me, tickled me, and warmed me up with empathy and twinship.
Thanks, Diana! :-)
And thank YOU. ❤️
I can relate: “I think I was born with the sense that the party is always raging in some other house, that the story is unfurling while I’m stuck in a closet.” But I’ve also made the opposite mistake: feeling that wherever I'm living is the only place to be. Boulder! Why live anywhere else? New York! Why live anywhere else? Brooklyn! So much better than Manhattan! Etc. I don’t feel that way about Maplewood, NJ, but it’s fine for a bit.
I have felt that way about all three of those places! Miss you.
So grateful I did not "miss out" on reading this fabulous piece.
Your missing out experience was as meaningful as our watch party. (we did miss you)
I think I learned early to be numb to what I was missing, to what I couldn't have. If I was missing the party, better to turn off the part of me that would yearn for it, tummy twisted for the sense of me not mattering. When I was 13, restless on a Friday night, I couldn't find anyone to do anything . . . no one seemed to be home. I found out later that everyone, including my best friend, Diane, had been at Barb's sleepover party that I wasn't invited to. Well, whatever. It was over by then. But I couldn't get over wondering. Why didn't she invite me? Diane said Barb stood in her kitchen that night and said she should have invited me. Why everyone but me? It went clunk and joined hands with the other times that what I felt, what I thought, what I wanted, didn't matter - like Sweater Day, when Tommy had agreed to bring his sweater for me, and after I went to school with the blouse that anticipated it, he forgot it, and I was conspicuous in a sweater-less white blouse all day. But that day, after the party I didn't attend, I went to school, set my face to the future, and I'm sure, got an A in something.
Judy! I don't like this Barb character. What the hell, Barb?!
I know, right?!
Loved this! I missed out on 9/11 attacks. I was hiking on Mt. Rainier on didn't hear a word until two days later. I have tried writing about that. For a very long time. :)
Hi Jane. I love seeing your name here!
This is great, Diana.
Thank you. :)
So beautifully written, as always!
Courtney! Thank you! ❤️
I live in the UK and our last total eclipse was in 1999. My most vivid memory of that day is standing in a dog turd in bare feet, so make of that what you will. You can attend the once-in-a-lifetime experience and still have a literally-shite time.
😂😂😂😂😂
It's a matter a perspective. One could say we miss something every day or could gain something at any moment. Thanks for the read!
So true!
Lovely piece!
“How do you write about an event you weren’t present for?”
I struggled with that one in my memoir and like the solution you mention here a lot.
Thank you, Claire!
I love this so much! I also missed the eclipse because I was in Turkey and was trying desperately to watch it online but I realized immediately you can't translate the real thing onto youtube. Duh. I guess that's obvious. It looks like you did see it from the plane window though! And what's with the chiropractor claiming he doesn't care about the sky? That's just wrong on every level. I would never go back to him.
Turkey is worth missing an eclipse for! I did see the world go dark, but I missed the actual moon-crossing-the-sun moment. My chiropractor is really good, so I'll overlook his sky indifference.
FOMO 2.0. what an essay! I love love love you're voice. " Here's a picture that has nothing to do with anything" paraphrasing. Sorry. Just waking up.
God how many times have I felt FOMO for missing celestial events. Because it was cold out. Because I didn't feel like driving again. Anymore. Because I had to clean the kitchen. Because I just wanted to stay on the couch and watch White Lotus. Because. You're essay kicks butt. Now I don't feel so alone in my sometimes celestial indifference
Thank you, dear Dhana!
Actually, Tara McGuire, a friend of mine, wrote an achingly gorgeous book about losing her son Holden to a drug overdose. She imagines what his last week's were like, makes up versions of stories of those last days. It's called Holden After and Before. She taught at SMDA this past conference
your writing is so, so beautiful! there's so many lines i want to quote and say "me too!" but this is the one i love best: "I think I was born with the sense that the party is always raging in some other house, that the story is unfurling while I’m stuck in a closet."
thank you for such a beautiful essay! i can't wait to read more of your work ❤️
Oh, gosh, THANK YOU, Winnie.