Thursday, September 4, 2014
Went to the U.S. Open the Tuesday after Labor Day to see the mens' 4th round and women's quarters in a night session. Federer and Wozniacki both won in straight sets, so we got out at a reasonable hour which is nice in my old age, but slightly disappointing compared to 2005 when I saw Agassi beat Blake in a barn burner. Still glad I went and my date declared we should make it a yearly tradition, which is exactly what I've been wanting someone to say to me since I was 14. Victory tastes sweet.
Now I can work on getting to Wimbledon.
Did a sketch for a friend's birthday card yesterday. I need to revive my hobbies or I'm in danger of dissolving into a hybrid couch potato/barfly in my free time. Right now it feels like I'm dabbling in everything and it's not sticking. I've got a Le Carre book languishing on the bed stand, a stalled needlepoint project (I told you, I'm old), and a twice a week running schedule. Ugh.
While waiting for the train home from the Open, my friend and I were talking about current events. I admitted I don't really follow the news anymore. I read the New Yorker and follow NPR via my Facebook feed (it hurts me to come clean about that, I usually refer to it as a "news feed."). It took a long time for me to inquire more about ISIS. Because really, do I want to know more about these people? It's disgusting.
I spent most of my twenties engaged and enraged about the death and suffering caused by the ignorance and righteousness of this country -- that's your takeaway when you study American History at NYU. But at about seve months pregnant with my daughter my fascination and anger turned to sadness, and I realized in order for me to live powerfully I couldn't do it anymore. I've transferred that over to Mr. SevPrez and now he fights the good fight on that front.
I confessed to my friend that I went through old journals and correspondence when we moved and found evidence of a smarter, wittier, more relevant, firecracker version of myself. I was so sure of myself and my opinions! I used to write better. I was unabashed.
Am I a complete milquetoast? Does that come with the territory of marriage, motherhood, and mid-thirtydom? It's disorienting to feel you've lost your shine, but with that comes humility, and with humility comes the opportunity for grace. I do slightly less embarrassing things and make much better sartorial decisions. I can finally cook. Everyday my daughter eats, sleeps, and dances. So if I'm a bit of a dud, at least there's that.
Still. Gotta finish that book, sign up for a race, learn needlepoint, and get to Wimbledon. These are great projects and I should keep them alive. Never give up.