Earlier today I caught part of a discussion on memoir writing on Talk of the Nation*, a program I sometimes tune into on NPR. While some points of advice seemed sager than others, what really stuck with me was the mediator Marion Roach Smith’s insistence that for memoir writing to ring true in any format, one must check their embellishments; a good story, told well, is intriguing enough. Forever the self-conscious writer, I re-read my nine blog entries to date, and found that as a small but growing collection, this blog reads as a diary of a
reformed reforming picky eater.
*Is it just me, or do you as well find this program very hit or miss? I suppose it’s to be expected when a show relies so heavily on audience participation. I often find myself puzzled and astounded by the broad range of call-in commentaries ranging from brilliant to close-minded.
I’ve noticed that couples often begin to appear more and more alike over time, perhaps dressing in a similar style, or subconsciously picking up facial expressions, mannerisms, sayings and the like. While it might be that we are drawn to others who are similar to ourselves (including appearance to some degree), these nuances are only amplified with time spent together. Naturally, I’d assume that this applies to long-lasting friendships as well.
When you have a friend who will put up with incessantly being called “Pattycake” without complaint they deserve a birthday treat fitting of such a name. When Pat’s 25th birthday rolled around I decided not one but two “pattycakes” were in order (red velvet, and an apple-ginger concoction). Two somewhat sloppily frosted (I could use a LOT of practice) layer cakes and a lot of booze and cake-fueled smiles later, there was a clear winner in my cake runoff. The people had voted with their forks, and simplicity and nostalgia won out, with only scraps of red velvet cake leftover.