My Memoirs

When I googled things to do before I die as research for my previous post, I was surprised by how many people listed "write my memoir" or "tell someone my life story without omitting anything." Narcissistic, much?

I wanted to ask those people, why do you need to impose that on the world? I personally, don't think my memoir would be that interesting. Mind you, this blog is imposing me on you all the time. But that's totally different. Because in this blog, I talk about me. Which is totally different than what I would talk about in my memoirs. In my memoirs, I would talk about you, and how mean you were to me, and how you scarred me. Also crazy people. I would write about crazy people in my memoirs. Which I can't really do here because then I would offend all you crazy people and no one would read. Er, I mean, I wouldn't want the crazy people to read it by chance when they google "bucket list" combined with "holliberry" and inadvertently found my blog. That would be terrible.

Actually I tried writing my personal history once. I took a college course on genealogy (that's how we roll at the Y), and one of the assignments was to write a ten page life history. You know, for my progeny. I was really excited when I got the assignment, because I like to write and what could be more easy and fun than talking about me. It actually proved to be very depressing. I need to dig that paper up and see if it still depresses me. I can't pinpoint exactly why it depressed me. Lost childhood? Realization that I was an adult (21 at the time), and gone were the days of stitches without considering my method of payment for them? Possibly that was it. Or it could have been thinking about friends I had as a child that I had parted ways with. It was NOT because my life wasn't fascinating. Because it totally was. Just like now.