Have you ever noticed that life tends to hand out lemons with the left hand and lemonade with the right hand?
The lemons...
Tuesday night, still reeling from the knowledge that our dog has cancer, I was laying in bed, my arms flung wide. You might imagine this was Drama Personified, but it wasn't. My lymph nodes were so swollen I couldn't put my arms down.
"Great," I snuffled nasally to my husband, because my sinuses were burning and my eyes were running, "Next it will be the thyroid, and then I'll go to this awesome social media conference on Thursday looking like a runaway boa that swallowed a Bocce ball."
He snorted at me in laughter, which was not the sympathy I was begging for, pitifully.
"It will move up to the pituitary and then we'll all be sorry," I said threateningly and vengefully.
He fast-forwarded through the American Idol auditions.
I sniffed.
He looked at me.
I sniffed again.
He sniffed.
We looked at each other.
And we flew out of the bed. Burning! Burning plastic! Our house was on fire. I checked the upstairs, kids' rooms first. He took the downstairs. We sniffed outlets, unplugged appliances, scoped out the attic. I searched corners, felt walls, he opened doors, touched floors. We spent an entire hour trying to find the fire.
You are thinking, why not call the fire department, you idiots?
Trust me, we said the same thing to ourselves, but with no smoke or any evidence we felt too stupid to do so. We'd spend a bit of time checking this or that, try to settle in to bed, then leap up, panicked again. I'd shake the carbon monoxide detector and he'd check the smoke detector.
All while trying hard not to wake the children.
10 p.m. I said, "My arm pits hurt," and my lovely husband looked at me like I had two heads, and climbed back up into the attic. I walked back to the master bedroom and picked up the phone and called my best friend in the neighborhood. Her husband answered.
"Hello, Julie," he said. I like to think everyone amuses him as much as it seems I do.
"Does your house smell like it's got a plastic fire?" I asked without hesitation or pleasantries.
"My what? What? Why would you ask that?" he said, much more calmly than you might imagine. But I'm sure I'm nothing compared to astronauts on the space phone with him saying things like, "Houston, large chunks of Vital Parts of the Shuttle just broke off during re-entry."
In the background his wife, my friend is calling out, "Is that Julie? Is that Julie? She's calling about the burning smell isn't she?!?"
I can hear him move the phone from his mouth and say, "The what?"
He pauses and listens, I hear her in the background. I can't make out much beyond, "Stinking AWFUL...sick as a dog...the CAR...!!"
He gets back on the phone, "Well you ladies with your Spidey sense of smell can apparently note the benzene levels in the air simply by sniffing. I'm to tell you that YES we smell that and it's STINKING AWFUL and she pulled the car off the road on the way home from church several times she was so convinced the car had to be on fire. So NO it's not your house, it's just the chemical plants to the north of us."
"Oh, okay, well that's a relief," I said, "No, wait, no it's NOT, not a relief AT ALL," I asserted.
We traded a few details, and I issued an abject apology for calling so late, he extended reassurances it was okay, and we hung up...safe in the knowledge that our homes weren't burning but the toxic plants north of us were emitting foul odors that did who knows what.
The smell was so dreadful even those of us used to the stench of the plants to the north panicked; my husband assumed some plant must have had a leak or blown up. And yet...no news stories to that effect.
Just a stench that made us ill, all night.
The lemonade...
Obviously, then, the thing to do Wednesday night is join my fab girl friends for a chick flick.
We went to see 27 Dresses, which was good...really beyond my expectations. It was at least 27 laughs---literally laughing out loud---especially during the Benny and the Jets scene at the bar.
All of us enjoyed the movie, overall. Especially because we were Out, which we relish the way a dog who finally finished digging a hole his size and escaped under the fence would.
There were some true tender moments in the movie, too. Good chemistry between the characters, as well.
It was an enjoyable evening with nice friends and a good movie. I was impressed because it was better written and acted than I expected. I recommend the film if it is the sort of thing you like.
But it did open up a slight moral dilemma. One character was a writer and wrote something that upset another character. It brought back up the question many of us have asked: are people we know fair fodder for writing? People in our real lives? People we know or read online? Other bloggers? Things we read, such as blog posts, emails, news stories, etc? Are other people and the things they do fair fodder for our blogs (or other writing)?
Copyright 2007 Julie Pippert
Also blogging at:
Using My Words
Julie Pippert REVIEWS: Get a real opinion about BOOKS, MUSIC and MORE
Julie Pippert RECOMMENDS: A real opinion about HELPFUL and TIME-SAVING products
Moms Speak Up: Talking about the environment, dangerous imports, health care, food safety, media and marketing, education, politics and many other hot topics of concern.
The lemons...
Tuesday night, still reeling from the knowledge that our dog has cancer, I was laying in bed, my arms flung wide. You might imagine this was Drama Personified, but it wasn't. My lymph nodes were so swollen I couldn't put my arms down.
"Great," I snuffled nasally to my husband, because my sinuses were burning and my eyes were running, "Next it will be the thyroid, and then I'll go to this awesome social media conference on Thursday looking like a runaway boa that swallowed a Bocce ball."
He snorted at me in laughter, which was not the sympathy I was begging for, pitifully.
"It will move up to the pituitary and then we'll all be sorry," I said threateningly and vengefully.
He fast-forwarded through the American Idol auditions.
I sniffed.
He looked at me.
I sniffed again.
He sniffed.
We looked at each other.
And we flew out of the bed. Burning! Burning plastic! Our house was on fire. I checked the upstairs, kids' rooms first. He took the downstairs. We sniffed outlets, unplugged appliances, scoped out the attic. I searched corners, felt walls, he opened doors, touched floors. We spent an entire hour trying to find the fire.
You are thinking, why not call the fire department, you idiots?
Trust me, we said the same thing to ourselves, but with no smoke or any evidence we felt too stupid to do so. We'd spend a bit of time checking this or that, try to settle in to bed, then leap up, panicked again. I'd shake the carbon monoxide detector and he'd check the smoke detector.
All while trying hard not to wake the children.
10 p.m. I said, "My arm pits hurt," and my lovely husband looked at me like I had two heads, and climbed back up into the attic. I walked back to the master bedroom and picked up the phone and called my best friend in the neighborhood. Her husband answered.
"Hello, Julie," he said. I like to think everyone amuses him as much as it seems I do.
"Does your house smell like it's got a plastic fire?" I asked without hesitation or pleasantries.
"My what? What? Why would you ask that?" he said, much more calmly than you might imagine. But I'm sure I'm nothing compared to astronauts on the space phone with him saying things like, "Houston, large chunks of Vital Parts of the Shuttle just broke off during re-entry."
In the background his wife, my friend is calling out, "Is that Julie? Is that Julie? She's calling about the burning smell isn't she?!?"
I can hear him move the phone from his mouth and say, "The what?"
He pauses and listens, I hear her in the background. I can't make out much beyond, "Stinking AWFUL...sick as a dog...the CAR...!!"
He gets back on the phone, "Well you ladies with your Spidey sense of smell can apparently note the benzene levels in the air simply by sniffing. I'm to tell you that YES we smell that and it's STINKING AWFUL and she pulled the car off the road on the way home from church several times she was so convinced the car had to be on fire. So NO it's not your house, it's just the chemical plants to the north of us."
"Oh, okay, well that's a relief," I said, "No, wait, no it's NOT, not a relief AT ALL," I asserted.
We traded a few details, and I issued an abject apology for calling so late, he extended reassurances it was okay, and we hung up...safe in the knowledge that our homes weren't burning but the toxic plants north of us were emitting foul odors that did who knows what.
The smell was so dreadful even those of us used to the stench of the plants to the north panicked; my husband assumed some plant must have had a leak or blown up. And yet...no news stories to that effect.
Just a stench that made us ill, all night.
The lemonade...
Obviously, then, the thing to do Wednesday night is join my fab girl friends for a chick flick.
We went to see 27 Dresses, which was good...really beyond my expectations. It was at least 27 laughs---literally laughing out loud---especially during the Benny and the Jets scene at the bar.
All of us enjoyed the movie, overall. Especially because we were Out, which we relish the way a dog who finally finished digging a hole his size and escaped under the fence would.
There were some true tender moments in the movie, too. Good chemistry between the characters, as well.
It was an enjoyable evening with nice friends and a good movie. I was impressed because it was better written and acted than I expected. I recommend the film if it is the sort of thing you like.
But it did open up a slight moral dilemma. One character was a writer and wrote something that upset another character. It brought back up the question many of us have asked: are people we know fair fodder for writing? People in our real lives? People we know or read online? Other bloggers? Things we read, such as blog posts, emails, news stories, etc? Are other people and the things they do fair fodder for our blogs (or other writing)?
Copyright 2007 Julie Pippert
Also blogging at:
Using My Words
Julie Pippert REVIEWS: Get a real opinion about BOOKS, MUSIC and MORE
Julie Pippert RECOMMENDS: A real opinion about HELPFUL and TIME-SAVING products
Moms Speak Up: Talking about the environment, dangerous imports, health care, food safety, media and marketing, education, politics and many other hot topics of concern.
Comments
If you're unsure about writing about someone you care about, though, it's probably best to only write it in a personal journal or not write it at all.
I liked 27 Dresses, and I'm a guy. I think there were maybe three other guys in the theather with probably a hundred girls on a Monday night. Still, I enjoyed it, especially because my wife did. Our two kids were perfect, too, as one slept through it all and the other just watched with rapt attention. He even started saying "No" when Heigl's character was learning to say no. It was cute. Since so many girls talked about the movie, I never worried that any could complain about it if my son did get fussy, but he never did. So that's a thumbs up from two guys.
Re 2, let's see if I can convince my husband to go!
Re 3, I worry about this all the time. It's why I never blog about my husband (whether I were writing nice things about him or mean would be irrelevant to him -- he doesn't want to appear much at all, regardless of how I spin him).
The movie ... I'm envious. I really really want to go and see this one in the theatre, and my inlaws are coming next weekend, but my husband said since i picked the last, oh, well ALL the movies we've seen, he gets to pick this time. And this isn't it.
I'm working on him. ;-)
I do not write about my husband (much) because it would then permeate our relationship and he would feel the need to censor himself. Others? (I mean other decent people) I change names and get their approval if they are identifiable.
But, I do worry about this with the book. All I can say is, though it may hurt some who don't deserve it, I think that is outweighed by the good it can do.
Or, at least that's what I tell myself.
Emily
Blogging: if they're people I know, I figure if it's something I would say to their face and they're not personally identifiable, fair game. I do write about my husband because I think he's such a neat person, I just want to share that... most of the time I get his permission but not always. Strangers in public spaces are mostly fair game. The one thing I come up against is the people in the drop-in centre where I volunteer because they didn't choose to have my volunteer there and they probably didn't choose their circumstances. However, they're so interesting that it does more public good for me to write about them than it does damage to their privacy. I am beginning to just in my compassion, that it will show through.
Photography: I worry less about people in my photography. When I'm in the open shooting people on the street, I have discovered there is a moment of consent, when they see the camera to my eye and they don't move away. People have asked me not to take any pictures of them and I always respect that.
In both cases (blogging and photography) the representations are more about the writer/photographer than about the subject... plus I just cannot resist sharing who and what I see.
As for your final question...
I think that (for most) one's blog is a public version of a personal journal, which means that ostensibly what you write should be about you. Because other people feature prominently in our lives, of course they are going to become characters in our own story. And, as in a novel, sometimes we might take a diversion from the main character and talk about someone else for a few pages; but that story is really only important in as much as it conveys something universal or reveals more about our main character (us, the storyteller).
That said, even writing in the most respectful or constructive manner about the people we know (including our children) may have consequences we can't predict. Someone may be hurt, surprised, enraged over something we wrote and we will have to deal with that when it happens.
I do think it's important to have boundaries and that it's just plain disrespectful to write so much about others that their sense of privacy is violated, or to use one's blog to pick a fight, or publicly humiliate someone else (especially if you're married to or gave birth to them--which I have read, from high profile bloggers).
I think people we come across our know casually are fair fodder, as long as we don't use names. I struggle with this because I do write about my kids and they haven't expressly allowed me AND they are not extensions of me, but individual people with their own rights. So I try to be very mindful not to write about things that are deeply personal for them, or to post pics that show them in vulnerable positions. I do want to write about them to have a record of these days, for as long as this blogging thing lasts.
As far as the burning smell, EEK! That's awful, although I am entirely relieved that your house was not on fire.
And that is why I don't usually blog about friends or extended family, even though you KNOW it is a comedy gold mine. GOLD MINE. But I restrain myself, because if my bog ever becomes not so secret, I don't want that to make things worse.
I know, very nice.
As for blogging and who is fair game; my general rule of thumb is, if it's my family or my friends, no personal stuff without permission. Other bloggers, I need their permission as well, unless I'm linking to something they wrote (and it would still be nice to ask).
does that make me old fashionedly polite? Maybe. Do I want to do unto others, etc? You betcha.
Hoping for some good news on your puppy dog :(
I wanted to see 27 Dresses but thought it would turn out to be just another poorly written romantic comedy. So glad you recommended it. I think I'll try and convince the hubby to see it with me.
And how lickably hot was James Marsden (I have Ms. Heigl fatigue, I'm afraid)?
Glad your house was not on fire.
Secondly, everyone is blog fodder. EVERYONE. But if it's something that might get them in trouble or totally embarrass them then I might let them proofread it first. My husband does not agree with this philosophy of mine.
I wish I could see a movie. One that is for grown ups and grown ups only...
About the writing stuff - I think personal journal write what you will, give it to the public make sure that you will not hurt anyone.
And we're having a chick night soon. I'll have to recommend that movie. ")
It's not like I avoid blogging about people I know, it's just that it usually comes up in passing. Like talking about GT kids, I'll bring up my kids. Or crappy Christmas presents. But I don't, except one time, blog about a person or what they did. Mostly because this is all about me and what I think. It's a pretty selfish blog. Frankly, it's the only place I can be selfish.
And I'm so sorry to hear about your dog's diagnosis. I've got my fingers crossed for him but if you ever want to bitch, email me.
Who do you even contact about noxious smells? The newspaper? The EPA? (ha, ha) I'm so sorry you were breathing that... stuff.
Blog fodder? Good question. I think if something inspires you, write about it. If it's personally identifiable, ask if it's OK, or change details so it's not. Link where you can. *I* trust you!
Regarding writing about other people, I try not to write nasty or mean things about people. My family is such a huge part of my life that is would be hard to leave them out. Although, sometimes my hubby will do something particularly goofy and say "You're not going to mention that in your blog, are you?" So I have to give in. :)
I know so many people who read my blog, (they are lurkers) -- so with that in mind, I cannot write about them. I do wish I had kept my a secret...because I have such great stories about them! LOL. I did write one post, however, about people my husband works with. I waited several months before I posted it, still, I sometimes think maybe I shouldn't have done it. But, on the other hand, it was an amazingly weird and funny post, and everyone LOVED it... and it was TRUE.
I'm glad to know someone else worries about what the firefighters might think! ;)
As for your question -- I try to pretend that any person I might write about is a regular reader of my blog. (OK, well, this hasn't applied to in-laws thus far...)
I think it's impossible to be a writer and NOT write about the people we know, even if only peripherally.
I am the queen of justification. Have to be, since my day job also requires me to write about other people.
My blog is a 'travel blog' more than anything -- and everyone who's mentioned on it knows and has access to it. Which works as a good moderator for me, I think. I would love to have an anon blog where I can write about some of the stuff I cannot write about now. But then I'd have to totally fictionalize people and places. I think that would be OK. As long as I'm not hurting anyone, I should be allowed to write about my own experiences/opinions/impressions of things.
Sorry to be rambling. Happy weekend to you and your gang. I know it's been a rough week - I hope for a better one for you next week.
Heidi
I can't believe how much I enjoyed 27 Dresses. Took my daughter for something to do, and lost track of how many times I laughed out loud. Often enough that my daughter was ready to move to another seat from embarrassment. :)
As for writing about others. That gets a big "it depends." On the person, the circumstances, the potential for hurt.
"are people we know fair fodder for writing? People in our real lives? People we know or read online? Other bloggers? Things we read, such as blog posts, emails, news stories, etc? Are other people and the things they do fair fodder for our blogs (or other writing)?" That sounds like a Wed. topic for the future!