Memoirs

In an attempt to redefine the way I look at my life and writing while at the same time pay heed to the chanting “writing your memoir will be good therapy, you have so much to say” blah blah blah (sorry love you guys – really :) I have been reading a lot of memoirs.

Most have been horrible involving painful determination to make it through to the end so I can hopefully get an idea of how this sort of thing is done and to clarify if I have a life story worthy of anyone’s time. So one minute I think sure why not write my own story it would be good even if I am never published then again I think most of the crap I have been reading is so boring I would not want someone saying “wow did you read her story, it was just awful why on earth would anyone want to read about her life yadda, yadda, yadda!” so since I find it hard to believe my life experiences would be desired knowledge the thought of following through with the suggestion remains daunting for now…..

I have read more then twenty memoirs over the last year (I so wish this was an exaggeration) finally I have found one that was really enjoyable and worth my time. Funny in Farsi has been added to my short list or worthy memoirs. I picked the book up at the library because I recognized Farsi as a Persian language and thought it might be interesting to read. Admittedly I would probably not have recognized the word Farsi had it not been for an old boy friend who is Iranian American (father Persian mother American) my curiosity fully peaked I dumped it into my book bag with about five others, three of which I read (now with regret) before cracking a page of this cute and quirky little book ~ it was a fun read I laughed a lot sometimes belly laughing so hard I had tears in my eyes.

Interestingly enough the day after I picked up the book at the library my Iranian American friend called to catch up on life. We have a strange vibe kinda friendship if you ask me~ if I pray for him he calls, find a book about Iranians in America he calls ~ freaky huh. So anyway I told him of the book and now that I have read it I have visions of spamming him constantly with web links until he reads it ~ it is well worth the read, sadly I doubt he will be running to the local library or bookstore to pick it up.

I think the reason I enjoyed the book so much is that I understood some of the cultural stereotypes exaggerated in the humor of the book. Then there was the descriptions of food that made me want to hop in the car to my new favorite place to eat at the food court in the mall ~ the closest thing to authentic Persian food (run by Iranian’s) I am likely to find around here. Even though it is “fast food” it is really yummy they even added French fries to their menu to appeal to kids…. so sad, I prefer basmati rice with my kabob!

The book was fun because it was cute and sentimental but also because it evoked sweet memories for me, if I think back twenty years I can smell basmati rice steaming on the stove and remember the kitchen table covered in phyllo dough and the smell of baklava wafting through the house. Persian rugs layered everywhere with funky lamps, the decorations in the house comfy with an eclectic Middle Eastern flare. I wont even attempt to describe the sink stopper in the upstairs bathroom. Ok Ann, I can hear you laughing :)

I have seen my friends beautiful mother a couple times over the years she is sweet and thoughtful but I have not seen his father who rarely spoke to me and probably never looked me in the eyes. My memories of him are of him yelling for his son with his thick accent down the stars where we had sequestered ourselves away from adult supervision. When I walked upstairs to make my escape the TV would be blaring and he would peer up over the newspaper briefly watching me leave the house the only thing visible to me was a balding head with curly dark hair on the sides and two hairy arms holding up the newspaper. That’s the most I saw of him unless of course he was looking for his son all too happy to get him away from the Christian girlfriend. To this day I think he sighed with great relief each time I exited his home and moaned upon my return lol ~ which was quite often.

From what I do remember of my friend’s family they are very different then the family in the book, they are much more Americanized most likely because only one parent is from Iran I’m not sure if they would consider this a compliment I do hope it would not be insult. The likelihood of them discovering this blog is slim although I am pretty sure the old BF has a link which he probably never uses (sigh of relief) my memories of them are fond and I would not want to offend them. Anyway the book was fun and brought back many memories forgotten twenty years past and more recently the Persian cooking lessens (can I just say YUM) from my friends cousin when she was going to school here at Miami several years ago. The food the cultural personality quirks and thick accent long forgotten now fresh in my mind.

Firoozeh’s (the author) story was worth writing (and reading) and since we are the same age and have similar memories it was fun but I am still not sure if I have a story. Ok well I do have a story but it so damn pathetic and depressing I find it hard to imagine anyone even believes it is true ~ as I have stated before, it sounds like a horrible Lifetime movie.

Another old BF recently told me (yes I know I am strange they just keep calling and yes were all just friends and no I wont tell you how many call ~ it’s way too scary!) anyway he was explaining the mathematical and statistical improbability of the chaos in my families lives. Well, I had thought of this before but in a so not mathematical way. since I would rather be doing anything but thinking of math including ditch digging and toilet cleaning. being such a literary historian as the old BF is it surprised me that he came up with this highly mathematical thought as well.

So I will continue to ponder the possibility not like it would really hurt to write it all down most of it is in journals hidden from prying eyes and in prayer letters I will continue contemplation and maybe I will do it published of not it would be healthy I suppose hummmm sounds as though I am trying to talk myself into this, time will tell.