First Contact: Be careful what you ask for!

Daily Prompt: First!   October 30,2013

“Tell us about your first day at something — your first day of school, first day of work, first day living on your own, first day blogging, first day as a parent, whatever.”

Since I have had more than 25 jobs, I was in a conundrum when I turned to today’s writing challenge. I vividly remember my first days with alternating shock and awe, depending on the particular job, location, and availability of snacks. I did the usual routine when beginning from scratch. I had a shot of Jack and ripped a page off the Hemingway calendar that graces the hallway. Cute little six-toed cats surrounded the stand-up typewriter in what appears to be the old man’s sun porch.

I combed through the job list, looking for a first day that would be informative, relatable, not too sarcastic and always, because I can’t seem to help it, self-deprecating. I’d already written about myfirst penis,  and my second one for that matter. I wrote about my first concert ,  first MRI. Firsts turns out good for me, ‘I could do this forever,’ I thought.

I looked up the word “first”–as looking up the definition of the word is often the first thing I do.  Everything you’d expect, no inspiration there. I did fall down the Wikipedia hole for a while and learned a whole lot about separation of church and state, when my computer thought I wanted to write about the first amendment of the Constitution. If they had Attention Deficit Disorder diagnoses when I was a kid, I obviously wouldn’t be here now.

I continued to dwell on some of the 25 jobs. Jobs relate to money, and I thought about writing the story of that year I made a bunch of it. That post, when I have the heart to write it, will be called “A dozen money mistakes before thirty” or perhaps, “What an idiot I was.” For the younger reader, refer to Give a Mouse A Cookie.

Next I thought of writing about my first daughter, but how would that make my second daughter feel? I also thought about writing about some firsts in their interesting lives. Would they still speak to me if I did? Would Hemingway resort to an automatic toilet anecdote? I think not. Back to the drawing board.

Jeff, Erin, Artie, Dan and Lindsay.

Artie’s First Family Portrait. The midwife is the only one who had any sleep.

My mind keeps boomeranging to my latest theme, my adoption.  Tiring of the topic, I thought I would view today’s writing prompt. And I found myself right back with George and Bernice.

Always thinking of myself as well adjusted where adoption was concerned, George and Bernice were my “real” parents. It was hard for me to understand fellow adoptees that feel empty or incomplete because they don’t know their first families.

And there I had it, more than halfway through my average post,  what I wanted to write about: first family.

I have a list of things I might ask my first family (just the surface) if the chance befalls me:

  • Is this uncomfortable for you? (I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. Have you read about my first penis?)
  • Am I disrupting your life in anyway? If yes, I’ll go away peacefully. My thirst for knowledge does not out-weigh your current family concerns.
  • Are you glad I’m here? Then we can proceed.
  • What are my jeans like? Do you like the Levis 501’s? Oh! I meant to write genes there, sorry, my bad. What can you tell me about my genes?
  • Can we talk about our medications together? Too soon? Would you like a little Lipitor or perhaps a Zoloft with that tea and crumpets?
  • Speaking of crumpets, I have always had a huge fascination with the Brits. Tell me there’s some royal blood in the fam-that would be awesome!

Here is a little post-it note for our “reunion packet.” In the event that you were hoping I’d drop by, with mixed feelings I sign the mutual consent registry. If you are somewhere looking for me, consider this first contact.

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Thanks for reading! Visit last year’s Halloween post, a nostalgic look at one of my first jobs.


7 thoughts on “First Contact: Be careful what you ask for!

  1. I learned way too late in life that there is, in fact, a “too soon” for discussing one’s medications. Sigh. (I love your blog, Mimsy.)


    • Thanks so much! There was a bunch of alien-esque stuff on the cutting room floor…maybe because while I am at the computer, hubby is often watching “Walking Dead” just over yonder?


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