Tag Archives: #michigan

Keep Calm and Write On!

28 Sep

IMG_2916

I went back to college.

Not really.  I wish. But I visited Ann Arbor, where I spent four years studying the likes of Chaucer, Pope, Shakespeare. Immersing myself in literature so beautiful I cried. Reading book after book I never wanted to end. What a privilege those four years were. Rather than constructing dry essays on economics, statistics, or arcane psychology theories, I dissected Arthurian literature, found endless examples of Christ symbolism, and even flirted with the idea of becoming an English professor.

Instead, I went to law school. And then I litigated for years where I constructed dry memoranda of law and motions involving arcane issues of product liability law, lead paint poisoning litigation, medical malpractice defense and other exciting topics.

I still continued to study and write screenplays, sketches, articles, and, of course, countless tweets and status updates.

Missing the good stuff, however, the writing that weaves a story out of a tiny detail or sentence, the kind of prose that makes a reader feel something, the type of material that prompts your heart to literally beat, I started this here blog. And I love it.

I need to feel more of this. For my husband, my kids, and most of all, me. It makes me feel whole and multi-dimensional and, perhaps, younger.

I can’t return to college. Indeed, Michigan does seem like a dream to me now. So I am engineering a way for college to return to me.

As of now, I am privately tutoring those needing help with writing. Particularly, college entrance essays (!) Please contact me directly for further inquiries and/or appointments.

I will still be writing independent of this little gig, but I am really looking forward to this as a diversion that I have already started to enjoy.

I am genuinely excited to help others tell their stories. After all, each of us has one. We should revel in it.

Advertisements

Ann Arbor’s Smartest

20 Apr

um

I was always attracted to intelligent, semitic-looking guys. They didn’t have to be particularly handsome; just super smart. (And if any old boyfriends happen to be reading this–you’re gorgeous; I am definitely not talking about you.) Nothing turned me on more than a cerebral, dark-featured guy with a pair of eyeglasses. Thankfully, the University of Michigan admitted tons of them.

One day, in a class that focused solely on Chaucer, a boy who I never noticed, raised his hand and interpreted an Old English phrase with alarming ease. He was no looker but my goodness, he was bright. At some point, I won his attention and we went on a date.

After dinner, he walked me back to my sorority house. It was a chilly, clear night, even for hormonal 19 year olds.

“Lisa, I truly believe that I am the smartest person in the whole school.”

He leaned in for a kiss. I was intrigued. Not by him. But by his admission.

“Wait. Undergrad or the whole school?

“The whole school.”

He leaned in again. I backed away. I was not personally offended that he thought himself brighter than me. Frankly, I was happy merely to gain entrance to the University of Michigan, my #2 choice (#1 choice Northwestern can suck it). Rather, I was floored by his swagger.

“There’s 30,000 people here. You think you’re smarter than all 30,000 people? The Med School students? The Law School is in the top 5 in the country.”

“Yes, I have no doubt that I am the smartest person here. I am taking Russian just to read Dostoevsky in its natural print. Are you free tomorrow night?”

I wasn’t free. I was turned off. The fact that I later learned he had to routinely have a fraternity brother shave his neck didn’t help either.

We didn’t go out again although he did stalk me for three years, even once professing that he was in love with me. He couldn’t have been that smart because I told him many times that I was not interested. Senior year he refused to talk to me altogether and that was okay too.

After all, it was only one date and there were approximately 15,000 other less intelligent women to court.

After college I learned he only graduated cum laude. And hey, so did I.