| I'm in Ann Arbor at a wedding. Well, the wedding was yesterday, but you know what I mean. We've had wedding festivities all weekend. Friday evening was the rehearsal dinner, Saturday evening the wedding, and this morning is a Sunday brunch. At the wedding, we pretty much stuck to ourselves, trying to control our children. But on Friday, we had a wonderful buffet at a private house on a lake and we got to use our cocktail party narratives. You know which ones I mean: where are you from (esp. since bride and groom currently live in San Francisco, lived in Ann Arbor, and the bride grew up in NC), what do you do, how do you know B&G? So I got to say a lot that the first words I heard the bride say were "No, no, Jeffrey, we don't eat sand!" to her 7mo and that we reconnected after she stalked me on my LJ for 6 months without telling me. And I got to give the "South Africa, NJ, MI, NC" spiel I always have to give about where I'm from. But my "what do you do?" narrative has changed significantly, and I didn't realize it.
It's easy to begin with, right? "I'm a college professor. I teach English." But then this crowd is educated enough to ask me what my specialty is, and that's changed. I now have to say, "Well, I was trained in the 18thC novel. My dissertation was on Romantic-era British women novelists, Jane Austen most specifically. I look mainly at how women novelists write their male characters. But now I'm working mostly on modern popular romance narratives." And "I've started a new academic organization with a journal" makes an appearance now and then, too. And the defense of the genre with numbers and money shows up a bit. And it's all pretty exciting.
But then there's also "I was in the National Guard for seven and a half years." And that one's a little difficult.
How often do your personal narratives change? |