Hello world! This is Jo March coming at you live from my dingy carpet surrounded by nothing but my four walls of independence. This blog focuses on my move from small town New England to big time Manhattan; on writing; on pursuing terrifying dreams; on flying; on failing-- on me. For those of you reading this that aren't my mother, let me play catch-up.
I was raised outside of Concord, Massachusetts where my life is a series of Norman Rockwell paintings and no one seems to mind. It would be impossible to share about myself without sharing about my family. See, the March family is a terrifying tribe that is constantly "commotion and awful screeching" as my great aunt would say. Any space to breath or build privacy is immediately torn down and filled with each other. I wouldn't have it any other way.
My dad is a General in the Army and has completed his 5th tour in the Middle East. While we all miss our strong leader, I fully understand feeling as if one's body isn't big enough for all of one's spirit. Sitting behind would be a death sentence to him and a crime to those he serves.
Our family patriarch is headed by Marmie, 2015's Rosie the Riveter, Wonder Women, and Lizzy Bennett rolled into one beautiful ball that is sprinkled with though love. She is the social work queen and raised us to share our meals with the homeless and our time with every person; black, white, and any color in-between. To give a small insight into Marmie's parenting style I'll leave you with her favorite word to the wise she tells strangers: "Stop telling girls they can be anything they want when they grow up. Not because they can't, but because it would have never occurred to them they couldn't." Please take a moment to note where my inappropriate outburst may stem from.
Next comes the followers of the March tribe. The people who make up the clan. My sisters. Meg, Beth, and Amy. Meg is the eldest and as all eldest children she has received that secret injection upon birth that causes her to emulate perfection from every section of her being. It is quite sickening really. The only thing Meg loves more than rules is reminding me how bad I am at following them. While I spent time in drama club and in the yearbook room, Meg was the cheer captain and prom queen to her now fiancee, John Brooke. If I didn't know these two were perfect together I would vomit at the instant sight of them. Let's just say they are the couple who is taking all of their college classes together because they are afraid of missing each other too much. If you wanted to be inspired to write the next great soap opera then you should have hung around my house three years ago. The common conversation went something like this:
Parents: Meg, you are to young to be married. You aren't even 20. You can't realistically afford this decision. If you love John now, you'll love him the same in five years.
Meg: I can't wait. I love John. I don't need your permission. I am going to elope. *runs away crying and slams door*
And there you have it folks. The recipe for the next General Hospital. While there is nothing I want for my dear sisters to be happy, I can't help but want to push Meg out the door, to scream at her to run, to avoid the trap that is Massachusetts high school sweetheart turned room mom to the next prom Queen. We all have different ambitions I suppose.
Next is me! More to come later. Then there is sweet Beth, my Irish twin and confidant. If a porcelain doll could come to life it would take the form of Beth. The glue to our family Beth is that creature who radiates peace and happiness with only her smile. We are fire and ice but glued together at the side. Being away from Beth is the hardest thing I've ever had to do. During middle school Beth got a bad case of swine flu that weakened her immune system for a while. I always say that their is strength in everyone. Beth spits fire from her fingers every time she touches the keys of her grand piano. It wouldn't be a March household without the thundering notes of her music.
Last but not last is little Amy. A junior in high school that has been longing to be part of the royal monarchy since she was two. Carly Simon's "Your So Vain" is the theme song of her life and she struts to it proudly. For as much as we love to tease our baby, she will most likely be the next Picasso seeing as she is already invited at 17 to spend her summer studying art in Paris. Of course my great Aunt March, aka president of the anti-Jo March club, is using her burrowed fortune to make sure Amy comes out on top. Great Aunt March see's Amy as the shining hope for our "dismal" family who fell from her high memories of society grandeur. I spent high school every Saturday as Aunt March's companion. Every Saturday. She picked Amy. Needless to say I am pissed at my stolen European adventure. Then I remember Amy is stuck with Great Aunt March and I do laugh a little.
Amy's trip is a large part of why I made the leap to New York. At 17 she was swept off her feet to live the dream I have been waiting to live. No more would I wait in my home-town college and hope adventure will find me. I am taking this semester off to get settled in NY, make money, and prepare to start as a full-time student at NYU. Nannying is my ticket to tuition and tuition is my ticket to my dreams. A place where creativity is fostered and classes that will help me to become a writer, actor, politician, and activist. It's a place where I get to be me. Simply Jo.
I was raised outside of Concord, Massachusetts where my life is a series of Norman Rockwell paintings and no one seems to mind. It would be impossible to share about myself without sharing about my family. See, the March family is a terrifying tribe that is constantly "commotion and awful screeching" as my great aunt would say. Any space to breath or build privacy is immediately torn down and filled with each other. I wouldn't have it any other way.
My dad is a General in the Army and has completed his 5th tour in the Middle East. While we all miss our strong leader, I fully understand feeling as if one's body isn't big enough for all of one's spirit. Sitting behind would be a death sentence to him and a crime to those he serves.
Our family patriarch is headed by Marmie, 2015's Rosie the Riveter, Wonder Women, and Lizzy Bennett rolled into one beautiful ball that is sprinkled with though love. She is the social work queen and raised us to share our meals with the homeless and our time with every person; black, white, and any color in-between. To give a small insight into Marmie's parenting style I'll leave you with her favorite word to the wise she tells strangers: "Stop telling girls they can be anything they want when they grow up. Not because they can't, but because it would have never occurred to them they couldn't." Please take a moment to note where my inappropriate outburst may stem from.
Next comes the followers of the March tribe. The people who make up the clan. My sisters. Meg, Beth, and Amy. Meg is the eldest and as all eldest children she has received that secret injection upon birth that causes her to emulate perfection from every section of her being. It is quite sickening really. The only thing Meg loves more than rules is reminding me how bad I am at following them. While I spent time in drama club and in the yearbook room, Meg was the cheer captain and prom queen to her now fiancee, John Brooke. If I didn't know these two were perfect together I would vomit at the instant sight of them. Let's just say they are the couple who is taking all of their college classes together because they are afraid of missing each other too much. If you wanted to be inspired to write the next great soap opera then you should have hung around my house three years ago. The common conversation went something like this:
Parents: Meg, you are to young to be married. You aren't even 20. You can't realistically afford this decision. If you love John now, you'll love him the same in five years.
Meg: I can't wait. I love John. I don't need your permission. I am going to elope. *runs away crying and slams door*
And there you have it folks. The recipe for the next General Hospital. While there is nothing I want for my dear sisters to be happy, I can't help but want to push Meg out the door, to scream at her to run, to avoid the trap that is Massachusetts high school sweetheart turned room mom to the next prom Queen. We all have different ambitions I suppose.
Next is me! More to come later. Then there is sweet Beth, my Irish twin and confidant. If a porcelain doll could come to life it would take the form of Beth. The glue to our family Beth is that creature who radiates peace and happiness with only her smile. We are fire and ice but glued together at the side. Being away from Beth is the hardest thing I've ever had to do. During middle school Beth got a bad case of swine flu that weakened her immune system for a while. I always say that their is strength in everyone. Beth spits fire from her fingers every time she touches the keys of her grand piano. It wouldn't be a March household without the thundering notes of her music.
Last but not last is little Amy. A junior in high school that has been longing to be part of the royal monarchy since she was two. Carly Simon's "Your So Vain" is the theme song of her life and she struts to it proudly. For as much as we love to tease our baby, she will most likely be the next Picasso seeing as she is already invited at 17 to spend her summer studying art in Paris. Of course my great Aunt March, aka president of the anti-Jo March club, is using her burrowed fortune to make sure Amy comes out on top. Great Aunt March see's Amy as the shining hope for our "dismal" family who fell from her high memories of society grandeur. I spent high school every Saturday as Aunt March's companion. Every Saturday. She picked Amy. Needless to say I am pissed at my stolen European adventure. Then I remember Amy is stuck with Great Aunt March and I do laugh a little.
Amy's trip is a large part of why I made the leap to New York. At 17 she was swept off her feet to live the dream I have been waiting to live. No more would I wait in my home-town college and hope adventure will find me. I am taking this semester off to get settled in NY, make money, and prepare to start as a full-time student at NYU. Nannying is my ticket to tuition and tuition is my ticket to my dreams. A place where creativity is fostered and classes that will help me to become a writer, actor, politician, and activist. It's a place where I get to be me. Simply Jo.