So last week I was visiting my brother Max and his wife’s blog to view pictures of my niece and I noticed a new blog listed in the blogroll: The Margolian Project. I click. Up pops a blog that my brother Max has apparently been keeping for three weeks. “Ah,” I think, “Mr. stay-at-home dad has decided to start his own blog; one not about his daughter.” I read. He writes about his first obsessions, the ones before his daughter—that is, his pet anxieties: Am I fat? Am I happy? Am I wearing the right shoes? Is the house messy? Should I quit Facebook?
The Margolian Project tagline is “We are seeking brilliance, this is our project.” Yes, brilliance, I think, and then, wait, OUR project? I scroll down, past the list of anxious questions, and see a list of contributors. It reads: Jennifer Margolis, Nicky, Karen, Max . These are my siblings. All of them. All the Margolians, except me. I call my brother. No answer. I write an email.
Subject: WTF
Why have you left me out of the project?
He invites me to join, without explanation. Amusingly, my email with the WTF subject line gets forwarded to the rest of the family and every email we send the following week is tagged Re: WTF. Even the sweet emails between my little sister and brother full of excitement about reminiscing on the new blog begin Re: WTF. I laugh because I remember another series of emails full of f-bombs ands reminiscing that circulated between me and my siblings years ago. We ranted for about week before we realized the Karen Margolis on the list was not our Karen. The other Karen sent us Margolians a terse response, “I don’t know you and I don’t want to know you.” Bitch, we collectively thought, and probably sent her a few more emails before deleting her. I believe this was when Karen first got email, maybe a year or two ago. (Prompt for Karen: My analog life).
My next bit of amusement was the first prompt I got from Max:
Abby’s prompt: I was left out of the project.
Really? I need to come up with reasons you left me out? Honestly, it feels a little cliché for the middle child. Yes, perhaps I have the syndrome, no Max, not your CAS (constant affirmation syndrome), but the Middle Child Syndrome. According to MCS observers and sufferers, middle children often lack a sense of belonging, feel left out of the family, and forgotten. So, yes we slip and fall into cliché, while the rest of the family writes about being Margolian, I, Abby, middle child, am to write about being left out. Here I am stuck in the middle with you.
So what to say more? I’m in. WTF.
very nice---thanks for including me in your post!
ReplyDeleteJust to explain, the project was originally btwn the three unemployed Margoli (Max, Karen and Me) and then Jen wanted to join. You were not intentionally left out. And thanks for including Max in your post.
ReplyDeleteThat sounds like I was intentionally left out. And your welcome.
ReplyDeleteI think "unemployed" was the key word in Nicky's comment. We did not mean to leave anybody out. And I think it's kind of cool how this whole thing has expanded organically. Thank you for the prompt. FYI - it was ten years ago when I finally got an e-mail account. You'll notice there's a prompt for ALL of us embedded in my piece, as well. I think we could have some fun with it!
ReplyDeletekaren: I still can't find your prompt
ReplyDeleteFYI, Karen, I know it was 10 years ago. It was a joke. Now maybe you will get call waiting like dad had 25 years ago on Forbes.
ReplyDeleteThis is all very fun.
Max... I think Inel is the prompt.
I don't read too good
ReplyDeleteWhere are these prompts?
ReplyDelete