Mir from Woulda Coulda Shoulda

by Beverly Tjerngren

Woulda Coulda Shoulda may be a relative newcomer on the blog scene, but it's remarkably free from the awkwardness and "growing pains" that often plague new bloggers. Mir, the brains behind this blog you don't want to miss, writes like a pro, treating us to long daily entries filled with irony, rueful observations, angst, neurosis, and most of all, humor. If there's one thing Mir can do, you see, it's laugh, and she seems to laugh loudest when she laughs at herself. Give her a read, and I guarantee you'll be laughing, too.

Don't make the mistake, however, of thinking that "Woulda Coulda Shoulda" is just a light-hearted romp through the daisies. Mir is one sharp cookie and her insights about family, relationships, and people in general will leave you thinking as much as laughing. She is a talented writer, having won the American Mothers, Inc. essay award in 2002 (they host a creative arts competition every year) -- "I placed first for my state and second nationally," she says. "Actually got money and my picture in the paper and everything. Woo!" She has also been a Blogging for Books winner and she was recently a finalist for The Diarist Awards Best New Blog.

When we were in the planning stages for this issue of Mosaic Minds, I jumped at the chance to find out a bit more about what makes the source of my latest case of blog envy tick, and I fired off an email to Mir asking her to please, please be our Chick Pick this time. Much to my delight, she agreed. We started out with some background information about her education and work history, a bit of how she got from there to here, so to speak.

"Let's see," she says, "I have a history of being in a big hurry when it comes to education. I finished high school in three years, started college, then stopped college and worked for a year, then switched to another college and finished in three years. I was a performance major and really thought when I started that I was going to pursue acting as a career. But, well, then reality hit me over the head and I decided to switch my focus. (In retrospect, one of the biggest driving factors there was that I knew I wanted to have a family, someday, and pounding the pavement in NYC didn't seem very amenable to that.) I ended up with a double major in theatre and psychology."

After she completed her undergraduate studies, Mir worked for a year while applying to graduate schools. "Much to everyone's surprise (especially mine!) I was accepted to Stanford's research psychology Ph.D. program." She goes on to add, in typically Mir-like fashion, "I was accepted lots of other places, too. But I went out to visit? And saw the palm trees? And came home to three feet of snow? And decided it was time to be a California girl."

While at Stanford, Mir developed an interest in human-computer interaction, and ended up dropping out of the program with her Masters to go work at IBM as a human factors engineer.

"I also met and married my husband there," she says as an aside, then adds with a wry grin, "Notice me not making a single editorial comment on THAT."

She stayed at IBM for a couple of years, until her husband finished his Ph.D., and then they decided to move back east. "California, while beautiful and warm, would've made us renters for life, or perhaps the proud owners of a 400-square-foot room." After the move she found work with a government contractor doing the same sort of engineering she had been doing previously. She worked full-time for a couple of years until her daughter was born, then dropped to half-time. About six months after her son was born, she decided to "retire." That was four-and-a-half years ago.

"When we made the decision for me to stay at home, I made it clear to my husband that I wanted to pursue some freelance writing, as I doubted I'd be happy "just" taking care of the kids. For my next birthday, my husband bought me the nicest (as in both the most thoughtful AND most expensive) gift I ever received--a laptop computer. It's still my 'writing computer.'"

Mir explains that her interest in blogging came largely from reading a friend's blog. "My friend Kym, whom I know from a parenting board, started blogging, and I read her blog, and then decided I would start one as well because it looked like fun." In addition to being fun, blogging has also been somewhat therapeutic.

"I started blogging just about a year after my ex moved out. It took about a year to get the divorce finalized and I spent that time heavily involved in Making The Divorce Happen. Then after it was final and it was sort of like I woke up one day and said, 'Okay, now I have to actually figure out how to LIVE MY LIFE as a divorced person.' I'd been a wife and mom for nine years. I was faced with finding the New Me and had no idea where to begin."

"I used to be on blogspot and recently moved off, but it's always been Woulda Coulda Shoulda. I named it after the Shel Silverstein poem of the same title. I was feeling stuck in the past, mired in introspection rather than finding ways to move forward. The last lines of the poem are 'But all those woulda-coulda-shouldas ran away and hid / From one little DID.' I figured the blog would be a good way to indulge my propensity to over-intellectualize everything while forcing me towards accountability for moving on."

One of the best things about "Woulda Coulda Shoulda" is the way that Mir lays it all out, even the painful, non-flattering, upsetting parts of her life. I asked her if she were as open in real life as she is online, or if the relative anonymity of the blogosphere brought out that side of her.

"I have found in my life--repeatedly--that when I really speak my mind, I tend to scare people away," she says. "So on the one hand, yes, I'm outspoken and irreverent in real life, because that's just who I am. But on the other hand, the blog allows me to indulge my most extreme self in ways that I don't in regular face-to-face dealings with folks."

She continues, thoughtfully, "Most of it is not due to the anonymity, but rather that instead of dumping everything on ONE person, as I might in real life, I just put it out there on the blog and folks find it entertaining rather than burdensome, because I'm not right in their faces, I guess, and they can choose not to take anything personally."

Faithful readers will notice that there are at least a few people from Mir's real life--among them her parents--who read "Woulda Coulda Shoulda" regularly. I wondered if she ever felt self-conscious writing in such detail about her personal life. How much, I asked, if at all, does she censor herself because of who she knows might be reading?

"I definitely do censor myself because my parents and various real-life friends read me, but not a whole lot. It's more of a handy reminder that I shouldn't be saying anything I'd be embarrassed for those who love me to read. So, sure, I may write at length about my various 'female issues' (a conversation I most likely wouldn't HAVE with my father, face-to-face, but I don't consider that something that reflects badly on me, I guess), but you're never going to read a post from me about how I had wild monkey sex last night." She pauses, then continues, "Mostly because there is no wild monkey sex in my life right now, but also because that's not the sort of thing I'd feel comfortable having people read."

I asked then if Mir would say that she writes primarily for herself or for her readers. If she didn't have an audience, I wanted to know, would she still keep a journal? Would it be as satisfying?

"My writing is self-serving in many ways," she answers. "I want to hone my skills (such as they are), and that comes in large part with continued practice. Also my blog has served as an unequalled outlet for me in a time of my life that has been really tumultuous. All of that is for ME."

"But," she elaborates, "I started a blog rather than journalling offline because I wanted the accountability. I wanted to feel an obligation to write even when I don't "feel" like it. (I have journalled, off and on, most of my life. But often when times get tough I stop writing. This blog is the first time I've been "forced" to write through the crap instead of just stopping.)"

"And the audience is IMMENSELY satisfying! Humor has always been an important part of my life; you can laugh or you can cry, as they say. I have long turned to humor to get me through things; sometimes it's a defense mechanism, sometimes it's a coping mechanism. Knowing that I'm able to make other people laugh even when I'm struggling is incredibly gratifying. It's intrinsically gratifying to know that people appreciate my writing, of course ('they like me! they really like me!'), but it also helps me to take everything with a grain of salt. If I can laugh at it, most likely it's not as dire as I first thought. And the fact that people who come here for the humor are still with me through the less-humorous stuff reminds me that I don't have to be funny all the time. I can just be ME; funny, goofy, ridiculous, irreverent--sure--but real, fragile, sensitive, sometimes, too... and it's all good. It's all who I am. And it's okay. Blogging has really been a tool in helping me to accept ALL of me."

On a final note, I asked Mir to tell us a little about her off-screen life, as it were. She is, after all, a busy single mom with two small children, and she has other, more pressing concerns and commitments than keeping all of us readers entertained.

"In addition to writing, I drink a lot. (KIDDING.) I used to crochet, but not so much anymore. I am very active in my church; I sing in the choir and am also a commissioned Stephen Minister (to earn commissioning one must go through 50 hours of training; learn more at Stephen Ministries."

"A few years ago I learned how to decorate cakes and now do that at least twice a year for my kids' birthdays. I love to bargain hunt and went through a phase of doing a lot of selling on eBay, but nowadays I mostly only sell what the kids have outgrown. I love to cook but the kids aren't exactly gourmets, so my fancy entrees have given way to things like baking muffins (with lots of 'help')".