Tag Archives: My Real Memoir

Slowly Drowning With No One “Up Top”

Posted on April 29, 2025 by mitchteemley

“Deep Sea Diver” by TolyanMy My Real Memoir I was busy, but not fulfilled. When I wasn’t writing, directing, acting, or falling in love, I felt empty, isolated. My big little academy The Newport Institute of the Arts had become a turnkey … Continue reading →

Posted in Culture, Humor, Memoir, Religion and Faith | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 38 Comments

I Did My Own Thing (and They Weren’t Impressed)

Posted on April 22, 2025 by mitchteemley

George, mime instructor at The Newport Institute of the Arts, 1975 My Real Memoir I was obsessive, proud, and doggedly devoted to dancing to my own tune. And all I asked in return was unlimited love and admiration. I’d learned as a … Continue reading →

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Falling Into My Pit of Pain

Posted on April 15, 2025 by mitchteemley

I have a high pain threshold. Hence, I barely notice small injuries. As I type this, I’m glancing down at a scab on my arm that’s bled several times. And yet I never even noticed the incident that caused it. … Continue reading →

Posted in Culture, Humor, Memoir | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 95 Comments

Is This the Mother of All Colds?

Posted on April 8, 2025 by mitchteemley

Today’s episode of My Real Memoir has been interrupted by Reality One-Oh-No. My wife and I returned late last night from what should have been a joyful trip to L.A. And it was. Sort of. We attended our niece’s wedding … Continue reading →

Posted in Culture, Humor, Memoir | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 90 Comments

Welcome to the Broken Hearts Club

Posted on April 1, 2025 by mitchteemley

Image by Obsidian Planet My Real Memoir I’d done the right thing, right? Saying no to an affair with a blazing hot married woman had to be fairly high on the virtuosity scale. But I didn’t feel virtuous, I felt lonely. Ruby had … Continue reading →

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Having a Conscience Is So Inconvenient

Posted on March 25, 2025 by mitchteemley

My Real Memoir I was still running my little school of the arts (and secretly living in a back room there) while attending Drama grad school. I wanted to direct. But because of my eleventh hour application, I’d been shoehorned in as … Continue reading →

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Putting My Search for Meaning On Hold

Posted on March 11, 2025 by mitchteemley

My Real Memoir I’d been admitted, I discovered, to one of the top drama schools in the country. The “Welcome Theatre Majors! Party” at a wealthy alumna’s pad, revealed two other things: they could drink and they could think. If they’d been … Continue reading →

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Moving Out and Moving On

Posted on March 4, 2025 by mitchteemley

Photo by Mantas Hesthaven My Real Memoir Being the director of a bohemian arts academy, at age twenty-five, gave me a certain “successful young artist” veneer. I barely made rent, but I dated a lot of our students. Pauline wasn’t a stunner, but … Continue reading →

Posted in Humor, Memoir | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 24 Comments

My Secret Search for That Missing Something

Posted on February 25, 2025 by mitchteemley

Photo by Marco Carmona My Real Memoir I was a romanticist who was disappointed in romance, an idealist who was disappointed in his ideals. I’d once seen a hippy-ish movie about Francis of Assisi, and thought about him now. Like Francis, I … Continue reading →

Posted in Humor, Memoir | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 21 Comments

Love, Longing, and the Absurdity of Life

Posted on February 18, 2025 by mitchteemley

My Real Memoir Following the break-up with the girl I loved, my existential crisis escaped from the cellar, and began raging about the house again. Who was I? Why was I? These were the questions that drove existentialists to despair. Therefore, I’d … Continue reading →

Posted in Humor, Memoir, Writing and Blogging | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 22 Comments