Sunday, August 24, 2014

a note about 'notes.'

When I first started this blog in 2009, I was writing every post in a coffee shop, whether it was the campus Starbucks, the Peet's across the street, or the Cyber A Cafe outside of my work. Occasionally I'd sneak in some writing at the library or in between classes or in my apartment while Andrea and I watched America's Next Top Model. It sounds a bit cliché (a writer in a coffee shop--not a novel concept), but the coffee shop was where I felt most comfortable.

As I grew as a writer (and am still growing!), I had more ideas and more thoughts in the most random of places--in the kitchen while cooking (er, microwaving...) dinner! In line at the grocery store! On public transport! My notes from a coffee shop were becoming notes from everyday life...which, frankly, is exactly what I'd always hoped it would be. (Hence the silly "disclaimer" on my About page.)

But by now, you're already familiar with my inability to really follow through on projects. I tend to start a lot of things, and then taper off. Writing every day, for example, as I'd said I was going to do this year--hasn't quite happened. I start a lot of posts and scribble down thoughts on paper or in drafts that never make it to the blog. Life is so extraordinarily vast that I was frantic to write anywhere and everywhere, and then it would overwhelm me and I'd stop.

I know--blaming "life" for not blogging often is weak.

Saturday, August 23, 2014

ticket for one.

Don Draper gets it.
I really enjoy going to the movies alone.

You probably read that and immediately thought, "That's pathetic" or "Me too!" The truth is: either opinion is totally fine by me. I used to hate doing things alone, especially going to the movies or anything that was public. But since leaving college and hopping across the country alone while moving from busy suburbs to busy cities, I've come to appreciate alone time in any form.

Especially in a "can't stop, won't stop" city like New York City, it's too easy to consider your apartment or your room the only place you can every truly be alone. I think it's very possible to be alone while also being surrounded by people. The subway is a prime example: most commuters have headphones in or their consumed by their phones or tablets, ignoring the crowd around them. I know I'm guilty of this too--but just because I'm squished up against five or six people doesn't mean I want to have a conversation.

Call me anti-social, but I think, deep down, you agree.

Wednesday, August 20, 2014

not-so-quick fixes.

A fork in the road. Literally.
Learning how to unclog a slow-draining sink in college was the most useful--and irritating--skills I picked up while living in an apartment. The natural fix, as you probably know, is to pour a combination of baking soda and vinegar down the drain (creating a "volcano" effect), wait about 10 minutes, and then pour hot water to wash it down. If the clog is more severe, then that's when you break out the tools. Repeat again, if necessary.

It's simple, but it requires patience, and you never know if it will fix your problems entirely. It might require more attention, or perhaps it becomes a consistent problem and will need more than just your usual solution. Or maybe it'll be two years before a problem springs up again--you just don't know.

One thing's for sure: if you sit and wait for it to fix itself, you'll be waiting for a very long time.

A couple months ago, I poured metaphorical baking soda and vinegar down the metaphorical drain of life and waited to see what would happen. I'd been feeling, for months, that someone had hit the 'pause' button on my life, and I was just wasting time, waiting for someone else to hit 'play.'

And then I decided that was dumb, and if you want your life to change, then do something to change it.

Tuesday, August 12, 2014

'words and ideas can change the world.'

I was 12 years old. I remember banging on the bathroom door, shouting for her to open up. She was crying, I was angry--truthfully, I was annoyed. I knew the bullying was bad but that day it reached new highs. She kept saying if she had a hit list she would put herself at the top. I couldn't understand it--why would anyone choose death? Suicide just wasn't something that happened, it didn't make sense. But of course it happened (it happened to my great-grandmother, after all). Of course it didn't make sense. "Don't be selfish!" I shouted through the closed door. Eventually she gave in, and we moved on and never spoke about it again. She survived, and years later so would I when roles were reversed and I needed a guardian angel to tell me not to go. The voices of our inner demons are loud and can be overwhelming. Sometimes you just really need that one voice that's louder than the rest to convince you that you matter--that you're important, that you're special and unique and "the world would not be the same if you had not been born into it."

Sunday, August 10, 2014

the way we (don't) write - pt. 2.

I am absolutely obsessed with the idea of "creating," and completely overwhelmed with the possibility of a real, concrete product. In a bad way -- I don't think I'm really all that good at finishing projects I start. (If you know me well, this is not a surprise at all.)

But I have the time these days to really get back to writing, which is something I love and yet never do these days. And perhaps it goes back to those familiar self-conscious thoughts: What if so-and-so reads this and judges me? What if it comes off as narcissistic and vain? What if I'm really boring and nobody reads it?

Message to self: get over it.

If I'm going to tell others to constantly be writing and blogging and using their unique voices to tell their unique stories, then I should get down from my soapbox for an hour and actually act on my own words.

Anyways. More interesting things to come soon ("interesting" being subjective, of course). Here's a song to keep you occupied: