Tag Archives: life

For Reals

We’ve established that I’m horrible at blogging. In an effort to get better, here are some random happenings:

  • Some bratty kid kicked my dog at the pet store the other day.  Just walked right up and kicked her.  Then the parents SORTA said “sorry” before picking up the kid, hugging her and telling her it was okay.  Um, no… it’s NOT OK!  As my friend said: “that’s how serial killers start.”
  • I’m thinking about getting a bike.  There’s a local bike co-op. I think I’ll go tomorrow and see about getting a bike.  I want to bike for a number of reasons:  exercise, transportation, saving the environment.  Those are good enough reasons, dontcha think?
  • We’re learning to write for the web at work.  I’m trying to use the tools to start an intra-staff blog. We’ll see what happens.  It’s amazing how little people know about this crazy new internet thing.  Even the developers.  Weird.
  • I’m hating that WordPress took away the “insert image” link.  Now I have to add it as “media”?  WTF?  I liked it better when I could just steal from someone else.  I guess that’s the point, huh?
  • I finished a book this month.   Which doesn’t sound like it should be THAT big of an accomplishment, but I’m still reading On the Road from May.  Just can’t get into it. I really want to like it.  It’s got sex.  It’s got drugs.  It’s got counter-culture.  But I’m just not as into it as I want to be. 
  • I’m also reading a book about Web 2.0 (or Web Twenty as the cool kids are calling it).  Very interesting.  I’ll post a review when I’m done.

If a Tree Falls in the Blogosphere…

Does anyone hear it?? I’ve completely neglected this blog. Not because nothing interesting has happened. In fact, TONS of interesting stuff has happened in the last couple of weeks. But in a bad way.

No, I’ve been absent for a number of other reasons a) i’ve been dealing with other stuff that I’m not sure I want to share with the world, however anonymously b) it appears people are only coming to the blog for photos and c) I just haven’t felt the need to write.

When I decided to start this blog, I thought it would be a fun way to write about stuff I didn’t feel comfortable sharing on my mySpace blog. For that reason, I didn’t promote it to my friends and family, I don’t have pictures or links to the “real” me… I guess I (vainly) thought blogging was like Field of Dreams; If you blog it, they will come.

But I realize now that having a successful blog takes commitment… daily writing, interesting posts, promotion. I guess I could do that. If nothing else, I need to get back to posting every day. But do I really want to go through the work to promote my blog? Especially since I don’t know what I’m writing about? Or why?

The other challenge is how much personal stuff to share… 99% of the things I want to write about have to do with friends/family/coworkers…. but I don’t want to give too much away.

Anyway, this is a long meandering post. . . with very little resolution. Maybe I’ll figure it out one day.

I’m Thinking Of…

My friend who lost his dad…  He was only 60 years old. An alcoholic, but a good guy.  And his mom died years ago.  Now my friend doesn’t have *any* parents.  What’s that like at 29? I mean, my MOM still has a mother.  Yeah, she has Alzheimer’s and is in the hospital right now.  But she’s still alive.  Shit, my DAD still has a mother  and he’s almost 65.  Why does my grandma get to live until she’s 90 while this guy’s dad kicks the bucket at 60????

What’s it like being 29 years old and an orphan?  Especially when you don’t have a very close relationship with your sister?  As a side note, my brother just said: “and it’s not like he’s close to his sister.”  That kinda made me all warm and fuzzy inside.  Like my bro realizes what we have is special.

Back to what I’m thinking of. Mortality. Death. The futility of life.  But, it is what you make of it, right?  I don’t want to turn out like that poor soul.  Alcoholic and alone.  But, what am I right now?  Alone and drunk with 3 dogs running around and my *mom* delivering me Taco Bell!  Is that pathetic?  

I don’t usually sit around drinking by myself, but I figured I had nothing better to do.  Does this mean that in 11  years my kids are gonna find me passed out in a diabetic coma?  Are the papers gonna get my survivors’ names wrong?  What will my legacy be?   Let’s hope it’s not this.

Wow… that’s some deep shit.  All because of drunken web surfing. 

Permanent Adolescence

I’m not 100% sure where this post will take me, but I’ve had a bunch of thoughts running through my head the last few days and I feel the need to get them out.  Maybe I’ll edit it later.  Maybe not.

I wrote a list of “things to do with my life” on the plane the other day.  I couldn’t find a piece of paper so I found an ad in my magazine with the most amount of white space and just started furiously writing… curiously enough, the ad was for Ketel One vodka.  I’m sure that’s somehow significant.  If I can get to a scanner, I’ll post it.  Very interesting.

I don’t know what my problem is.  I’m not unhappy. I’m not depressed.  I’m not anxious.  I’m just, well, restless.  I feel like life is passing me by and that there has to be something more fun/exciting/INTERESTING to do.  But I don’t know what it is.

I feel like I’m in a permanent adolescence.  I keep WAITING for my life to start.  To “happen.”   I spent my high school years working towards getting into college.  In college, I spent time working towards getting a “good job”  in the “real world.”  Now that I have that, I want more.  But what, exactly, do I want?

A boyfriend?

A different job?


I honestly don’t know.  I don’t think just another job/change of pace is going to be enough.  I feel like I need a whole different lifestyle.  A different ME.   Maybe that’s what it is… I’m bored with myself.

Ugh.  What a horrible thought.

I knew I was bored.  Lately I’ve been finding my work boring, my friends boring, even my “fun” boring… but have *I* become boring to myself as well?   And is there anything worse that boring YOURSELF?

I realize there are real problems in this world, but I feel like I’m just spinning my wheels waiting for something to happen to me.    Yeah, I have a lot of “fun.”  I have great friends, lots of plans… but am I using that just to bide my time?  Where is the meaning?

Lately I’ve been thinking I should go back to school. Become an academic.  I just think that world is better suited to me.  But I don’t have anything I like well enough to devote that much time to it.  Maybe my practicality is getting the better of me.

Then I think maybe I’ll follow my long-lost dream of joining the Peace Corps. It’s only 2 years.  But then WHAT?  Will I be 2 years “behind”?  Will what I gain from that experience make up for all that I’ll be missing here?

There’s that famous quote (maybe from Elanor Roosevelt?) about doing something every day that scares you.  Have I become so complacent that I’m not working with “the Fear” anymore?  What’s the worst that would happen to me?

I need an adventure. Something I can really sink my teeth into.  Not staining the fence or painting the garage.  Not going on a solo trip out East (although I’m seriously reconsidering that one at this point).  I need to do something meaningful… adventurous… interesting.

Do I sound like a broken record yet? It’s the same old thing… but I don’t know where to start. I guess the fact that there’s no “magic” answer is what’s killing me.  There’s no playbook.  No script.  I’ve been following the predetermined script of my life for so long, I don’t know how to get off.  I just mixed my metaphors.  But you know what I mean.

I sound like a whiny bitch.  I get it.  But maybe just recognizing the problem will bring me one step closer to solving it.  Whatever that means.

Freewriting from Atlanta

I shoulda gone to the gym this morning.  Instead I chose to sleep.  Last night was super duper fun.  That’s right–super duper!   We ate.  We drank.  We played cards.  I won. 

The restaurant we went to last night was called Eclipse di Luna.  Great for tapas.

I feel like these freewrites are a broken record, but as I was lying in bed this morning, I was thinking of all the things I could do to spice up my life.  Go back to school.  Become an academic.  Join the Peace Corps.  Get serious about writing (and not just blogging about writing–that’s lame).   I have these ideas/thoughts in the morning and then I get on with my day and give them up.

I need a plan.  A deadline.  I need to say that by X date I’m going to research all my options and make a decision.

On another (broken record) note… I once again realized how much cooler other people are than I am.  I wish I had known about the world of academia earlier ‘cuz I think I totally would have been good at it.  And maybe I still can.  I just don’t know what I’d want to study.

I chose my undergrad major while flipping through a college catalog in the bathroom.  Sexy, huh?  Maybe I should just get a dartboard or something and choose my PhD program that way.

I need to conquer my fears.  When people are afraid of heights they make them go skydiving or something.  My fear is failure.  In order to conquer the fear, do I need to fail first?   Hmmm….  or as L would say  “Hrmph…”