Blah.

It seems that every March/April I start to think about how much I weigh again. I got on a scale and it was considerably more than I thought. Especially since I've been cutting back on food a lot in the past two months or so. I haven't been working out as regularly, so maybe that's why the scale isn't making me super happy right now. Whatever!

I love spring. I love that it's getting warmer and the days are longer. It makes me happy.

Also, I want to stop writing for Suite101. I don't really enjoy it. I just like having my name out there and being able to say, "I write for a website." Lame, I know.

I have nothing more to report. I'm going to watch tv and lie down for a bit before going for a run.

Peace out.

First official rejection . . .

I'm used to being rejected. After being rejected most of your childhood for being fat, smart, and generally different from your peers, you realize that acceptance is sorta bullshit. Like, of course I identified with and internalized everything I was rejected for being, but I also knew it was unfair and, frankly, stupid. I realized that the basis for rejection doesn't always have anything to do with you. You can't take it personally.

So I got my first official rejection for an idea I pitched to Seventeen magazine. I sent my query a couple of weeks ago and was expecting to not hear ANYTHING back, but I just received an official rejection letter and it made me feel good because someone actually read what I wrote. Granted, they were probably a poor intern, but still. Someone is listening! And it is encouraging!

A lot of writers I admire have been rejected numerous times before they've been accepted and I feel as though I'm in good company. My big break will happen. I just have to keep at it. Now I will query more and more.

AWESOME!

I have gotten another e-mail from someone who liked an article I wrote almost a year ago about Obama. She wants to use it in her classes that she teaches on race. Stuff like that makes me happy. At least my stuff is getting out there.

Money will follow . . .haha.

Depressed.

I knew when I walked away from corporate security in September 2007 that the road ahead of me would be difficult and unpredictable. I've tried countless other day jobs since then and have felt no better than before. I've tried NYC again and, presumably, failed. I'm worn out. I'm tired. I am just so tired.

I feel shallow and conflicted because I want to be making a lot more money. I NEED to be making a lot more money. As it is, I can't even afford the minimalist lifestyle I'm already living. I thought I'd have my shit together by 24. I thought I'd be independent and happy.

I don't feel like talking to anyone about it. I don't like hearing other success stories of friends and co-workers. I'm insanely jealous of people with independence and money.

So what did I do? I trusted in this elusive concept of doing what I love and feeling happy, but it's leaving me feeling so behind, so alone and so sad. So remorseful. So lost.

I don't know how I'm even going to cover my bills I already have. It's maddening and scary.

I got another writing gig which is going to get my name out there. Whether or not I'll be making any money is another story. I hope so. I'm still trying to get more writing gigs. I'm still trying to get my name out there.

I just want my own space. I want to have a job. I want to do my own grocery shopping again. I want to feel capable. I want to feel like an adult.

I know I've been bitching and complaining on this blog for the past year almost. It's strayed so much from what I wanted it to be, but it's still about me figuring out life. It's still about me figuring out who I am and , more oftentimes, who I am not.

I have a long couple of days with Inauguration and such. Let's go OBAMA! Exciting time. :)

'Till next time . . .

A

Writing and Me

Writing makes me happy. I'm good at it and I love doing it. I want to be a writer. Sure, I wanted to be a rock star too, but I've always wanted to write. I wanted to publish my own magazine. I want to write books. I want to write op-ed pieces. I don't want to work for anyone. I want to get my shit out there. That's what I want. That's what I live for.

But why is it that when given the opportunity, I'd rather watch bad reality television? I don't get it. This line of work is NOT easy because you have to do EVERYTHING. The time you spend actually writing is very little. Most of your time is spent trying to acquire writing gigs.

I really want to be in NYC. I just don't get why I didn't land this last job after two successful interviews. I have not gotten a solid "no" yet, but I heard the position was already filled. I sent an e-mail to HR and they said it is still open. I just don't get it. But the truth is, I would be using this job as a stepping stone to NYC and other things. Networking mostly. But I want it. I want NYC. I want young, motivated, trendy, fun people. I want it all.

So today I'm writing a little bit. I also plan on working out a little. Watching a little more bad reality tv.

Until next time . . .

Joy and happiness

When other people find comfort and happiness in my writing, or even a "hmmmmm" as a result of something I've said, it makes me feel good. Joy. Contentment.

I have finally been PAID for my writing and I feel joy. Contentment. Happiness.

I've seen my name "in print" online, but never on a page I can hold in my hand, but not printed by me. Published in the old fashioned way, if you will. I want that.

So I know which road(s) I must follow. Easier said than done. But I've done this much so far, the rest should be easy.

The Sims 2

i just finished playing The Sims 2 for about four hours. i once wrote a philosophical essay in college about The Sims 2. i have been playing since high school and i go through periods of time where i play it often and enjoy it.

oh yeah, speaking of writing, check out this article that i wrote for suite101.com: http://hair-care.suite101.com/article.cfm/relaxers

nuts, i'm a published writer now! i'm so motivated to query my ass off to get more of my writing out there. it feels so good to be doing something that i love. it doesn't feel like work.

oh yeah, and i've been talking about McDonalds for a few days with various people so i caved in and ate some today. i normally try to stay away, but i fucking love McDonalds fries. i got filet o'fish meal. so good. it was so worth it.

i saw The Hives at 930 Club last night and it was sweet. my best friends came with and we had a good time, even though neither of them really knew anything about the band. i love those girls so much!

i'm super tired. i'm going to go put some acne cream my face and pass out. then tomorrow i'll do all the shit i didn't get to today.

FYI

Updates on my life . . .

1.) I no longer work at the gym. It just wasn't working out and I could never commit to it for one year. Technically I was "let go," but it was because I told her I couldn't do full-time anymore and then she said part-time wouldn't work AND I wasn't excelling at the job. Ouch, way to put that excelling part in there. It kind of stings, but I know it's true. And the sad part is, I didn't even really try.

2.) I am sick with the flu. No fun, but I'm enjoying this time of rest in bed. It's maddening to not be able to even sit up for more than 15 minutes, but this affords me to sleep and think about my next move in life.

3.) NYC is heavy on my mind again. I need to save more money before I can make the move, but I am thinking I need to just do it. I need to get my shit together.

4.) I am focusing on writing because it makes me happy and I'm realizing I can't really do anything else. I've tried everything, but I do not think I will find happiness working for anyone but myself and doing what I love and enjoy. It just isn't working out any other way.

That's all for now. I'm trying to get better so that I can go to work at 930 tonight. I am so sick of the drive. I'm also sick of some of the people, too. BLEH!

Saturday Night Free Write

Japanese art rock.

Gossip.

Loneliness.

Exhaustion.

Love life.

Smiles.

Brilliance.

Touch.

Rejection.

Lies.

Distrust.

Tongues being bitten.

Negative thoughts.

Incompassionate.

Smoking.

Feelings.

Coldness.

Insensitivity.

Apple Cider Vinegar.

Eyes.

Heavy.

Dream.

A NOVEL IDEA

there's something a little illegal
about taking a bubble bath
in the afternoon
on a monday

and yet that's where i find myself
contemplating life, love,
and the new incense
i just lit

i wish you could see some of the faces
when i tell people my plan
an endearing nod
or a muffled chuckle

it seems slightly unrealistic
indulgent
and fantastical
my wanting to write a book
and become a published author

but gee, isn't 70 degree weather
in DC on january seventh
and a bubble bath at 3 in the afternoon
on a monday

unrealistic,
indulgent,
fantastical?

and yet . . .