Blogging.
In a scarf.
And you know I am drinking me a wet cappucino.
Despite this, me being out in the world with other people, sitting here on our computers
There was a time when people had journals, or diaries and they poured their bitter thoughts and feelings about unrequited love, or how fat their ass is, or how much they need to get laid right onto those little pages with the cartoon kittens on them.
These days we take those thoughts and feelings and vomit them out into the internet where strangers can read them and... What?
Judge you? Empathize with you? Feel smug in the knowledge that they are somehow better because they aren't feeling angst-y on that particular Tuesday?
And I don't know if it's healthy, or kind. Especially if you are writing about other people, as I tend to do.
It's this kind of self celebration that facebook and twitter and blogger all succeed with.
I guarantee that a person that writes "God today is a deep pit of despair and doom" on their facebook, will reply "Great! How are you?" to the age old question: How are you doing?
What is that? Why does the faceless facebook allow us freedom to be whiney and judgmental and bad without feeling any guilt about it?
Perhaps because when we post our status about how much our day sucked, we see a million other voices proclaiming the same thing on our "news feed".
EVERYONE'S DAY SUCKED.
If I wrote all the things down that I've ever written on facebook in an actual BOOK and left it at work, or a coffee shop, I would probably be mocked mercilessly for my diary.
Which brings us to this blog.
Sometimes I can be very catty and bitchy and bitter. These are the bad things (Oh just the tip of the iceberg really) about me. Sometimes I write about things, and then the next day I feel completely different and I wish wish wish I could have never written it. That's probably not healthy.
I guess when I started this blog I was really lonely, and really angry I was lonely.
I suppose that I also felt my life was in need of a theme.
"23 year old single in the city" seemed fun and witty and something people would want to read about. Something I wanted to write about.
But instead 23 has been incredibly hard and confusing. And not romantic or sassy single girl living at all.
It's been me; painting my walls and learning to hail a taxi and ride the bus and fix my leaky toilet.
So as much as it may pain you to hear this, I don't think that being single is my theme.
I think figuring out my theme is my theme?
(ITS SO DEEP)
So instead of writing about the failures of men, or okcupid or my romantic fantasies that involve a bookstore and coffee:
I am going to write about me. Living here! In this city. And yes, there will be some nods to men in my life as they come and go. That is probably inescapable.
But mostly it will be about how much I love Than Brothers, and the monorail even if it's full of tourists.
It will be about the color of all the trees in Queen Anne and the millions of colors of the leaves and the matching scarves of all the children around the fountain in the Seattle Center.
I want to explore everything, and connect with people. I want to meet everyone and write about everything I see that I love, and some things that I don't.
I want to write about it if you want to read about it. Hell, I actually don't care if you're reading it. I'll write about it anyway.
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