So, I moved. I left New York. You might have realized from Georgette’s super nice goodbye post, or you may not have, because you don’t really care about my life. Totally understandable.
This is me and a friend on moving day. We like wearing white shirts that much our teethy smiles.
I was going to write a “goodbye to new york” post, about staying and leaving, tall buildings, good friends, bad winters, etc. I tried, I really did. But I just can’t do it. Maybe I’m not ready to say goodbye to New York, but mostly, I think I’m not ready to say goodbye to anywhere. I have no idea what I’m doing with my life. (Even after college! Weren’t they supposed to teach me that? Shall I sue?) Continue reading
Dating, always awkward, chock-full of grievances before happening upon the realization that I may actually like this person very much. With this realization comes, wait for it… wait for it… the fear of judgment the lack of gainful employment brings! It’s always there kicking around my head saying, writer, yeah right?, I hope he doesn’t ask how many hours a week I work, screw this who needs to date anyway? maybe I can find a broke writer boyfriend, he’ll accept me. For a while I let these insecurities get the best of me, casting my desire for companionship and romance aside because of my topsy-turvy work life. Eventually a thought allowing me perspective squirmed into my angsty poor writer’s brain whispering, “No one’s judging you as harshly as you’re judging yourself.” While this is true to an extent (people hate hard), I did manage to see some remnants of possibility in my dating future.