Life is very sweet right now. There is a squirmy baby in my belly. I am married, and happily so. Things have taken an upturn in my career. Things are good and I am so very greatful for that.

That said, I have some things I'd like to work on for the coming year. The consensus with most people is that New Year's resolutions suck - and maybe they do - but I think now is the perfect time to take inventory of what's going on in my life and set some goals for myself.

I'd like to open up my life a little more. When things were getting out of control and I was going through my depression, several people were purged out of my life. I say it like that because it's not like I woke up and said 'I don't want to be friends with x, so I won't.' Rather, we just stopped identifying. Conversations got strained and uncomfortable. I got really fucking horrible about returning phone calls. After that, my circle of friends was more like a triangle. Including my husband, I have about three people I can call up and bug when I'm bored. Other than that, I've been doing a lot of hanging out with people my husband knows. So, I'd like to open myself up to the possibility of new friends of my own.

I need to challenge my brain more. Pregnancy has made it very easy for me to lie in bed watching tv while my brain and butt turn to mush. I want to find some kind of hobby to keep myself occupied and to learn new things. I'd also like to read more.

That's all I can think of right now, and frankly, it's enough. Adios for now

Today I learned

Today I learned that I want to be a great writer, not just an employed writer (though I pretty much already knew that; I forget sometimes.)
I learned that I want to speak my mind
That I have something to offer
That I really am passionate about journalism, it's not just a line on my cover letter
That I'm going to start ruffling some feathers, and I'm going to enjoy it.

I think the baby crazies are finally getting to me. I was a raving, emotional bitch this weekend, and the past few days I have been in a bit of a funk. At 24 weeks, I now look like I have something about the size of a soccer ball shoved down my shirt. And my ass is getting bigger, too - I guess it doesn't want my tummy to feel alone.

I'm figuring out more and more lately that if I want something, I'm going to have to work for it. Nothing comes easy. That applies to my job, this blog (which I am barely tending to, obv.) and even superficial shit like my hair. I know it's an obvious to most people, but oh well - I guess I'm slow to learn sometimes.

My major goal right now is to drum up some freelance writing work. I feel like I am sooooo far away from it happening. I had a burst of energy a few weeks ago, and even made a connection with a paper here in Baltimore, but so far that seems to be languishing in the background. I know I need to keep moving forward. I need some more ideas as to how to do that.

Baby!

Sometimes I begin to kind of wrap my head around the fact that there is a tiny person with a tiny penis living inside me -- and it freaks me the fuck out.

Something Real

I titled this post with nothing specific to say in mind, except that I am looking for something real.

I clutter my mind with crap entertainment but there are things that I want, things that are important to me.

I met someone last weekend and she told me I should start calling myself a 'journalist' when someone asks what I do. My normal reaction is to say I write for a website, but that sounds kind of sheepish and half-assed. Journalist is real because journalist is what I want to be.

One Thing

I'm determined that I can work for the life I want. I am blessed with many things, but there is one major, career thing that is sucking away a lot of my happiness. I want to be able to enjoy certain aspects of my life other than work, and I'd also like to be a lot more comfortable money-wise and I need to work hard to make that happen.

Some excuses

Some excuses I've made for being the fabulous writer I'm supposed to be:

-I'm not ready yet; I need more practice
-I don't know what to do
-I'm too shy
-I need someone to help me

Bullshit. I am not meant to be in the place I'm in (at least jobwise) forever.

Also, I'm heartened by yesterday's Jena 6 rally. I love black people and see the potential in them, too.

Oh yeah, I have a blog

Here's where I am right now.

1. I'm pushing myself through. I'm slowly (sometimes too slowly) making myself be a responsible adult when I don't want to. Physically, I feel sick. Mentally, I feel dull. Eating small meals frequently sometimes helps with the nausea. Pushing things around the house in a half-assed attempt at cleaning makes me feel like I wasn't put on this earth just to take up space.

2. It's hot. August is summer's raggedy remains. I'm ready for fall.

Lethargy

Sometimes I feel like I want to be bored. I have been going through some major things (of which I will write about later) and my response to these big, swift changes has been to stop and become very inactive.

Lying around in bed satisfies an immediate need, but deep in the back of my brain, something is unhappy and begins to feel very, very sorry for myself and my life and all the blessings that I've been given.

So that's where I am right now. Peeling away layers of a way of living that I find inadequate and dangerous.

checking in

things are moving quickly in my life right now. work was pretty demanding this week - i was running around actually being a journalist. wedding stuff is on track. the only loose end is my bridal shower. that is actually freaking me out. what if no one comes? where to register? is registering tacky? I think there's the faintest whiff of tacky, but I don't want my 70-something aunt buying me bright red undies either. There are deeper things I want to talk about, but i'm feeling lazy tonight. stories for another time....

Sluggish

I'm writing this so i won't feel bad that I've been in bed, watching TV and talking on the phone for the last two hours.
How do people work full-time jobs and then come home to lead productive lives? I know I need to exercise more and eat my fruits and veggies - but then what would I have to feel guilty about if I did that?

I've been trying really hard to turn my anxiety into positive energy. Pms, or stress, or something has me bitchy and ungrateful and feeling unaccomplished. Instead of buckling under that energy, I've been trying to look at it from a more positive side - it's the part of me that's not happy settling. I'll find my groove because the annoying little bitch who lives inside me won't have it any other way.

I am unforgiving when it comes to certain people. I had a friend who, well, our friendship kind of just unraveled. What started out as a party-girl, together 24/7, I-trust-you kind of friendship kind of de-evolved into phony nicities and phone calls I didn't want to return.

Anyway, like I said, I'm unforgiving. I don't trust a simple hello. I assign everything the particular person does an ulterior motive. I judge, I look down on, I poke fun at. And then, just cause I'm me, I feel guilty.

About Me

About me: I am and will always be goofy. I'm goofy in jeans and a t-shirt and I'll be goofy in a wedding dress. I am, and will always be, hopelessly devoted to Jerryn, Large Sunglasses and Writing. In that order.

I am lazy, wishy-washy and jealous.

I am smart, good conversation and quirky.

I get caught up in the details. I devour books. I write for fun and personal torture.

Jambalaya

I am a jumble of strengths and insecurities.

I'm ashamed of myself. I am strong. I am not ashamed.

I have shame about who I am. I am not good enough just as I am. That's what I'm fighting every day. But I'm a fighter.

There is the load I'm pushing uphill every time I switch on my left brain (right brain?) to write. Every time I stretch myself to change. It's an energy, a responsibility, a weight. I am using my energy to bring about change in myself.

I am not dragging around has-been and was. But there is part of me that wants to.

I've been confronted over the last few years with my real, true self. I hated the parts of me that were ugly. The parts that aren't pretty or photogenic. The parts that no one would want.

But there's beauty, too. I'm working to embrace it.

I've been running away from the work ahead of me because it seems so large, so unfathomable. It was dumped in my lap after I graduated - a big unformed mess.

"There 'ya go," something said. Make something of it. Make something of your self. My words have power and can be used as weapons. They can be wielded.

The future is not something to fear.

Yuck. I can do it.

Only I can have my voice and it's special. There is no other voice like it.

I want

I spend a lot of time thinking about what I want, but if you asked me, I still couldn't tell you.

I want creativity, happiness, comfort.
I want stuff: books, towels, lotion, bath oil.
I want hair that I can go out in the rain with. I don't want the little bumps that spring up on my forehead sometimes.

I want for the life inside my head to match with the one I actually have. I want realities and I don't want to wait for them. I want another job, or to be happier with this one. I want to be good at something. I want to know what that something is.

Uphill

I've been writing for a paycheck for the last hm....four years now. But, writing here feels completely different. I feel like I'm just beginning to think in a different way. Words are harder to find here. But then again, there's no one to interview and no research to do.

I don't feel a spark yet. But I'm going to keep trying.

Engaged

Engaged:
Means you're supposed to be very, very happy all the time.
Means people ask 'how's the wedding?' Which is good because it gives an extra topic for polite conversation
Means even, when you thought you'd be the most un-bridezilla ever, you light up when people ask 'how's the wedding?'
Means cleaning up together, watching tv together, figuring out who's gonna take out the trash and thinking 'this is the rest of my life'
Means seeing layers in him that no one else does and loving each one
Means seeing where love takes you
Means a pretty new dress and a long vacation
Means change that is both mind-shattering and completely natural

B-E-AGGRESSIVE

Tonight, I've been inspired by - of all things - BET. I talk a lot of shit about BET, I talk a lot of shit about the people who appear on BET. But the thing is - they're doing something. They are out there. They are putting themselves out there.

That's what I want to do.

I have to check myself when I think about this blog sometimes. I tell myself that I'm just writing to write. That's crap though. I'm writing this because I'm a writer, I want my words to be heard, and, dammit, I want some attention for the words I write.

So, I'll keep plugging along. Through fear, bad writing, insecurity. Not because I want to be on BET. But because I've decided to be bold enough to chase my dream aggressively.

or consequence

The truth is, I don't feel like there's much for me to write about my life.
The truth is, I want to sound cool on the internet.
The truth is, I'm not.
The truth is, I'm kind of an asshole sometimes
The truth is, I'm lazy
The truth is, lazy feels like a heavy anchor around my neck
The truth is, I'm not happy with myself
The truth is, I need to push myself more
The truth is, I fear I'm not really creative
The truth is, although I write for a living, I don't see myself as a real writer
The truth is, this is more pity-party than i wanted it to be.

Today I learned

Today I learned

1. that if you perform cpr on someone, chances are high that they will vomit on you.
2. an EMT coworker has seen her fair share of naked dead old men
3. it's going to be quite some time before I am comfortable with myself or know what the hell I'm doing.

I don't care if you *are* studying

If you are playing music
and it's loud and good
don't be mad when I come
shake my thang

be grateful you get to see it.

Office Space

Roughly eight hours a day, five days a week, I sit inside a cubicle.

In my short, post-graduate career, I've never had to sit inside a cubicle, and it took some getting used to. It was freaky in those first few days - just me, my computer and three-and-a-half grey walls. Knowing that there were other people surrounding me, also in their three-and-a-half grey walls. If I were to stand up, I could see the top of their heads. I kinda wished I had a door, something to make it like an official office - but it wasn't to be.

I write this only to say this: if I'm eating, do not lean your heand and body into my cubicle! It makes me feel like a caged animal! Sheesh....

Well, hello blog. It seems I'm back.

It would also seem that I, well, don't have anything interesting to say at the moment.

How do writers write? How do sharers share. Dammit...I think I might suck at this. Oh well. I'll keep trying

More of the same

I wish I had the ability to write a post about feeling not-so-great without sounding like a whiny looser. But I don't. At least not yet. So here goes...

Today I had a problem at work with a co-worker who is type-A to the nth degree to my low-key slacker. I got so upset because it brought up questions I didn't have answers for. What am I doing?! What kind of writer am I?! What makes me happy, what fulfills me, what am I supposed to be doing?

I don't have answers to those questions. And fear makes me not want to answer them. Fear and laziness. I feel like those are two weights around my neck, and I'm fighting to run a race in spite of them.