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.