This past year has been brutal on my blogging. To be fair, most of my desire to write was sucked dry by my Bachelor's Essay, which became a beast of a creation: 16 single-spaced pages of people's volunteer stories and my analysis of it all. I also spent what little free time I had applying for jobs and helping my husband plan a wedding. Well, the wedding thing worked out, but the job? Jury's still out on that one. Between my senior year coursework and helping the lovely Eliza Blades and Laura Mewbourn run the Bonner Leader Program at CofC, I had nothing left when the day was over. So I mindnumbingly watched a lot of Netflix: Breaking Bad, Psych, The Walking Dead, movies on movies on movies. I regret not blogging through my spring break trip to Guatemala and missing out on this reflective space that allows me to make beautiful connections through the craziest year of my life.
But I'm now living a new life, in a new state, in a new apartment, with a new name and a new roommate (hey, John Ray, who doesn't read over my shoulder nearly as much as I read over his). It feels like a good time to pick this blog up, brush off the dust, and reimagine what it will be.
Blogging can be like having an existential crisis all the time. I constantly ask: What should my blog be about? Is this life event significant enough to write about? Am I witty enough? Do people get my sense of humor? Will people care to read about that random thing that happened to me? Would they like more pictures? Does anyone actually read this thing? Is my life meaningful at all?! Okay, not the last one so much. A blog sometimes feels something like an unpleasant growth on the side of your face. People stare at it, but don't ask about it. The word "blog" itself is too uncomfortable to mention anyway. You can't just walk into any room and declare, "I HAVE A BLOG." No, that won't do at all.
But I've made the move from Charleston, SC to Louisville, KY, and, as uncomfortable as it is to say, I'd like to bring my blog along with me. I've traded the Atlantic Ocean and quaint historic houses for rolling green hills and a quirky industrial city with horse and bourbon obsessions. We're trying to find new digs and niches, and basically, I'm not sure where life is taking me from here. Right now, I'm reveling in the joys of watching any World Cup game I want and going to bed before 10 every night. I'm also marveling at how easily I get antsy and frustrated and irrational while my unemployed self sits at home all day staring at job listings. So perhaps my blog and I will be helping each other do some reimagining here.
Welcome to my transition space.
I make no promises, so expect only me.
But I'm now living a new life, in a new state, in a new apartment, with a new name and a new roommate (hey, John Ray, who doesn't read over my shoulder nearly as much as I read over his). It feels like a good time to pick this blog up, brush off the dust, and reimagine what it will be.
Blogging can be like having an existential crisis all the time. I constantly ask: What should my blog be about? Is this life event significant enough to write about? Am I witty enough? Do people get my sense of humor? Will people care to read about that random thing that happened to me? Would they like more pictures? Does anyone actually read this thing? Is my life meaningful at all?! Okay, not the last one so much. A blog sometimes feels something like an unpleasant growth on the side of your face. People stare at it, but don't ask about it. The word "blog" itself is too uncomfortable to mention anyway. You can't just walk into any room and declare, "I HAVE A BLOG." No, that won't do at all.
But I've made the move from Charleston, SC to Louisville, KY, and, as uncomfortable as it is to say, I'd like to bring my blog along with me. I've traded the Atlantic Ocean and quaint historic houses for rolling green hills and a quirky industrial city with horse and bourbon obsessions. We're trying to find new digs and niches, and basically, I'm not sure where life is taking me from here. Right now, I'm reveling in the joys of watching any World Cup game I want and going to bed before 10 every night. I'm also marveling at how easily I get antsy and frustrated and irrational while my unemployed self sits at home all day staring at job listings. So perhaps my blog and I will be helping each other do some reimagining here.
Welcome to my transition space.
I make no promises, so expect only me.
Answers to your questions -
ReplyDeletePsych and its impact on your life, of course.
Probably not, but it can always be an insignificant life event AND a great story.
Most of the time.
Probably not.
Of course, that what blogs are all about.
Pictures are always good, especially if they involve a cat.
Yes. Someone reads your blog.