Tag Archives: the frenemy

I Blame Justin Timberlake And The Hummus

I was going to write a New Year’s resolution post, or rather, finish it, but then it struck me that finishing said post was the point.

I had all these intentions but then things go sour or I get stressed, and so instead of writing, I come home and lay facedown on my bed and listen to a whole Ryan Adams album while half-moping, with a distressed golden retriever by my side who would like to help, but also is confused as to why I am not petting him every 2 minutes.

You see, I wanted to write about everything today. I wanted to write about how obsessed I am with the fact that Justin Timberlake announced that he’s returning to music and how also Destiny’s Child is releasing new music and how hearing this made me both scream, “BEST DAY EVER” and also not able to move my hands correctly to type a “hooray!” text to everyone for some time because they were shaky with happiness. I wanted to write about January things and about what I’ve learned so far in 2013 and about the dream I had last night in which Stevie Nicks (!!!) appeared and told me to keep going.  I wanted to write about how my boyfriend finally downloading emojis on his iPhone has been both the best and worst thing to happen in the past week. I wanted to write about Honey Boo Boo Child and I wanted to write about pizza. I wanted to write about my best friend becoming a featured contributor on my favorite website. I wanted to write about the napkins with pugs on them that a dear friend sent me in the mail and I wanted to write about how I have so many crafty ideas now that I discovered I have both spray adhesive AND glitter in the living room, currently at arms reach.

I wanted to write, I really did. But then something came up- like it always does – and I didn’t. I got distracted by a text message, maybe. Mostly, I read a blog post that I think is cleverer and more on point than my words and that made me discouraged, which instead, should have inspired me to write. Or maybe I got distracted by the hummus in my fridge and how it would taste on a Wheat Thin. Or 49 Wheat Thins. Or maybe I was about to type “wordpress.com” into my browser but then took a detour and found myself in a black hole of online shopping, adding too many things I can’t afford to my cart. Or maybe I just forgot, just put it off, just moved on to the next thought.

But, like it or not, I’m a reluctant writing addict. Words and sentences and paragraphs are art to me, are therapy to me, are home to me. There’s so many situations I have gotten over by writing about them or made better by writing about them or been able to laugh so hard at by writing about them. I have so many dumb stories and moments that I assume no one can relate to or no one cares about, but then I write them down and- BAM! – I realize I’m not the only one. Published or unpublished, typed or handwritten, full complete sentences or words on a page – they’re all important. Writing is something I come back to, but not nearly enough.

So I’ll get back to those New Year’s Resolutions later, but the top of the list is to WRITE and write, write, write and then write some more.

Write when it’s easy and write even more when it’s hard. Write seriously and write mockingly. Write for fun and write for work. Write Thank You cards and personal birthday cards and don’t slack on an email when it would take 5 minutes more to make your point better. Write down things you are thankful for and write down things you want to change. Write blog posts even if the idea of having a blog makes you feel silly and almost embarrassed sometimes. Write til your fingers bleed- figuratively or literally. Write compliments to yourself on your mirror in lipstick. Write fake ad campaigns and jingles for commercials that are better than the current ones you hear while you are waiting for the newest episode of “The Mindy Project” to play on Hulu. Write to your parents. Write to people you wish you could meet. Write poems that rhyme and write love letters you’ll never send and write your grocery lists in your best cursive with hearts above all the i’s. Write when you’re in a bad mood, write when you are stressed, write when you are broke. Write when you are overjoyed, write when you are in love, write when you can’t imagine a better day.

Most of all, write and don’t stop. Don’t compare your words to anyone’s but your own, and don’t be afraid to try new ones. Constantly write the thoughts in your head down somewhere. Write notes in the margins of your books. Write in other languages. Write down your big ideas and write down that funny quote your friend said at brunch. Write down lists of fake band names that you’d use if you were ever a rockstar. Write scripts that may never see the light of a studio, write songs that you may never sing, but, more than anything, just write.

And when you think you’ve written enough, write another page.

Or write another blog post…about writing.

Advertisements

Some Nights.

Some nights, I :

  • online shop and order shirts with eagles on them, heart-shaped sunglasses and Holly-Golightly-inspired sleeping masks
  • eat a giant slice of chocolate cake (#noshame)
  • delete 100 people from my phone contacts
  • become reminiscent about the past and work myself into this little crawlspace of emotions
  • bookmark and pin a bunch of craft d-i-y projects that i know i will be too lazy and impatient to actually ever make or do-it-myself, but that look so cute and practical
  • watch The Princess Diaries and High Fidelity on a neverending loop
  • have 3 intense crippling moments thinking i will forever be alone
  • have 24 intense crippling moments thinking i will never make it in the working world and music industry
  • cry while reading my bible
  • send picture messages of: baby sloths, corgi puppies and kittens
  • laugh so hard at the dinner table with my parents about our fear of the slow checkout lady at hobby lobby that i start crying
  • actually remember to moisturize twice a day like every magazine has told me for years and feel like a total rockstar because of it
  • paint my nails with OPI’s “The One That Got Away” from the Katy Perry Nail Polish Collection and feel like a total rockstar because of it
  • play guitar and ukulele for the first time in two months and sing until i’m hoarse
  • spend 20 minutes trying to get my brother’s pug to love me, and fail
  • make obsessive and ocd-esque playlists on Spotify for hours on end
  • think about Coachella and assume that since I’m not there, it’s probably not very good, I mean like, Gotye and Beirut and Bon Iver and The Black Keys all in one place? I’m not jealous or needy for live music. Nope. Totally fine. (ish)
  • go out and am the quintessential twentysomething social butterfly with loud music and trendy beverages and dancing, only to be wishing for my bed and its 7 pillows, all comfortable
  • sit on my bed with its 7 pillows, all comfortable, and yet wish i was out on the town like a quintessential twentysomething social butterfly with loud music and trendy beverage and dancing
  • look forward to getting home just so i can put on my moccasins
  • watch the latest episode of Mad Men and discuss it in depth with my best friend via text message and consequently, become so thankful for stupid things like text messages and technology and writers of wonderful television episodes
  • miss my friends and college so much that it hurts inside my very soul. like, inside and out, my whole body just seems to say “i miss you, i miss you, i miss you all.”
  • try on my entire shoe collection and, really, applaud myself on my great taste
  • tell myself i should read more books and end up reading the internet for the next 3 hours
  • read The Frenemy and feel less alone
  • make long list blog posts that might borrow their format from The Frenemy a little bit
  • eventually sleep, but, at least tonight, not before I listen to Some Nights again. (see what I did there?!?!?)
  • (goodnight.)