I am the worst blogger ever.
As in, I absolutely do not blog anymore.
If you read this shit period you must give a shit or two about me, or be extremely bored and miserable. In either case, I can tell you the truth.
Here goes.
I find it hard to write anything if I can't be totally honest. I find it especially hard to write if I can't pull some kind of witty angle. And to be very honest and anything but humorous, shit's taken a turbulent turn in the last month. As previously stated, I suffer from the inability to speak if it can't be kind of over the top and bitchin'. It's a disease. Okay, let's not get crazy. But it is definitely an ego thing. Again, with the honesty. It just comes pouring out of my mouth. It's a curse. I CANNOT LIE.
But truth is, I'm in the three month funk. I'm calling this time the "reality check" period. I've been here before. I will probably be here again. You've done some big leap. It's all exciting and fucking epic. A penny on the ground looks shinier than it would have if it was on the ground a couple months earlier back at home in the comfortable life you left behind. But after a little bit of time in your new exciting world, the penny is just a penny again. It's absolutely crazy to me the way your mind/heart adapts to it's surroundings. Or maybe it's just mine.... similar to the way my income seems to stay exactly the same regardless of how much my paycheck is. My shopping habit increases while my standard of living remains exactly the same despite a $50k increase in salary. I wish that last part was more than an analogy. Do you follow?
I have a list of gripes plaguing my life right now but the list is counteracted with an equal list of "bless it"s. The posi list might be leading by a tiny hair. The good news is that I think with each day that passes, that list is going to kick the gripes list to the curb and this pothole will be filed in the gone and forgotten folder.
Vague update from Brokelyn, I know. But if I can't write anything nice, I will write nothing (specific) at all. I will go the ambiguous route.
In other news, the boy scene is grim as ever. Read it and weep.
If you happen to stay abreast of my East Coast dating nightmares, please refer to "First Date in Brooklyn, Circa January 11'". The Lloyd Christmas I'm-best-friends-with-every-band-you've-ever-liked-name-dropper? Yea. That fuckin' guy. Mmmmm remember when we went out and had no chemistry? Yea we still don't. And I just threw up in my mouth a little bit. Also good lookin' out on catchin' the sarcasm. Please die.
Good thing landing a mate isn't on my top 5 right now.
Honesty and laughter coming May 2011.
Stayin' up. <3
