Archive for July, 2009

Home again

July 10, 2009

I may have to quit Twitter. It feeds my delusions too much.

Do you remember when you were a teenager, dreaming of being an actor/rock star/writer/model, and you were certain that all that was necessary was one big break? The talent scout happening upon you in front of Hot Dog on a Stick. The english teacher sending your 9th grade essay on Hamlet to her agent buddy, ’cause she was so amazed by your potential. The big time producer whose limo turned on a dime, almost of its own accord, after hearing your killer rendition of ‘Ballroom Blitz’ that your radical boyfriend managed to beam onto Big Time’s TV.

Yeah, twitter makes me feel like that. And, on a normal day, I don’t love feeling delusional. That’s really an every-other-Sunday kinda feeling.

Sure, I proclaim that it’s to keep in touch with my friends. To know what’s up with them, and let them know what’s up with me. To make them laugh with my witty, yet cutting, observations. To create an online sense of community, with those I’ve met in person, and those I’ve only met in un-real-life.

Shyeah. Right. And monkeys might fly out of my butt.

Really? It’s because I want to be discovered. It’s because I want all these quasi-or-more-than-quasi celebrities I follow to recognize my genius and follow me back. When I make my rare comments to famous strangers, I picture them curling up in laughter, checking on my twitter feed, and clicking all the way through, to this lonely little blog, to discover what a rare talent I have. Before long they will be my bestest friend, and they’ll drop my name to their agent/producer/TyraBanks, and I’ll be juggling multi-million dollar contracts.

Yeah, I know. This is why I may have to quit twitter. Because while I recognize its value in community building, and I appreciate those moments of delusion, it makes for more moments of almost mortifyingly embarrasing small-town optimism, followed by reality, shame, and unnecessary disappointment.

I have, at least, altered my expectations. Instead of hoping for instant fame, elevation from mall-shopgirl to Vogue cover-model, success, and a 3-record deal, I hope for that equally elusive daydream, the follow-back. Why do I care? I don’t, really. But I kinda do. But not really. Really.

I would say I’ll hold back my twitter use, just use it for real-life friends, but I just remembered a bee story that @neilhimself would so totally love – just one more quick post, I swear, then I’ll quit.


July 8, 2009

Aaand… I’m back off.

It’s okay, though. Life is happening. I’ve got jury duty, and rafting events, and kayaking, and first dates, and birthdays, and treasure hunts, and BANG, and new roommates, and old friends, and new friends, all in the space of a few short weeks….

And none of that is an excuse, I know. My gosh darn sister (who is probably my only reader, thus only the mild expletives) gets up at 3:30 in the morning in order to write before work. Gosh darn it. I just haven’t found that motivation. I don’t even know if I want to. No, that’s not true – I’m pretty sure I don’t want too, or else I would have.

Honestly, I’ve never been so happy to not be writing. I feel a bit guilty for that. If I’m really a writer, shouldn’t I be unhappy every day that goes by that I don’t write? I don’t know. Maybe I haven’t found my passion yet.

Either way, come fun or come work, I’m getting up crazy (though not sister R crazy) early tomorrow to do some writing. Coffee, don’t fail me now.