i don't feel indebted to anyone to write every day, and my existence online is more of a whisper than a scream, so i don't feel like my voice has been missed, but i have missed this space. i'm one of those people who can't travel alone, or go to shows or restaurants alone, largely because if i don't have someone to share an experience with, it's as if it didn't even happen. i need to put details down and post even the crappiest of cell phone pictures because if i don't, my brain stamps the memories INVALID. bold red ink.
anyways, this morning i woke up and felt as though i haven't existed for a couple of weeks. is that weird? i miss existing. i miss pointless stories and teeny tiny details and writing and deleting and posting whatever i feel like whenever i feel like and not worrying about what people will think of it. i remember when i first started blogging in 2008, and every post was really lame and mostly about how much i hated my job. but it was for me and now it's like a scrapbook and hopefully a beacon of light and hope to anyone who's ever had to work at staples. you know?
so i started reading from the beginning of my old blog this morning, just to get back in the mindset of "writing for the fun of it", and found some memories that i'm glad i wrote down, even if i'm mortified about the way i acted or would write them differently now--living in a new city with old friends and strange encounters with scary strangers and being the worst employee ever. i mean, yeah, i'd totally rather remember myself as awesome and lovely and funny, but the real me is the me that was, and i'm ok with her.
though. i'm glad she's not quite as ditzy and snarky as she used to be.
some old posts, for nostalgia's sake?