This blog has witnessed Northampton, MA. It has witnessed the insides of tea shops and cafes, and of my 20-something brain. Quite frankly, I’m surprised.
Now it’s time to witness the imposingly-named Ballston in the plastic city of Arlington, VA across (the Potomac) from the concrete of D.C.
I never thought it would come to this. I never thought I would get here and now that I am, I spend so much time pinching myself, convincing myself and pacifying myself. I thought these blogs–the one on Blogspot and this one–would be home to some self-indulgent fanciful thoughts for a couple years which would then morph into fiction and only fiction and that would be it. But somehow my life has become what I always wished and lusted after as a child and a teenager and I think now I don’t know how to act.
I know I revisit this blog again and again, thinking I might finally figure out how to make it beautiful and audience-worthy, and then again and again I just write about myself and my life and that’s just not interesting to anyone except myself. And then I disappear for years.
Well, I’m finally out of school. So maybe it’s about time I give this an honest effort without thinking about who’s watching, because I desperately need to figure out if I’ll ever be good at this or produce anything worthy of anything.