Archive for the ‘Writing’ Category

And Why Not?

I wouldn’t exactly call myself technologically savvy.  Last August I got a laptop and an iphone in the span of about 3 weeks.  At that point, I was the most cutting edge that I have ever been in my whole entire life. I am not kidding–this girl owned a Zune (probably one of about 100 people on earth).

With my Apple-Zombie status firmly in place, I started to get a little cocky.  Uploading pictures to Facebook FROM MY IPHOTO?  Psh, cakewalk.  Downloading and reading E-books on my tiny 4×4 inch iphone screen? Child’s play.  I read some blogs, downloaded some illegal music (Sad Steve!), discovered StumbledUpon, and even….wait for it….joined Twitter.  I tweet now!  I don’t what I could possibly tweet about, but I do it! That was last week.

So this silly blog is sort of a sensible next step.  It actually probably should’ve been a first step, considering my background (I majored in ‘books and movies’, according to a some). But I dragged my feet.  Why?  Because blogs are a little scary.  And a blog that I myself write is absolutely fricking terrifying.

See, for those of you that don’t know me (and who am I kidding, anyone who reads this clearly knows me, why else would they be reading it?), I have a little bit of anxiety over publicly oriented things.  I literally break into hives.  People reading my writing falls into this category. Hives.  But after much deliberating and pondering, here I am.  Combining two things that make me itchy all over in general–writing for a public audience and technology.  I won’t tell you what number draft this is, or how long it took me to figure out this whole wordpress.com thing (here’s a hint: between 6-15 and a long ass time).  It’s the end result that matters, a blog that I can call my own, and that hopefully no one else will call obnoxious, dull, or lame.

So now I’m writing.  Not even with pen and paper, but like, virtually. But what exactly that writing is going to be about is yet to be determined. Because here’s a little secret: my life is not that exciting.  And by ‘not that exciting’ I mean downright boring.  As we speak I am sitting on a futon in sweats watching American Idol, discussing the freakiness of various contestants via text message with my sister and waiting for my laundry to dry.

Sassy 20-something living a glamorous life in the Big Apple: the parties, the clothes, the drama, the SHOES! (Cue Sex & the City music)

Yup, I’m Carrie Bradshaw–if Carrie Bradshaw lived in Queens, co-habitated with her serious boyfriend, didn’t get paid for writing, and wore flats.


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