I had a blog in middle school. It wasn’t much more than a horribly embarrassing diary, and I cringe at the thought of it still existing in some buried corner of the Internet, but I enjoyed writing in it. Starting a new blog makes me afraid that the frizzy-haired ghost of my pre-teen self might climb out of my laptop screen and yell at me for listening to Top 40 and for not yet figuring out how to shape my eyebrows. In fact, I can name at least fifty things she’d berate me for. Some examples:
• I’m not a rich and famous author and I don’t desire to be one
• I think college can be a waste of time and money
• I don’t read YA fiction
• I promised myself I would never wear high heels again
• I don’t think enjoying reality TV is a symptom of being stupid
• I own a romper
We still like buffalo wings and Harry Potter and thinking we’re better than everyone, though, so not all is lost. Anyway, this just feels weird. Typing this. Posting this.
One of my present-day goals (alongside learning to actually wash dishes instead of rationalizing the convenience of paper plates) is to do things I like to do. I like reading and listening to the radio and wearing jewelry and eating fruit, so why do I avoid doing those things? Writing about my life is not a chore. It’s something I once enjoyed. It enhances creativity and improves productivity. But I stopped doing it.
I think it’s because I have a hard time treating the present like it’s a real thing that really counts. I’m always waiting to move onto the next thing to Begin My Real Life, but I know I need to stop thinking that way. We treat high school like the purgatory before college, and college like the waiting room before adulthood, and now I keep thinking of my bedroom and my car and my clothes and my city as temporary. That’s so unhealthy! Now is the only now. And even though that sounds like the title of a bad ’80s rock ballad, it’s how I’m trying to live from here on out. So I’m going to spend my real life doing what I like to do. I’m going to wear dresses and have living plants around the house and talk to human beings. And maybe, like, write in a blog. Maybe.