a thing where i talk about myself

(surprise!) — Also, this was written on the 21st, but I save it as a draft and forgot it. 

Today was a shitty day, but I’m not going to talk about it much, except the parts that are required to talk about the thing I want to talk about*, which is a happy thing. Obvious and already-known details first: I live in Savannah, which is 6 hours from my hometown and 8ish from my college town. Savannah is my residence because of various events, mostly bad ones that aren’t worth mentioning, but all those tragedies (eg: people dying, academic downfalls) coupled with heartbreaks (known henceforth as big HB and lil’ HB, respectively) and the best weekend of my life* made me decide to post a Facebook status asking anyone with a home and a heart to give me a break until I got my life together. 

So, I quit a well-paying job in the booming print journalism industry, packed up a suitcase and moved to the suburbs of coastal Georgia with a thousand bucks and an idea for a novel. This taught me a few things:

  1. I do not know how to make new friends.
  2. When placed somewhere that I only know two people, I am both exhilarated and completely incapable of functioning.
  3. Money is really hard to keep track of when you’re not making much.
  4. An idea for a novel doth not a novelist make me.
  5. Concepts like “traffic” and “tourism” are foreign to me

But I made it through the first few months by getting consistent work and not writing a damn thing of substance. Then I had my aforementioned revelation about narcissism, and I collected my anxieties and decided to live them out instead of being crippled by them. Here’s what all that taught me:

  1. I can make friends when I’m not scared of people. Occasionally, they even end up teaching a class with or dating me.
  2. I was incapable of functioning my last 6 months in Alabama, so moving here and working a job I don’t mind and occasionally doing cool stuff is a good enough trade.
  3. Money is sort of problematic for most 23 year olds. There’s some grace.
  4. These ideas I have are not going away, and they lend themselves to new projects and inspirations if I let them. I’ll write something someday.
  5. I’m a shitty driver and a bit of a misanthrope. Let’s just move past it already.

So, anyway, after a string of movie-worthy weeks, my hormones and my fears hit me hard. Then my car decided to die, resulting in the inevitably ego-busting call home for money from the people who cut the literal umbilical and replaced it with their seemingly infinite money and even more unfathomable love. The day decayed from there, financially and emotionally. I lose myself in the mess and worry of a few moments and forget that I have learned and grown and proved myself (and my parents!) wrong about being able to survive on my own, someday…maybe.

*that is how you expositioning!

**recent events would make this weekend the 3rd or 4th best, but historically speaking, it was unprecedented.

1 day ago  Notes (0)

I wrote this fairly long thing about how I’m worried about graduate school and sad about missing a friend’s wedding and scared about the next few months and sunburned because I decided to see how bad it could be to do 3.5 hours at the beach sans sunblock.

It was boring and lended itself to cryptic readings of dissatisfaction that are overblown. Remember two days ago when I promised to stop that shit?

So I deleted it and will exchange it for a reminder to myself when I start to worry:

There are times when you’re going to miss your friends and family because you chose to run away somewhere that you only know a few people. And you’re going to have to wait for the next few months to work themselves out, because school and moving are not going to fix the missing and the uncertainty of the future. Maybe you could constantly remind yourself that you got here by a series of events that you never expected, and the occasional disappointment is not going to bring you to your knees.

Also, you’re a dumbass for not wearing some SPF.

4 days ago  Notes (0)

back and back again

I left for awhile, because I had to. I wanted to, but mostly I needed to live in a world where my blog’s readership/content wasn’t important. For a few months, I got to live fairly untethered from the Tumblrverse. I tried to keep up, but life got in the way.

But guess what, guys? Life got in the way because I made efforts to stop being a belligerent (but benign!) narcissist. To even imply that there was something worth getting in the way of is silly, because I was  a miserable wreck of human. Sometimes I’m still that miserable wreck, but a big part of keeping my sanity involves not allowing myself to get caught up in the self-glorifying aspects of web culture. Also, not drinking much and taking a minute dose of anti-anxiety medication. 

So, sure, I’m still tweeting obsessively, but I haven’t blogged publicly in a few months in order to focus on a few things, namely the people and experiences and things that my life has lacked. That lack was there for awhile, nagging me to stop searching for affirmations in hit counts and reblogs. One day, I listened to the shy part of me that felt exposed by the volume of personal BS I had spilled all over the internet. Also relevant: I have an anxiety disorder that makes me think I am both important and insignificant. Blogging lends itself to both of those things. 


So I did the thing  that needed doing. I deleted thousands of posts on this blog and others, because it was time to grow the hell up and focus on the real world, with all its soft skin and smiling strangers and potential for disappointment. The next day, I went to Charleston and didn’t get scared of coming back to the city I’ve made my home. The next week, I went to a parade and didn’t have a panic attack*. Then, I ran away from Savannah for the better part of a month and got to know new people, and I got to know the person who has been covering up a bunch of insecurities with a self-effacing persona for years. **

Now, I’m getting to know the people that I ignored and neglected during 700+ days rife with selfishness (rough estimate). I’m trying to keep track of what the flesh-and-blood world has to offer. And trying to keep in touch, because it’s still a fact that the people I care about the most are 200-800 miles from me. So that’s what this is.


So, I’m not here to promote myself or build some presence that represents me. I’m not tracking statistics or logging IPs. I’m not promising that I’ll update. This is not where I’ll dump my passive aggressions or worries for all to see. The place for cryptic shit like that is my 2006 livejournal (which still exists, and will remain forever to remind me that I was both pathetic and really fucking cool back then.)

This is for the people who asked me why I stopped blogging, but it’s also for the moments that I’d otherwise let slip away. That’s not to say that my private business will be broadcast here (again, I was guilty. I am sorry. Those days are gone) but I want my mom and sister and disturbingly tight-knit group of mostly-web-based friends to be able to say “Hell yeah, I know what’s up with Erin. She blogs in a casual and completely not shitty way every couple of days. What an ideal example of functional and not crazy social media use!”

So you might read it, but you probably won’t. I’ll still write sometimes. Mostly, I’ll talk about music or movies or other meaningless things. And we’ll all be cool with it. 







*That’s where I met Evan, who is uncomfortable with being blogged about (as he should be. My crazy is only partially realized to him. SOON.) so I won’t bring up how fantastically different my life is 2 months later. Nor will I ever do anything that allows people to speculate on the private matters of our new-but-incontestably-awesome relationship. Promise. 

**Also during my hiatus: finally realized that I love the Decemberists, learned to play Settlers of Catan, went to Alabama twice, lost my job, applied to graduate school, started growing my hair out again, briefly lost touch with timespace and thought I did not exist (1.5 times), rode in cab with no underwear on, woke up next to a poptart, ran out of gas (and was very nearly raped and murdered), got a flat tire and a speeding ticket . Now you’re caught up.

6 days ago  Notes (0)