reflections in 420 characters or less

I enjoy writing.  I truly do.  Heaven only knows if anyone enjoys reading what I write, but nonetheless, I love getting my thoughts down on paper.  Those that know me well – or those that have met me in passing – would tell you I’m a verbal processor.  I think writing gives me the same type of outlet.

In spite of this affection for the written word, my prose has a few issues.  First, I lack creativity.  I will never, ever aspire to write the Great American Novel.  I can’t imagine coming up with a plotline, much less developing characters and dialogue.  I’d much rather reflect on what’s going on around me than create a new drama on my own.

Second, I find that my quest to create clever status updates has filtered into my writing, and I now sometimes struggle to stretch my thoughts out enough to make a blog entry worthwhile.

See?  I don’t even know what else to add to that paragraph.

I probably have seven or so ideas for blog entries a day, but when I sit down to start writing I find that I don’t have much to say outside of a central thesis statement.  For instance, I’d love to reflect a bit on the health care bill that just passed, not so much a political statement on the issues, but more a statement about the very emotional, very heated reactions I see others having.  Here’s what I have so far:

“Let’s all just take a deep breath.”

Pithy status update?  Yes.  But that’s all I’ve got.

Other examples:

I was in a Starbucks today, and the sun was shining in the windows through some trees, and I had an overwhelming desire to bring my laptop and sit in the corner all day long, enjoying the people and the weather.  Because that’s the place to enjoy a warm, spring day.  A Starbucks.

I realized today that if it weren’t for the dogs, I would have very little to be responsible for in my life.  I would have no reason not to stay in my office until 7pm every night, and we’d be able to pick up and travel whenever we wanted.  And I’m not sure how to feel about this, my life being run by three furry animals, especially considering we don’t have kids yet because we’re still enjoying our newlywed freedom.

Lately I’ve been interacting with a lot of students who are applying for leadership positions on campus, and it gives me flashbacks to college.  Those were simpler times, with stranger haircuts and bigger dreams.

Maybe those are longer than 420 characters, I don’t know.  I do know that there’s a good chance that nothing will come from those short sentences, because my creativity comes in short, staccato fires, not long-range missiles.

Do I recognize the irony of writing a page-long blog post about how I don’t have enough creativity to write a page-long blog post?  Maybe.  Or maybe I’m one of those people who doesn’t totally understand why the Alanis Morrisette song isn’t grammatically correct.  Whatever.


things I realized while reading old blog posts

Living in Seattle was fun, especially when it was warm enough to walk to the store and back.

Being single offered me a lot more freedom to be spontaneous, but mostly was a lot more boring.

I used to blog everyday.  Every.  Day.

My vocabulary seems to have been slowly disintegrating over the last two years.  Where did my big words go?

I went through a substantial Disney phase.

I used to think about blogging.  A lot.

I no longer oversleep my alarm by an hour and a half, and I have iron pills to thank for that.  They have changed my life.

I used to really, truly love my job.  In fact, I was kind of married to it, which is probably why it started to seem less fun when I met Joel.

There was a point in my life when it felt weird to call Joel my boyfriend.  Now it feels weird to call him my husband.

I don’t know why I don’t write more than I do, because I obviously enjoy it, and am better at it when I do it often.

Except for typos.  Those never seem to cease.

Oh, by the way, I guess I’m back.  Hiatus was short, as I kept getting pulled back here, and I realized I can manage more than one writing project at a time.