I need to do something meaningful soon, or I'll go crazy.
I mean it. I'm sick of the Instagram, the Snapchats, the Facebook- the bullshit. Will it matter a year from now? Will I remember anything from the hours of crap that I consumed?
Maybe its the wintery cabin fever talking, or the fact that my roommate is gone for the week and I'm not used to living alone, but I can't shake the feeling that nothing I do means anything. Its the feeling that you could disappear tomorrow, and nothing would change. The world would go on turning, and your entire small, mediocre existence becomes nothing but blip, a number in the system, a grave in the cemetery.
Maybe it's good to feel small once in a while. I'm always hearing that my generations is self-absorbed and short-sighted; maybe it's good to feel unimportant every now and then, to get knocked down a few pegs. Maybe it's what we need in order to keep ourselves in check. We need to realize that no one really cares what we ate for dinner unless they were eating it with us, or that we can live without taking and sharing selfies everyday.
If we put half the energy that we expel on vanity and bullshit into something meaningful, maybe we could actually get something done, instead of documenting every single non-meaningful move we make.
**I realize that this post and entire blog can be seen as another form of bullshit media- trust me, I see the irony. For that reason, I think it's best that I take a Ron Swanson-style camping trip soon and take a step back from the things that are causing me to feel this way.
Tuesday, January 28, 2014
Sunday, January 19, 2014
Bright.
This morning, you asked through sleepy eyes if I wanted you.
From my lips I whispered "yes",
but inside I screamed "always."
From my lips I whispered "yes",
but inside I screamed "always."
Thursday, January 9, 2014
A Love Letter
This is a love letter to 32-year-old me.
Dear 32-year-old Elizabeth,
Hiya, champ- how are you?? Do people still say champ, or is that like outdated like "bra" and "chief"?
Anywho, I wanted to write you a love letter, because no matter where you are in life, it's something nice to get, and you can't always wait for someone else to give you something you deserve.
I hope you are well. I hope you're working, doing whatever it is that makes you happy. I hope it's something that your mom will be proud to talk about when she sends out the family Christmas cards. I hope it's something that gives you enough time to visit your family and makes you wake up in the morning with a sense of pride and purpose; it won't make you smile, because you're probably still not a morning person, but that's okay. Hopefully, whoever you're with will not only accept, but love that about you.
Which brings me to my next topic- I know it's never been your life goal to be barefoot and pregnant, but I hope you've found someone that can keep up with you and add to your happiness while possibly popping out a few little ones. Your parents might not love him (/her), but I hope they at least like him (/her), because like it or not, their intuitions about men (/people) are pretty spot on. I hope that with them, you feel invincible.
I hope your grandmas are still alive to see you get married. I hope you kept your pact and went Paris with Sarah like you always dreamed about. I hope Cassie has the kids she's always wanted. I hope your dad and Sue finally tied the knot (and let you be the band/DJ at the reception.) I hope your mom and Terrell went on a hundred more cruises and took advantage of every midnight buffet. I hope Leslie returned safely from her time in the Peace Corps and that you're living close to each other again. I hope you finally have an apartment with a balcony that will let you have a dog bigger than 20 pounds. I hope you finally cut your hair as short as you were too afraid to cut it. I hope you know a 1,000 songs on the guitar. I hope you got your first paid writing gig. I hope you're taking care of your body. I hope you're keeping in touch with the people that matter. I hope you're still taking risks and pushing yourself out of your comfort zone and taking what you want instead of asking for it.
Mostly, I hope you're happy; incredibly, ridiculously, stupidly happy. I love you.
Sincerely,
Me
Dear 32-year-old Elizabeth,
Hiya, champ- how are you?? Do people still say champ, or is that like outdated like "bra" and "chief"?
Anywho, I wanted to write you a love letter, because no matter where you are in life, it's something nice to get, and you can't always wait for someone else to give you something you deserve.
I hope you are well. I hope you're working, doing whatever it is that makes you happy. I hope it's something that your mom will be proud to talk about when she sends out the family Christmas cards. I hope it's something that gives you enough time to visit your family and makes you wake up in the morning with a sense of pride and purpose; it won't make you smile, because you're probably still not a morning person, but that's okay. Hopefully, whoever you're with will not only accept, but love that about you.
Which brings me to my next topic- I know it's never been your life goal to be barefoot and pregnant, but I hope you've found someone that can keep up with you and add to your happiness while possibly popping out a few little ones. Your parents might not love him (/her), but I hope they at least like him (/her), because like it or not, their intuitions about men (/people) are pretty spot on. I hope that with them, you feel invincible.
I hope your grandmas are still alive to see you get married. I hope you kept your pact and went Paris with Sarah like you always dreamed about. I hope Cassie has the kids she's always wanted. I hope your dad and Sue finally tied the knot (and let you be the band/DJ at the reception.) I hope your mom and Terrell went on a hundred more cruises and took advantage of every midnight buffet. I hope Leslie returned safely from her time in the Peace Corps and that you're living close to each other again. I hope you finally have an apartment with a balcony that will let you have a dog bigger than 20 pounds. I hope you finally cut your hair as short as you were too afraid to cut it. I hope you know a 1,000 songs on the guitar. I hope you got your first paid writing gig. I hope you're taking care of your body. I hope you're keeping in touch with the people that matter. I hope you're still taking risks and pushing yourself out of your comfort zone and taking what you want instead of asking for it.
Mostly, I hope you're happy; incredibly, ridiculously, stupidly happy. I love you.
Sincerely,
Me
Wednesday, January 1, 2014
This Is Not A Resolution Post.
This is not a resolution post. This is a look at what I've done in 2013, a reflection on what has happened and how those things may or may not affect my future. If you think nothing has happened to you in the past 365 days, I urge you to try this.
In the year 2013, I:
1. Graduated from a wonderful school.
2. Realized that college doesn't necessarily prepare you for the real world, because it can't; nothing can.
3. Acquired and lost my first "big girl" job.
4. Fell head over heels and, shortly after, experienced my first heartbreak.
5. Realized that you can't live your life for someone else.
6. Found my passion for social change.
7. Bought my first pair of stilettos.
8. For the first time since I moved to Chicago, celebrated with my entire family in the city.
9. Questioned the corporate hierarchy for the first time.
10. Published my first piece of writing.
11. Felt (and feel) that nannies, teachers, and all childcare providers don't get enough credit.
12. Shamelessly gave my number to a bartender, because that's the kind of thing my best friend can convince me to do after only 3 drinks.
13. Got called up onstage at Improv Olympics.
14. Made new friends.
15. Lost old friends.
16. Felt my heart being pulled in a million different directions as vital people in my support system moved away.
17. Directed my first show.
18. Felt inadequate when observing my peers.
19. Learned that everyone must create their own path, and that you can't judge anyone just because their path isn't what you would have chosen for them.
20. Accepted that my life has never-and probably will never-run according to plan.
21. Realized that you must never stop learning or trying, because to stop doing either of those things is the definition of defeat.
There you have it, friends. It may not look like a lot at first, but in retrospect, 2013 was a pivotal transitional year. As far as 2014 is concerned, my only concrete resolution is to post here once a week. Other than that, I resolve to do and to love more and more often.
In the year 2013, I:
1. Graduated from a wonderful school.
2. Realized that college doesn't necessarily prepare you for the real world, because it can't; nothing can.
3. Acquired and lost my first "big girl" job.
4. Fell head over heels and, shortly after, experienced my first heartbreak.
5. Realized that you can't live your life for someone else.
6. Found my passion for social change.
7. Bought my first pair of stilettos.
8. For the first time since I moved to Chicago, celebrated with my entire family in the city.
9. Questioned the corporate hierarchy for the first time.
10. Published my first piece of writing.
11. Felt (and feel) that nannies, teachers, and all childcare providers don't get enough credit.
12. Shamelessly gave my number to a bartender, because that's the kind of thing my best friend can convince me to do after only 3 drinks.
13. Got called up onstage at Improv Olympics.
14. Made new friends.
15. Lost old friends.
16. Felt my heart being pulled in a million different directions as vital people in my support system moved away.
17. Directed my first show.
18. Felt inadequate when observing my peers.
19. Learned that everyone must create their own path, and that you can't judge anyone just because their path isn't what you would have chosen for them.
20. Accepted that my life has never-and probably will never-run according to plan.
21. Realized that you must never stop learning or trying, because to stop doing either of those things is the definition of defeat.
There you have it, friends. It may not look like a lot at first, but in retrospect, 2013 was a pivotal transitional year. As far as 2014 is concerned, my only concrete resolution is to post here once a week. Other than that, I resolve to do and to love more and more often.
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