Virgina Woolf said that all women writers needed was a room of one's own. Nowadays perhaps it isn't so easy. Or maybe it is... its just that I don't have the independent means she also spoke of. I decided to start this blog after reading an article about a ninety-one year old man who had just published his first book, and learning that my college roommate had just published her first book. One raised my spirits immensely and the other brought them right back down. Not that I don't like my college roommate. She was awesome. She held like four jobs, put herself through our very reputable school, and immediately went on to graduate school after. I covet my college roommate's drive. Bitch.
Meanwhile, I stayed here. With my boyfriend and enjoyed my low paid job. Ah how life changes...life is like a Seinfeld episode. When you think back on Seinfeld you think about the story lines like: Wasn't that one about George's fat wallet funny? How about the one where Elaine hates Putty's fur winter coat and chucks it out the window? Then there's the one where Kramer and Newman decide to reverse their peep holes! ...then it hits you, those situations were all a part of the same episode! Whoa... you've gotta stop and give Jerry Seinfeld and Larry David their due. Some of you are saying, come on this is old news where have you been? Of course Seinfeld was genius. To you I say, I was working (and I don't really like Larry David on his own).
I'm not as driven as my college roommate but in my younger years I actually matched her for a bit. I worked. I went to school. I worked. I had some fun. I worked. That was about it. Most of my rebellion happened in high school. I was smart enough to know that juvenile records are usually sealed. Once I graduated by the skin of my teeth (by then I had been caught and grounded for about a year) I knew I was going to have to work hard to reverse most of the damage and I did.
Until three years ago, when I ditched College Boyfriend, lost my cushy job, and started to live life irresponsibly.
Interwebers, this is my story...