R. Murdoch
Okay, this is me. I have several things set up on social networks, but I want to make this one the important one. So here I go.
I’ve never been good at being open with anyone. In one week I’ll be done with my first year of college and I am no better off than when I began almost one year ago. I’m kind lost and lacking general direction in life. I’ve kind of resigned myself to the fact that I should be an English major, hoping that I’ll produce the next Crime and Punishment or Catcher in the Rye, but most days I worry that I’ll end up teaching Shakespeare to unappreciative teenagers.
Part of me feels like I’ve wasted this year. I planned on writing a lot, but I ended up not doing that. The best writing I did was a thank you card that I filled out at a baby shower that I was only supposed to put my address on. Despite all of that, it’s been one of growth. I’m no more disciplined, social, emotional, or sensitive than I was before but I’ve learned some things about me and about life in general.
Some things you should know about me. I can function on little to no sleep for months at a time. I’ve been known to drink pots of black coffee after midnight and recite Rudyard Kipling loudly. If I had to choose between losing music or an eye, I would lose an eye. I absolutely adore Meryl Streep. You probably would never guess, but my politics are on the conservative side. I don’t believe in God, and I don’t plan on doing so any time soon because I don’t see how I would benefit from it. I spent a year growing out my hair but then cut it off myself in an attempt to look more like the girl from Camera Obscura. Vegetarians annoy me, but I try to live by the phrase “no judgment, no opinion” but everyday that gets harder for me. One time I drank so much vodka that it came out of my nose the next morning. I’m pretty sure that I’m addicted to aspirin. I was recently so stressed out that I broke out into hives. My hair is graying (you probably can’t tell from where you are but I find more every day). I fear bloody noses more than anything else. George from Seinfeld was right when he said that pastrami was the sexiest of all cured meats. I don’t let people get close to me often, but when it does happen I freak out and put walls between us to establish distance again; I’m working on this though. I’ve been to nine other countries, and plans for future travel are in place. If I could do so without repercussions, I would get rid of everything I own and move to Engleberg, Switzerland and become a farmer (& I don’t even like sunshine or animals). I wouldn’t mind waking up tomorrow and being forty or fifty years old. Sometimes when I’m listening to “The Mariner’s Revenge Song” by the Decemberists for the millionth time in a row I wish that I was a pirate. I find it very, very hard to relate to people my own age. I like rainy and cold weather. I’m alone most of the time, but I’m not necessarily bothered by it. I’ve been in love once. I like very little, but things that I do like, I love intensely.
If I was going to be stranded on an island and take three things with me I would take my iPod, an expensive bottle of gin, and a copy of The New Yorker. Once I was done reading, my iPod dead, and the gin gone, I would probably drown myself.
What’s the point of all of this? I want a creative outlet, maybe even an audience, and someday some fans would be nice. Hopefully I’ll start writing again. Anything can go here- stories, poetry, the occasional album review, events from my life that I’ve twisted to a point, photos, sketches, old things that I dig up, whatever. I just want to have some decent stuff here.
Okay, this is me. I have several things set up on social networks, but I want to make this one the important one. So here I go.
I’ve never been good at being open with anyone. In one week I’ll be done with my first year of college and I am no better off than when I began almost one year ago. I’m kind lost and lacking general direction in life. I’ve kind of resigned myself to the fact that I should be an English major, hoping that I’ll produce the next Crime and Punishment or Catcher in the Rye, but most days I worry that I’ll end up teaching Shakespeare to unappreciative teenagers.
Part of me feels like I’ve wasted this year. I planned on writing a lot, but I ended up not doing that. The best writing I did was a thank you card that I filled out at a baby shower that I was only supposed to put my address on. Despite all of that, it’s been one of growth. I’m no more disciplined, social, emotional, or sensitive than I was before but I’ve learned some things about me and about life in general.
Some things you should know about me. I can function on little to no sleep for months at a time. I’ve been known to drink pots of black coffee after midnight and recite Rudyard Kipling loudly. If I had to choose between losing music or an eye, I would lose an eye. I absolutely adore Meryl Streep. You probably would never guess, but my politics are on the conservative side. I don’t believe in God, and I don’t plan on doing so any time soon because I don’t see how I would benefit from it. I spent a year growing out my hair but then cut it off myself in an attempt to look more like the girl from Camera Obscura. Vegetarians annoy me, but I try to live by the phrase “no judgment, no opinion” but everyday that gets harder for me. One time I drank so much vodka that it came out of my nose the next morning. I’m pretty sure that I’m addicted to aspirin. I was recently so stressed out that I broke out into hives. My hair is graying (you probably can’t tell from where you are but I find more every day). I fear bloody noses more than anything else. George from Seinfeld was right when he said that pastrami was the sexiest of all cured meats. I don’t let people get close to me often, but when it does happen I freak out and put walls between us to establish distance again; I’m working on this though. I’ve been to nine other countries, and plans for future travel are in place. If I could do so without repercussions, I would get rid of everything I own and move to Engleberg, Switzerland and become a farmer (& I don’t even like sunshine or animals). I wouldn’t mind waking up tomorrow and being forty or fifty years old. Sometimes when I’m listening to “The Mariner’s Revenge Song” by the Decemberists for the millionth time in a row I wish that I was a pirate. I find it very, very hard to relate to people my own age. I like rainy and cold weather. I’m alone most of the time, but I’m not necessarily bothered by it. I’ve been in love once. I like very little, but things that I do like, I love intensely.
If I was going to be stranded on an island and take three things with me I would take my iPod, an expensive bottle of gin, and a copy of The New Yorker. Once I was done reading, my iPod dead, and the gin gone, I would probably drown myself.
What’s the point of all of this? I want a creative outlet, maybe even an audience, and someday some fans would be nice. Hopefully I’ll start writing again. Anything can go here- stories, poetry, the occasional album review, events from my life that I’ve twisted to a point, photos, sketches, old things that I dig up, whatever. I just want to have some decent stuff here.
