For every $25 donation through the rest of this weekend, I will write your name on my body with a purple Sharpie on race day. Largely. Legibly. Photographic evidence will ensue. Please spread the word. And donate. I still need $1,362.66. That’s a lot. Click the button below to donate.
Edited: April 29th, 2010
The next time I want to stab someone, I’m just going to look at this picture of my sweet baby buckeye, Josie. I’m serious. Look at that FACE. I just drooled all over myself. Someone book me the next flight to Ohio. And thanks to my sweet @WIBuckeye for producing such a little ham.
Edited: April 29th, 2010
Oh, hey. Just reporting live from Single Twenty-Something Land, going strong for something, like, 983 months. Give or take. Despite my tenure here, it’s really only been recent months that I’ve delved into “dating.” Like, actual dating. I mean, going out to dinner, finding out he’s Not It, and moving on. Or, rather, meeting people and finding out they’re… well, so here are my two favorites:
Girl meets boy. They’re introduced through a friend. Boy’s cute. Athletic. Great job. Seemingly awesome personality. GIRL WINS. They have dinner. Drinks. Movie nights. Repeat. Things progress slowly, but nicely.
Until he finds my blog.
Then it’s a Facebook message the next morning stating “the whole blog thing sort of weirds” him out. He “doesn’t get it.” Consider him “old-fashioned,” he writes, while dumping me IN A FACEBOOK MESSAGE. I’m certain that’s how things were done when “old-fashioned” was real. Through Facebook. On the Internet. Of course. While we’re dumping people because of blogs.
I took it personally at first. Got real self-conscious. Drove myself crazy wondering whether blogging would become the demise of my romatic future. Do I say too much? Am I too forward? Is this blog the worst idea I’ve ever had? And then I realized the last person I want to date is someone who doesn’t “get” blogging. Someone who’s too “old-fashioned” to walk confidently into the year 2010 where social networking is the norm. This blog is who I am. Take it or leave it. Bitch.
And then there was my sweet hairdresser. She tried so hard to make a love connection a while back. “There’s this guy. He’s GREAT. I’m going to introduce you two.” She had sparkles in her eyes. Through a series of events, he sent me an introductory email. Introduced himself. Asked if I’d be interested in coffee sometime. Told me to look him up on Facebook, so I did. He accepted my friend request immediately. I replied to his email. “Of course I’d like to get coffee,” I said. “Sounds great.”
I NEVER HEARD FROM HIM AGAIN.
I find out later that after perusing my Facebook page, he decided I was “too active.” She runs “like 10 miles a day,” he tells my hairdresser. This morning I noticed he’s since unfriended me. Without having ever replied to my email. Burn.
TOO ACTIVE.
I’m too active?
So in one fell swoop, two men have single-handedly taken my two passions – writing and running – and used them against me. My blog’s too weird and I run too much. Again I got paranoid. And then insulted. Too active, dude? Really? Oy. Another reminder that the last person on Earth I want a part of my romantic life is someone who thinks I run too much.
What’s funny about all of these stories is that I recently met someone. On the Internet, no less. It wasn’t through match.com or the likes (I’ve yet to venture down that route), but through the tightly-woven net of people I’ve met through running and Twitter and dailymile. Nevermind that we’re on opposite sides of the country. Nevermind that we’ve never met. But as it is, in this simple little world of social networking, it’s perfect. For right now, as it stands, we get along like champs. One day we’ll meet, I’m sure. Maybe we’ll hate each other. Probably we won’t.
But the existence of someone who’s not only inspired by the number of miles I log, but can log just as many, and who appreciates the existence of things like Twitter and blogging, reminds me that although I’m most often alone in my head and in my corner of the world, there are others just like me.
And the rest of ya’ll can go suck it.
No, just kidding.
Smooches.
Except you. You can go suck it.
Edited: April 26th, 2010
I made a bold decision today. Well, more like a bold declaration. I am done with mediocrity. I am done being miserable and wasting my time and talent and college degree.
I love Madison. LOVE. Like, to-the-millionth-degree love. This is the greatest city. But I think I’ve decided that I love myself more. I love my passions and my once-career. I miss feeling useful. And purposeful. I miss seeing my byline in the newspaper. I miss being needed and I miss deadlines. I miss waking up in the morning and not wanting to run a razorblade across my wrists because OH MY GOD DO I REALLY HAVE TO GO BACK TO WORK TODAY? I miss that.
I’m opening up my job search. To other cities. To other STATES. I’m just… going. Granted, if the most wonderful, perfect job landed in my lap in Madison, then YAY. But time has shown me that’s not going to happen any time soon. It’s time to open up and stop being afraid. I’ve kept myself tied close to home. For comfort. For safety. For my mama because I’m a mama’s girl. But I want to be brave once. I want to see what happens. I’m only 28. I’ve got a lifetime to move to and from cities and states. What’s wrong with a little dabbling now? Doesn’t mean one day I won’t come back and settle where my roots are.
Journalism is an impossible field right now. Newspapers are dying out. There are more out-of-work journalists than there are full-time ones. It’s fiercely competitive. But there are jobs out there, somewhere. Wherever they are, I need to seek them. Be it at a newspaper, at a PR firm, with a non-profit organization – somewhere out there there is a job that will allow me to write and communicate and do what I was meant to do. I will find it.
Edited: April 21st, 2010
Summer’s here. In April. Not that I’m complaining. I just don’t think I’m quite ready. I mean, my A/C unit is sitting in my parents’ basement and my running hat and gloves are still perched on my shelf, because I’m pretty sure I was wearing them two weeks ago. Welcome to Wisconsin.
My blog’s been a little quiet lately. I think I was having an Internet Identity Crisis. Twice in almost as many weeks I had to question this blog and my social media life as a whole. Twitter, dailymile, Facebook, blogging. And then I decided, fuck you, I like my blog. It’s for me. I’m a writer. These are my thoughts, this is my place, if you don’t understand or respect it, kindly go back to 1997. Welcome to 2010. This is the in-ter-net. Welcome to so-cial-me-di-a. There. Say it out loud. Now kiss my ass.
The purpose of this blog is not to entertain you. It’s to entertain me. It’s to engage my thoughts and my creativity. Dailymile has brought me to some amazing people. Twitter, the same. Facebook? Well, since I don’t participate in Farmville, I guess I don’t know what I’m doing there, but still. I like it. And that is the last time I will ever rationalize what I do.
In other news, my favorite Ohio best_friend_forever had a baby today, and she’s adorable. The baby, that is. Well, Sara’s adorable, too, but that’s a given. I’m proud of her. Sara, that is. Although the baby did a good job today, too. I’ve watched Sara grow as a wife and a friend and a person in the last few years, and now she’s a mama. And I can’t WAIT to meet the sweet little pea.
So that’s my update. It’s hot out and I like to blog. I hope you wrote all that down.
Edited: April 14th, 2010
