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Woosaahing this muthafucker

Ten days shy of two years. That’s how long it’s been since I’ve posted here. I promise you, it’s not been from lack of trying. I could not remember the fucking password to log in to the site. HOURS, I’ve spent trying to recover the log in info and literally 3 minutes ago, my stupid brain said: try this one. And that fucker worked!

Have you ever been mad at something that turned out well because of how long it took and how much effort went into it when the answer was incredibly simple and right in front of your face? Just me? OK.password-reset

But, I go forward with the bullshit knowledge that everything happens for a reason. (I HATE that saying). Who knows what I would have written had I re-gained access last year, earlier this year, or one of the other million times I’ve tried. *sigh* Probably something mad poetic and influential that would have skyrocketed my writing career. Right.

So here we are now, and I have nothing to write about. Figures.

I could mention that as I sit here anger (at my job and other shit) courses through my body. I’m channeling it though. Turning the anger into motivation. Woosaahing this muthafucker and channeling the shit out of it.

It’s good to be back. Stay with me…

Holy shit…It’s been a year since I’ve posted here!

It’s awesome to be back writing again! For me, writing is something so extremely personal…too personal as a matter of fact. I have been published in major magazines and newspapers, I write business materials for friends and clients all the time and yet, I have not done what I should to take my writing to the next level. Basically, I’m a punk. But enough about my failings as a human being…

I’m back to blogging here because there’s stuff I want to talk about. Things I want to share with the internets.

Let me start by going back one year. I moved from DC to Brooklyn last summer and had the absolute time of my life! It was three months of every single thing that I wanted and needed. Concerts in the park, new friends, old friends, favorite bar, walking in Prospect Park every evening, not running into my old boyfriend, a shot at love, partying, discovery, energy, life, happiness, you name it…I got it from Brooklyn last summer. I am so proud of myself for recognizing what I wanted, going after it and most importantly, making it happen!

I’m back in DC now and not feeling too shabby about it. I had planned on moving back again this summer but Brian happened. Brian. I love his name. Almost as much as I loved Scott’s name. Maaannn. Scott. My shot at love last summer. That muthafucka was the One and no one could tell me different. ‘Cept Scott of course. He told me different. “I ain’t the one”, that nigga said, “I ain’t the one.” So I accepted and moved on. No cars were keyed in the process. He just wasn’t the one. Exit stage left. Enter Brian.

I don’t know yet what will come of Brian, I just know that things are going well and the voice in my head is constantly screaming at me not to fuck this up. Cause that’s my thing…I fuck up relationships. At least that’s what I’ve been lead to believe. Can’t be all them, right? S’gotta be me.

Anyway, Brian is one of the reasons I’m back here writing, because I want to chronicle the success or failure of this relationship. I hope for success. It’d be a change of pace at the very least. Relationships are not my forte but I hope for success with Brian and I will do all that I know how to make it so.

So far there have been some very enjoyable dates. Dinners, lunch, a get together of friends at his house, live music at a bar, and this weekend an all-day reggae festival. I’m happy with the way things are going so I’ve decided not to move to Brooklyn and put unnecessary strain on something so new and potentially long-lasting.

I’ll be here throughout the summer updating absolutely no one about the progress of this budding interaction between two single, like-minded people. If I were not such a chump, I’d actually post this someplace where people could actually read it but alas, me’s a punk.

Till next time…

Cheers!

Random like me

It’s Tuesday.

I’m Tuesday.

I feel I must write something in this space. Problem is, I’m finding it difficult to organize my thoughts and subsequently, my topics.

I’ll be damned if I keep writing about the boy that broke my heart. Regardless of the fact that I’m always thinking about him.

I could write about the boy that holds so much potential. But it’s too soon to speak on that.

I could write about moving North to enjoy the summer in a different city. But there really isn’t very much to write about there. I’m moving simply to do new things, meet new people and well…because I can.

I could wax philosophical about how being a wife and mother don’t really appeal to me. But societal pressure is a BEAST and that fucker is trying to break my back. One more set of wedding or newborn photos on FB and I’m gonna take a kill pill.

If I started writing about the fact that I may or may not be living my best, I’ll be here all night so let’s save that for a rainy day.

Rainy days…how about this weather we’re having?

Time to exit stage left.

VT