Hello internets, I have not spoken with you in a while.
I was thinking about doing year-end postings, you know, the whole “year in review” or “this is all the awesome stuff that happened to me this year.” But that seems like a lot, and I haven’t really been keeping up that well. Here are some things I can remember:
I finished school. And got my diploma.
I baked. A lot.
I started quilting. (This happened, like, yesteday.)
I wrote a few poems.
I started a new job with an awesome boss.
I went to California and Disney World.
It was not a bad year. In fact, it was a good year. I learned a lot of things this year about myself, my friends, and my family. One of the things I learned is that I was bad at blogging this year. Maybe it will get better.
I think one of the things that I really am anxious about from this year, though, is writing. I haven’t been doing it. I wrote a poem today (and it’s a bad poem) and before that I hadn’t been writing since, like, October. And that was mostly just for school. And before that, I hadn’t been writing since, like, April. And that was mostly just for NaPoMo. I hit some sort of wall that made me want to avoid writing entirely. My response, when people ask “have you been writing?” is mostly “I don’t want to talk about it.” I can pretty much pinpoint the things that made me want to not write, and they’re all stupid and inconsequential and ridiculous. And I know I just have to get over it. And I will. I started getting over it today by writing this really terrible poem about superstitions.
My friend does this thing where she emails a bad poem every Saturday to a small group of people. The small group of people email their own bad poems back to her. She started including me in her Bad Poem List this week, which was nice. Her bad poem was really not a bad poem, but I sent my bad poem back anyway. I feel like maybe I will start my own Bad Poem List. Any takers?
And now is the part of the blog entry where I stop writing and go watch Ex-Wives of Rock on Fuse. Yep, for real.