See ya later.

Building it up, collecting tidbits here and there, brainstorming ideas… I’ve gathered a handful of thoughts on the “closing” of my blog over the past few months, all the while anticipating that it will have to end. Granted, it doesn’t have to. But had to or not—it is, finally, coming to a close.

So—with a heavy belly and a light heart—the end:

Writing this blog has been awesome. It’s been good for me. It has mostly been good for me because it has forced me to organize my ideas so as to regurgitate them in an understandable way (as opposed to many of my other hard-to-follow rambles). And I’d be lying if I said that the ego boost all the wonderful compliments gave me were unhelpful. They were greatly helpful. It’s good to know some people out there empathize, agree, disagree, and well, actually think I can write well enough to entertain at least a few raccoons.

And, truth be told, I’d like to add more to those ideas and keep writing because it makes me really, really happy. But for an audience? Well, that I will not be doing anymore. At least not for a while.

Thus, as the prolific lyricist Nelly Furtado so rightfully howled alongside her wolves, all good things come to an end. And all bad things too, as this blog has caused more than its share of angst as well. So with that, adieu. Or, since we all know I don’t do goodbyes: a bientot.

Yeah, talk to ya later. Email me. Call me. Skype me. Facebook me. Link me in. I will pick up. I will respond in so many words it’ll make your heart froth. I have nothing better to do with my life right now than catch up with old (and new) friends and I’m languishing in the knowledge that I better get it in now because someday that leisure will be less easy to come by. Someday I will be more interested in the desk, ideas, toddlers, xyz in front of me than my dear friends from afar. I’m aware of that. So now, my friends: bye, hi!

completely self-serving (unlike all of my other posts)

Wobbling around the house in my slippers, groaning some Godzilla-like rumbles… among other disgusting niceties that I will leave out, this is me. With a cold. Spending my time applying for jobs for which I greatly lack the credentials, trying to keep the fire going so no one can write an Into the Wild-esque story about me, and putting a little half-hearted time into my new skills… I’m so happy when Mom comes home and says she’ll make her lil’ punkin eggs and toast any way she likes them. Well, since you've asked, yes, I am fourteen. And, scrambled, please.

Of course, this being at home thing comes with its downsides too. Namely, I have realized just how easily blurred the lines between being sick at home “recuperating” and being home actively job searching can be when the other day Dad said, “Look at how pretty our Lyssa can look even when wearing her Aunt Dot suit.” Referring, genially, to the turquoise sweatshirt and sweatpants that our loving (and quite rotund, it must be noted) baby-sitter used to wear when tending to my sister and I. The fact that I haven’t taken my dHas tux off once since I got sick, and then realizing that I was actually wearing it most parts of the days before I was stricken with this miserable cold pointed out a couple obvious things:

Who you think you are, and who you are may be two different things, but who you are is, for all intensive purposes* the person that appears externally to others. And right now, I appear frumpy and unemployed. Even to the two individuals who most love me: my parents. Furthermore, I hate to admit it, but—I really can’t expect any sweatpants romance to come of this (particularly given that whole, living with my parents in Lake Placid thing (not to mention the whole... sweatpants thing)).

No worries, this is not going to be one of those Sedaris-like accounts of how I nearly went mad living at home with my parents, but not mad enough to move out and find gainful employment. Nopers. The move-out will happen soon, gainful employment or not, and (fingers crossed) money will follow thanks to any number of positions I end up filling (dishwasher at Starbuck’s, first assistant to Ban Ki-Moon?? …no worries, my money-houndishness and common sense will prevail!). So, the feelers are out on the town (and country, and globe) and I’m sure something will come up. But until then, I’m practicing the interview skillz, brushing up on ma francais, and trying to remember what it is like to be an active member of society who spends her time doing things a tad more constructive than chasing Charlie, waddling to LP’s bars in a wetsuit, and getting owned by a pumpkin in the Halloween Fun Run.

PS- more insightful blather to come before I wrap up ze blog for a time; I just can’t write anything too insightful while I’m currently fighting a league of snot away from my precious brain. (no retorts about the value of my brain, thankyouverymuch!)