Who Knew?

It was Fall 2008, and I remember being so devastated that things weren't turning out the way I wanted them to. The guy I was so hung up on wasn't quite hung up on me, and I was growing increasingly agitated feeling so rejected, dejected and ultimately UNWANTED. I felt like the universe was conspiring against me, and that somehow, some folks up in the heavens were having too much fun watching me force myself into a situation that was so obviously not meant for me. I never actually thought I'd be saying this, but I'm really glad that those folks found amusement in my desolate situation, and yes, I'm thankful for the conspiracy as well, because now, things are just as they should be - and for good reason! We are now happily in love with other people, and if we decided to force a relationship out of each other that time, we might have missed the chance to meet the people we were actually meant to be with.

So I'm really glad David and I didn't work out, and I'm sure he is too. Who knew our parting would turn out to be the greatest thing that ever happened to both of us?♥ 

Where Can I Buy Some Wit?

I just realized that my writing has been nothing but terrible and incredibly self-absorbed.

How depressing.

Somehow I always find myself wanting to drop my head in shame after reading other writers' rants. They all seem so much more interesting, so much wittier and so much snarkier than me. Then I read the Juno screenplay again yesterday and felt even more of a loser (I was in the process of writing a new draft of my own) - I don't know how I could channel some Diablo Cody energy and be as smart and sassy a writer as she. For a moment there, I felt like a deadbeat wannabe scribe. 

They say many writers feel this way; miserable and forever discontent about their own craft. Nothing is ever good enough. Someone else is always better, and someone's work will always be superior to one's own. But I guess that's how life is, you look out and often find something better and more enticing, when in reality someone else from the outside is probably looking at you. So we're all just in this endless cycle of looking outward back and forth, staring at each other, deciding that the other's fate is better than ours. Humans are such complicated beings.

I think the only solution to my "writer's low self-esteem" problem is to believe that I am actually capable of being witty, snarky and clever. And if that doesn't work I'll just pretend that I AM all of those things...and MORE. And if that still doesn't work, then I'll just give up writing altogether.

or... NOT.