Springtime/cleaning

A few weeks ago, I read a blog post about blog posts. I can't remember the blog or the author--I think I probably found it via Pinterest, read a post or two, then moved on--but it was a woman whose personal blog had become well-known and had acquired more followers and readers than her sisters (Hi guys!) and two overseas friends.

But because of her wide readership, or because the internet is a scary place where you never know who is reading or following you (virtually or in person...), or because you can should never be as honest as you want to be when putting something out into the world, her internet presence had changed, morphed into something not personal, something detached and distanced from her real life and self. Which for some, is okay. For others, it defeats the purpose of keeping a blog.

All of this to say, things are about to get personal.

I spent the last month away from social media, away from blogging and liking comments and perving on people's photos. I was still pinning crafts and recipes like a boss, but I hardly think that counts. In the past month, I have been poorer than I have ever been before, which has led to some creative meals and juggling of bills. And you all know how much I hate juggling. In the past month, I have lost my best friend of seven years and have been living in an empty apartment that is about to become even emptier. In the past month, I have quit my job at the underwriting firm and begun work from home as a program coordinator for a non-profit that provides tutoring to under-privileged children around the country. In the past month, I have had only two terrible hangovers, which, with the month I've had, is really not shabby.

In the past month, I have been rejected from the comparative literature PhD programs at both Berkeley (dashing my notions of actually being intelligent) and the University of Oregon (dashing my notions of being moderately smart). I'm still waiting on Chicago, but I'm not sure that this is my year, nor am I sure that I am ready to make the commitment to any PhD program, ranked number one in the country or fifty. We have had two visitors from New Hampshire in the past month, and decided that with my inability to not tell it like it is, New England is, for the moment, the best place for us. Nobody appreciates frankness better than a Bostonian, let me tell you. Plus at least in New England they can drive.

Truth be told, Seattle kicked my ass. Completely and unexpectedly. And I'd like to say I can take it, roll with the punches, give it one hundred and ten per cent and all that jazz, but I'm tired. And broke. And I needed to step back and breathe. It's early March now, and though it's not quite spring yet, and though metaphors of rebirth and regeneration are tired and wholly unnecessary, I am just glad the sun is shining, and that I'm starting to breathe again.