Intrepid Girl Reporter

Sunday, 8/15: o hai
August 16, 2010, 12:45 am
Filed under: life progress

I’ve been passing the time lately by writing lists. It’s an oddly satisfying habit, and one that the casual observer, seeing me in all my disarray, might not be conditioned to expect; but I like lists for the same reason that everyone else likes lists, which is to say that they impose a certain order on the world. And they’re fun to make, in a certain narcissistic way. Either you’re required to be self-involved, or you get to focus on how much you know (or don’t).

For those five of you who have noticed that I’ve been posting increasingly on my Tumblr and less onto here, and for the three of those five who might be disappointed about that state of affairs, rest assured: there is a plan, one that has to do (somewhat) with my (largely nonexistent, but still planned, really) website. But I suppose there’s a bit more to it than that: spending all of this time alone, or more or less alone, drives one away from introspection. I spend enough time without anything to distract me from my own thoughts. I don’t know that I need to go further. Or that it would be productive. It probably would be productive, in that I would be *forced* to write and therefore forced to improve my writing skillz, but I’ve spent enough years in my own head to develop a certain skittishness about going too deep. These are all issues that I should probably work out. Nonetheless, I’ve done okay so far. (Emphasis on okay.)

I’ve been trying to post more to Lancelot Sturgeon, too, but as much as I hate to admit it, those entries don’t come as naturally to me. I love it, I love writing about food and thinking about food and I want and I plan to get better, but I don’t feel as comfortable there as I do here. My voice here is well settled. People know me. And if they don’t know me, they don’t know my name, which, again, probably for the best. I want to be able to write about what I eat with the same frankness and enthusiasm with which I discuss basketball players’ nicknames or my children, but I’m still stretching into that form. I’m trying to abandon my self-consciousness. Hopefully you’ll see it by the side of the road soon.

The summer hasn’t been filled with much, a lot of crafting and some cooking, apple fritters from Pal’s, freelancing for too little money. If nothing else, this summer has allowed me to brush up on my knowledge of paracord tutorials, welding schools in Colorado, and how to locate the parts number of an iBook. I had this idea that I would make enough money freelancing to head to Geneva and visit Rooms, along with someone else that I met here in the States and liked very much, but it didn’t happen. So I went to move my little brother into His School, a well-known and lovely Southern institution that is, quite frankly, located in a swamp, instead. I have a lot of things I’ve assigned myself to work on, and I’m glad I have all this time, but despite myself, I’m starting to get a little itchy for movement.


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