It's incredibly easy to write about thoughts and experiences. You put these abstract musings out there, or you recreate a series of events and the characters involved and don't really have to put much thought into it. But when it comes to the "about me" concept, I find myself perplexed and suddenly full of anxiety and fear of judgment. After all, you have to like me to want to read about me, right? Those of you who already know me will indulge me and smile knowingly at the things I write, but it's a writer's nightmare to only have the people who love you read your stuff. So, how do I present a character that has mass-appeal? She has to be someone that is intriguing and interesting and expressive enough to garner the attention of unknown readers. I want a following, dammit.
I wonder if that means I should start a Twitter account... Anyway...
Perhaps I should break it down into somewhat organized categories.
I'm sitting at my desk at my second job as a book editor, plugging away at this. I should be proofreading, but I'm leaving in an hour and my symmetry-obsessed brain doesn't like the idea of starting something new on a Friday. Monday is a more comfortable starting point. I got my first real grown-up job here, and am glad it's a bridge I never burned. Being here part-time, aside from supplementing my income, gives me a break from some of the frustrations of...
My primary job. I teach English at a local college. Most of the time I love my job. But my students have a tendency to frustrate me and make my world outlook incredibly bleak, especially when pertaining to the future. But I'm sure you'll read plenty about that along the way.
I love both of my jobs, and am grateful to have two jobs that put my extensive education (thanks Mom and Dad!) and passion for words to good use.
My parents are still married after 37 years. I am one of four kids, with the girls being in the middle, and the boys on each end. We're a pretty tight and crazy crew. The eldest of us passed away in 2009, and at some point I'm sure I'll discuss the impact that had on me, but for now, let's just say mortality became monumentally clear to me because of it. I love my family fiercely, and recognize what a rare construct we have, especially in this day and age.
32 years old. Single (well, separated, and in the middle of a divorce that could've been final 15 times over, but again, we'll get on that later), living alone for the first time in my life (whistle, clap, cheer). I live in North Jersey, and I'm glad to report that I am neither orange-tinted nor do I fist-pump.
I'd like to think I'm this delightfully eclectic and unusual melody of interests and likes, but I don't believe it's all that uncommon to be interested in things that may seem contradictory, like heavy metal and Fraggle Rock. The Literary Canon and poop jokes. Compartmentalization of interests and identity fell away with my early 20s. I watch Fight Club and cry at Tori Amos and Ani Difranco songs. I'm an Aries, I spend time in the gym, and I love to devote entire days to laying on the couch. Conversely, I love to be busy, hate to waste time, get my hands in a lot of things, and most of all, I love being creative. I love "projects" and idea exchanges. Creativity brings me to life. And I love to laugh as much as humanly possible. I don't care if it's cliche. We all know laughing makes everything better.
It is my sincere hope that, as time wears on, and as pointed ideas come to life here, you will discover more about me. Generalizing and listing information is like glancing at a painting.