Airports are weird.

I was going to write a post about how much I love taking airplane flights by myself, but I'm much too tired, and I'm still in transit. Instead, I'm going to share some of the things that happened to me in airports the last few days.

A TSA agent asked if she could search my hair.  

I waited in lines.

This was the line for the OUTSIDE bag check at the Austin airport this morning.

I almost stayed in Austin, Texas because the airport was full of cute dudes.

My grandmother and I snapped some selfies while waiting for our flight.

We spent too much money on expensive airport food.

She doesn't know I took this picture.

 Greetings from the road, friends. Happy New Year!

Christmas in Photos

My mom and stepdad gave me a Dalek Christmas ornament, and a journal made with an actual record of The Beatles' Sgt. Pepper's album!

Yes, we had chili for Christmas dinner.

Perils of Online Dating

Now that I've reentered the horrible world of online dating, I've discovered that most men, at least the ones who seem to be interested in me, are incapable of stringing together more than one sentence at a time. Occasionally said men are incapable of even stringing together more than one word at a time.

These are some real first messages I've gotten from guys on the site I'm using:

Hey
Hi
nice pic
I think we need to go on a date...
Introverts unite! Hello, How are you?
Hi beautiful how are you can we talk please bc i really want to get to know u better 
You're beautiful
Your a knockout love (: Would you ever be interested in a FWB thing? 

And then, add to this list a "friend" of a friend's harassing me because said friend wouldn't date him.

Yeeeeeah.... Source

But honestly, do they really think that a simple "hi" is enough to woo me? I realize that I've railed against online dating before, and it's tendency to make me feel as though I was advertising myself.

But please. You need to at least make an effort to gain and keep my attention long enough to send you a reply. Let's all be honest here, if you at the very least can't be bothered to write Y-O-U instead of just "u," and/or don't know when to use "you're" and "your," then I probably won't be attracted to you anyway.

Every time I log in to the site, I wonder if I'm wasting my time. But I still find myself browsing through profiles and reading single sentence messages from inarticulate dudes who are probably just looking for booty anyway.

Stay tuned. There WILL be more complaining soon.

Same Old, Same Old

The last time we met our heroine, she was working at Starbucks and Rung Boutique and boyfriend-less.

Now, eight months later,

I'm still working at Starbucks and Rung Boutique.

I've applied for many other jobs. I interviewed twice and was rejected for both. I'm starting to get pretty discouraged.

I'm still single as hell.

I'm trying online dating again, and pretty indifferent about it.

I did NaNoWriMo, and failed. But I'm still working on my novel, which is a change from the two previous years' attempts. I actually managed to create a story I care about. I might have even won this year if I didn't work twelve hour days.

I've discovered one of my problems with my lack of plan for my life is too many choices. I get paralyzed by all the options. I could do anything with my life, and that's what's overwhelming. Having too many options is the same as having none.

I self isolate. The more time I spend alone, the more time I want to spend alone, until it all builds up and I feel completely and utterly alone...because I made it that way. So if I don't call or text, it doesn't mean I don't care. It just means I'm a hermit.

I love my two roommates even more than I did eight months ago. Honestly, I have no idea what I would do without them. They are family.

Eight Months Later...

It's been eight months since I last blogged. I stopped because I didn't have anything to say. I felt like anything I could possibly put into words here would be mere internet noise, not contributing anything to anyone, and certainly not worth anyone's time.

And in those eight months, I think I've realized something. Maybe that's not necessarily the point of writing, of blogging. Certainly a lot of people blog and write to help someone else, to contribute something. But maybe there's a whole other group out there who write for another reason.

Because they have to. Because they have words inside them that they have to put down, whether or not someone actually reads them and values them. I feel like this sometimes. I want to be a writer, although I can't quite figure out why. I've always kept a journal, albeit not always consistently. I've blogged for a few years now, also not consistently.

So what do I want to achieve with this renewed blogging effort? I'm still not quite sure. Perhaps it's more discipline in my writing, making more of an effort to write at all, even if it is just relaying my boring life to all seven of you who are actually interested.

This blog, like my life is a work in progress. I don't have my shit together, so bear with me, friends. I'll do my best to keep you entertained.