I write you, but I’m not in write with you.

I swear, I still exist! I’ve been trying to stay more active on twitter, I’ve been trying to stay off of facebook, I’ve been reading other people’s blogs…. and you’ve been neglected. And for that I’m sorry. I’m really hopeful that once I’m just in grad school, instead of working, running around getting ready for grad school, having anxiety dreams about failing grad school and sitting quietly panicking about the day I actually have to turn in some grad school caliber work…. I’ll have more to say. To you guys. In person I have plenty to say.

Funny how the rituals of getting ready for school don’t really change from those formative years – I still need new shoes, a new pair of jeans or two, some new shirts. I want to be taken seriously in a Very Serious Writer sort of way so I got some cute Mad-Men-y dresses…. I’m pondering how to dress in such a way that I put forth a professional, capable sort of vibe without… you know…. needing to wear panty hose ever. As someone who gushes and giggles and gets very silly and lauds everything Ewan McGregor or Hugh Jackman is in with little to no critical scrutiny (ok except for Young Adam and Blue Juice because come freaking on), I know it may be a challenge to hold my own against Columbia’s crop of Dedicated Novelists and Profound Poets, so I want to make sure I look the part of Critic/Essayist/WTF AM I?!??!

This month the Band Back Together (where I am an occasional contributor, under a different name) is doing a great series of I Am posts, along with a theme of gratitude, and I’ma take a minute to get all affirmationy about who I am as a writer, and of course, how grateful I am to understand this and just…be myself.

To apply for a guest lecturer’s seminar on essaying, I need to submit a one-page piece by next week, and it can’t be personal essay or memoir…and suddenly my mind is blank. I may come up with a review, or clean up a blog entry like the geeks and inclusion essay I did a while back, or do a lil research and write about a favorite Brooklyn place or summat activisty. I’m spoiled for choice, and sometimes it feels like I’m only looking at loose ends.

I also can’t think too much about whether everyone has already said everything I was just about to say. Like…literarily speaking, I can’t worry that I’m bringing nothing to the table because… you know what, there’s never been a ME and if I have to go all Stuart Smalley on myself, so be it 🙂  I have to write for the audience I care about the most instead of being self conscious that Eustace, God Of Ivy League Attitude, will be listening in and smirking in his vintage vest and thick plastic glasses frames and elbow patches.

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