I'm Tired, So Wanna Pick Up Again

Trip to buffalo, 2021. I found this Janzen bathing suit from the 50's in an antique mall basement for $5. 

I used to type "b" into my browser address field and it would bring up the blogger homepage that I stubbornly keep this thing hosted on. Because in my heart I'm still 15 and this is still 2009 and I'm futzing around the attic with hot lights for some stupid reason to help me pretend I know how to take a photo and set up a camera. Instead I check in with myself, and realize it's not the streets of Buffalo, New York outside my window anymore, where it smells like fireplaces and crispy, cold air. My world doesn't feel small and hopeful, or nearly as romantic as it did when I was a teenager. This happens to everyone, but y'know, now I'm writing about it.

lmao, but I miss her. 

2009, Buffalo

I'm 30 now. I turned 30 this year. 

I have a life I had no idea how I would land when I was a teenager. I pay bills and work a job that is way beyond what I could have comprehended as a child and it humbles me every week (an understatement). I question myself constantly and I'm just as hard on myself now as when I was looking down the barrel of taking the regents exam. I wonder if making money is satisfying enough. I have family members who have died now who I thought would live forever. 

My boyfriend Jevins and I having a discussion in front of "The Meeting" by Fragonard at The Frick last year. I was laid off earlier in March, 2021 after a company downsize and looking back, even though I had some ROUGH patches of professional fear, I think I was happier in some ways then than I am now because I had a break.

I'm a dime a dozen now, which I guess is its own comfort. 

Here's my check-in: 

• I work in tech

• I'm naive but creative

• I'm satisfied by a sense of purpose and "fit" but I kinda lost my way. 

Still, I love trying to understand style anywhere I can, I like talking about why people want to express themselves a certain way. I love what Omondi's doing, her work is the closest thing I have to the feeling I would get after seeing someone shared a new blog post.

another one of my zillions of thrift store finds

Instagram sucks, I loathe TikTok, though I dig through Tumblr and Pinterest still, as this is where I can still fall down holes and remain a dinosaur of internet life comfortably. I miss magazines. I miss the feeling of waiting. I waited. If you are still reading this and had been in a position of waiting, welcome back. I hope I can satisfy something in us.