As I've been muddling along on the internets, trying to find something to entertain me other than the hours of Facebook stalking that I've already accomplished (people are just so interesting), a thought popped into my head. A thought that was sparked by two separate things within the past two weeks. The first comes from a close friend who was thumbing through the favorite tabs at the top of my web browser and commented on how I posted once on this blog and then basically left it in the dumpster. The other comes from some late night browsing on etsy where I read that they were looking for a blog intern, a PAID blog intern, and if I didn't have to move to Brooklyn I would have totally applied, but the other catch was that they wanted to read your blog. Now, this is not to say that I am writing here as a means to build up my blog, much like credit, in order to achieve something. It was instead a second friendly reminder that, hey, I haven't really blogged since I was living in Hungary, and it was just so pleasant to do. But, I mean, it does also help to build my catalog of blogs. So, I decided to check out this blog that I designed six months ago. Actually, it was exactly six months ago that I last posted, and as someone who thinks that silly things such as that are a sign, I took it as such and determined that I needed to look at it. I then promptly decided that I really disliked my blog visually, and so, I completely changed it, which I hope helps in that whole creative process thing.
I still don't really know what this blog is about, or if it needs to be about anything. I suppose, if I'm looking for something specific it could be dubbed something rather abstract, as "an outlet", but that just sounds so moody. So, I find it better to be honest. I'm hoping that with far too much free time, even with my full-time summer job, and the events that are bound to ensue from said job, combined with an interesting smattering of people that I come into contact with, I will have something worthwhile to talk about, and if anything, I'm sure at least a few funny stories will come about.
Which leads me to my first topic of pondering. As of late, middle-aged men keep trying to pick me up. Both in kosher, and non-kosher settings. Only one or two have actually seemed like suitors with potential, the others uneducated deadbeats. Non-kosher setting number one is the urology office. Let it be known that one of my doctors shares an office space with said urologist. But really, what makes you think that while I am impatiently waiting for my late doctor that I want to talk to you (and listen to your bad pick-up lines) when I know that you are there to talk about your nether regions? Non-kosher setting number two involves a gynecologist's office. I was again, not there for myself, but waiting on someone else and the sales rep is eyeing me up. Am I supposed to take this all as flattery? Do I sound like a complete and spoiled brat? Who knows, I hope not, but quite frankly, I need to start finding a way to extinguish the conversations before they get off the ground.
The second related topic of pondering of this evening is something that my best friend and I keep experiencing. It is this: passersby talking to us. And I don't mean a friendly hello or, "You dropped your bag." I mean (and this are direct quotes), "Your hair's wet!" (yelled by a man out of the window of an old Chrysler van in Philly), "That kind is the best!" (in reference to the trail mix we had just purchased from Target by a Target employee), "You know, I find that they mix everything up, you find the fiction in with the non-fiction..." (said by a creepy middle-aged man in the Westminster Goodwill when I asked why a book titled Worst Laid Plans: When Bad Sex Happens to Good People (it's wonderful) was located in the Men's Health section), and there were probably one or two more. All of these are doors to conversations. If anyone has any opinion as to why they think we attract overly friendly, and frequently strange people, be my guest as we are slightly perplexed. Our only conclusion, "We must look too nice." Looks like we need to go back to our days of being icy and intimidating.
I still don't really know what this blog is about, or if it needs to be about anything. I suppose, if I'm looking for something specific it could be dubbed something rather abstract, as "an outlet", but that just sounds so moody. So, I find it better to be honest. I'm hoping that with far too much free time, even with my full-time summer job, and the events that are bound to ensue from said job, combined with an interesting smattering of people that I come into contact with, I will have something worthwhile to talk about, and if anything, I'm sure at least a few funny stories will come about.
Which leads me to my first topic of pondering. As of late, middle-aged men keep trying to pick me up. Both in kosher, and non-kosher settings. Only one or two have actually seemed like suitors with potential, the others uneducated deadbeats. Non-kosher setting number one is the urology office. Let it be known that one of my doctors shares an office space with said urologist. But really, what makes you think that while I am impatiently waiting for my late doctor that I want to talk to you (and listen to your bad pick-up lines) when I know that you are there to talk about your nether regions? Non-kosher setting number two involves a gynecologist's office. I was again, not there for myself, but waiting on someone else and the sales rep is eyeing me up. Am I supposed to take this all as flattery? Do I sound like a complete and spoiled brat? Who knows, I hope not, but quite frankly, I need to start finding a way to extinguish the conversations before they get off the ground.
The second related topic of pondering of this evening is something that my best friend and I keep experiencing. It is this: passersby talking to us. And I don't mean a friendly hello or, "You dropped your bag." I mean (and this are direct quotes), "Your hair's wet!" (yelled by a man out of the window of an old Chrysler van in Philly), "That kind is the best!" (in reference to the trail mix we had just purchased from Target by a Target employee), "You know, I find that they mix everything up, you find the fiction in with the non-fiction..." (said by a creepy middle-aged man in the Westminster Goodwill when I asked why a book titled Worst Laid Plans: When Bad Sex Happens to Good People (it's wonderful) was located in the Men's Health section), and there were probably one or two more. All of these are doors to conversations. If anyone has any opinion as to why they think we attract overly friendly, and frequently strange people, be my guest as we are slightly perplexed. Our only conclusion, "We must look too nice." Looks like we need to go back to our days of being icy and intimidating.
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