Rethink. Revamp

new face. new look.

trying desperately to forget about my earlier intruder, i resort back to the blog, posting my second entry of the day after a two month hiatus from the pastime.

i'm not sure, after 8 posts is it? whether or not the blog is for me... i enjoy it but it seems as though my inspiration comes sparingly after introducing my mind to the 9-5 grind, but i do seem to find consolation in knowing that what i produce here will become something of significance in relation to my snowballing success as a writer. or so it seems.

i look at it as my first project, my mini-memoir/novel/short story... which i wish to have in print complete with binding by the time i am 25. not this particular story, but several which seem to have shaped my career thus far as young professional in the city. the thoughts are all locked up safe in the mind, which distracts itself through incidents such as the previous we shall not mention, more often declaring itself tired enough to pass up creativity for 8 hours of good rest.

my boss travels quite frequently, giving speeches at conferences around the world, showing her expertise and understanding of the spa industry. i had the task of editing her speech for overlooked grammatical errors, and while editing, realized her words were effective, inspiring almost. even in her speech about trans-atlantic spa fusion, i found passion, excitement, and experience in her tone.

it wasn't that i was surprised, but impressed about how easily i was persuaded and attracted by the words of a speech, on a topic i know very little about, as content that empowers both the individual and those for whom its message is indented.

my blog feels lacking at times, as if i am trying to hard to write for something and not about something which has allowed me to do so in the first place. what did i miss in two months that could have been great for this wall? anything.

what will come tomorrow? if i'm lucky, my words are already there.

the one and only

today i saw the first cockroach i have ever seen in my whole lifetime. the first in 22 and 1/2 years. it walked triumphantly across my living room and stopped right in the middle of the open floor - basking in the flickering light of the television, which was, once again, tuned into a Bravo Top Chef marathon. i wanted to throw up.

i quickly ran to the kitchen, grabbing a glass but putting it back and frantically search for one glass that i could possibly sacrifice as the main accomplice in my act of pesticide. several glasses came to hand, but finally the smaller glass, which was once proudly a jar filled with Welch's grape jelly, came crashing down on the stationary beast, chopping off the antennae before settling tightly against the wooden floor.

a call to Margaret and her mother came almost instantaneously, with 45 minutes to pass of consoling and suggestions ways to end the frightful episode. nail polish and a cotton ball proved deadly; upon first shoving the toxin into the glass the thing squirmed and shuddered around the rim of the jar, twitched as fumes filtered into its infectious lungs and permeated the vanishing air supply; twitching slower before one last valiant effort before nestling close to its cotton torturer... all of this happening of a gut renching 1/2 hour of monotonous my staring and telepathic wishes for death. Top Chef was on the back-burner.

almost an hour hadgone by, my roommate returned, cleaned the spot on the floor, and vowed to report to our landlord. i took out the trash and scanned the room, rummaged through closets, peered under appliances, kicked and tapped on walls and radiators.

writing about it had to let my nausea out of my body, my anxiety about going to bed, and waking up to a clean sparkling apartment. one little will not ruin my apartment.

not this one. the one and only.

please.