The First One

I've always been very intrigued by blogs...well journals and diaries in general. But to broadcast personal thoughts to the world--well, that's just a new level of journaling (that's probably not a word). What value does this add to the community? Who actually reads this stuff? Perhaps it's not anything tangible or concrete...but the mere fact that the possibility is out there in this ocean we call the internet seems pretty exciting.

The last time I tried blogging was when it first started becoming popular. I was in college and thought, 'wow, how neat would it be to broadcast my private thoughts without being liable for what I say and no one I know will know it's even me'. Well, that didn't really last long, I got quite bored of it all pretty quickly. Let's see if this changes 5 years later.

I just returned from a weekend on the Jersey shore. Nothing I had done this weekend was spectacular. It was pretty standard 20somethings' fun--beach, liquor, barbecue. It was nice to get out of the city for the weekend, but no matter where I go I always seem to have a small spot in my heart that misses the city I grew up in. I'm not quite sure what the allure of it all is for me--the fact that there's so much going on all the time? The diversity? Nostalgia? Maybe home is just...home.

Every trip I take, be it a weekend in Jersey or a week in Europe, I feel like I learn something new about myself. This weekend I've learned (or rather, confirmed) a few things about myself. 1) I am a very jealous person 2) I'm easily irritated and...3)It seems that I am apparently too snarky and too cynical on the exterior for anyone to want to get to know the other layers of me (the softer lighter sides)...aside for entertainment/novelty purposes only. This is somewhat disappointing for me. I'm not sure I've ever actually dated anyone I've truly ever liked and clicked with in my life. In retrospect, all my previous boyfriends, crushes, dates were people I was mildly interested in, and for safety reasons I would venture into these things and of course, safely exiting them...more or less unscathed. For the first time in my life, I think I really want to be intimidated by someone's wit and well, awesomeness but at the same time still have them want to get to know what else is behind my sarcastic cynical disposition. I'm almost a walking contradiction--cynical yet I trust any stranger coming up to me; skeptical yet a hopeless romantic deep inside. I'm afraid no one will ever see this about me, I'd be pigeonholed forever as that bitter new yorker. I write about this with a certain sadness, but at the same time I know I will never change this, it's just who I am and I'm not capable of pretending to be someone I am not just so everyone will like me. I hate being fake and I'd only be lying to myself if I decide to act that way. Sometimes I tell myself if people don't care to get to know me better from the first impression of me, then they're probably not worth my time and perhaps they're the ones losing out; but I'm not so sure I completely believe this myself sometimes.

I know I cannot make everyone like me, but for some reason I can't stop trying.

On every trip I take, I tend to look out into the vastness and think of one person. They know who they are deep inside, hopefully.

Anyway, my Memorial Day weekend wasn't too bad. I rather enjoyed it; but like all days, I have a quiet unspoken sadness hanging over me--most likely for the reasons above.