I’m a writer!

I read somewhere that the definition of happiness is “moving toward your own potential” and I love that. It explains why the pursuit of goals is enjoyable, and helps me to appreciate the journey, the movement towards, and not get too hung up in waiting for the goal to be met to enjoy things. So what am I enjoying? I am fucking loony about reading and writing. They are two loves of mine that I kind of forgot about. I’ve been wracking my brains for years trying to figure out who I am and what my “purpose” is, and I feel like it was just sitting in front of me the whole time, waiting for me to come out of an alcoholic haze and flick on the lightswitch that was under my finger the entire time. WORDS. Words are power, punch, guts, heart, tears, lives, everything. They are art and they are passion. I am over here trembling at the thought of what power lies at the end of this proverbial pen.

It is so scary. It also means responsibility. But I know now that I need to write. I know that a lot of it won’t be any good for a while, and I need to be okay with that. I am suddenly overwhelmed by the desire and excitement of observation. I need to see and experience the world in a a vivid and different way if I’m going to write about it. It’s the complete opposite of getting a little tipsy and basically forgetting to notice anything at all (which I have definitely been guilty of). My memory is dim and that makes me sad. I’ve been so lucky to experience so much, and yet so foolish to dull the shine of those memories with alcohol.

I also don’t know if I’ve ever been proud to tell someone my job title. Even when I was the Deputy Direction and Associate Vice President of a University, I thought it sounded so pretentious…I just couldn’t say it. I said “university admin.” I’ve dreamed of an elevator speech I’d be proud of, and writer does that for me. Oooh…what about, “I write novels.” Even the sound of the word “novel” makes me zing with joy. I love novels! How cool would it be to have that be associated with me? ME!? It’s weird, but it is the thing that scares me the most, so I know it’s the thing that I have to do. Even if it’s terrible, I’m writing. I AM A WRITER.


After being off work for nearly one week, I feel like a new woman. I spent the morning doing some planning for this little blog here, trying to decide what shape I want it to take, and I think it will be focused around one central topic that everyone is concerned with: me. It will mostly be a travel blog, but I’ll try to also tell funny stories about my day and share the little idiosyncratic things about life in Japan.

Today was a particularly good day. I got my hairs cut (just a smidge) and then ran some errands. At the post office, I was shocked to discover I had FIVE packages. Giddy with glee, I skipped home to open all my completely unexpected presents! They are wonderful gifts, but mostly I just feel so loved, and so happy to have such a wonderful family and amazing friends that are so thoughtful. I can’t tell you all what it means to me to know that I’m in your thoughts.

I didn’t bring a lot of stuff with me to Japan, and so I’ve had to purchase many basic (cheap) things for my home. This has left it bland, and without character. It makes me long for a place that has been “lived in” and reflects memories, travels, and love. These small items from my loved ones help me to make this place a home, and remind me of how very lucky I am. Now I’m off to go put on tons of my new gold and sliver eye shadow, eat chocolate, and listen to new music from my speakerpillow! YES!