My Plight/Life as a Writer

This was inspired by my lolligagging at “work” while I was watching Sex and the City and I was wondering for the thousandth time how exactly does Carrie Bradshaw live on the Upper East Side on a newspaper columnist’ salary.  Now my ex-bf said that pre-911,this was doable, but I don’t buy it. Or maybe I could buy it, but she has silly fashion obsessions where she’ll spend thousands upon thousands on shoes (and I’m still waiting on how “The Carrie Diaries” will foreshadow this.”)

So I went over to faithful Google and typed my thoughts in the form of a question. And the first thing that came up was a wonderful Buzzfeed article on how all the ways you’re not Carrie Bradshaw.  And some other blog post about how this girl never wanted to be Carrie and doesn’t know anyone who did either.  Which led me to yet another article on where NYC characters would actually be living at.  And Hannah Horvath came up, a character that I love and hate because I see too much of her Jewish neuroticism in my own life (which is only saw because I’m not a Jew) in my own personality.  And of course, I’m always drawn to writers, even if they’re fictional.  Actually, especially of they’re fictional.  I tend to scrutinize them with the same intensity as I do whenever I find out a show or movie’s been filmed in New York.

And I’ve also talked about other (white) fictional writers, but all of the others kind of got lucky with getting sweet writing deals, which always made me want to cry. How I’d love to write a semi expose of upper crust high school kids and make so much money I’d be able to rent a loft.  Or write about lesbians and snag a movie deal.

But Hannah is different.  She comes from a time where the print media is all but garbage and you have people on Craigslist posting that they’re starting a “magazine” and need writers. What they can’t pay you in you know, actual money, they’ll pay you with snacks or the warm fuzzy feeling of “experience.” As if that pays the bills. Or sometimes, it’s actual magazines! Part of me doesn’t understand why people think that those in “creative” fields will just happily work for free. As if we don’t have bills to pay and mouths to feed.

But screw Hannah for quitting a job at GQ because despite it being super cushy she didn’t want to be “stuck” there.  Like, girl, you work part time as a barista.  And Brooklyn. You better suck it up! I guess that’s what separates me from privileged folks. Because even though Hannah and those girls on 2
Broke Girls are poor, it’s still glamorous. And really Max? You don’t like that your boyfriend because he’s insanely wealthy and you gave him back a million dollars? Then again I guess it couldn’t be called 2 Broke Girls. 

Anyway, enough of my ranting on non-existent people.  Except that I kind of wish I could see a bit of realism when it comes to writing. Like I realized last year that I might not be able to make money writing novels. So maybe I should do articles. Or even do Buzzfeed.  But I don’t think my writing style is strong enough.  And my endings are atrocious.  I’m all over the place.  But such is life.

But I sorta kinda have a gig now that involves writing. And I can’t tell about it because it’s top secret (teehee !). But writing with a deadline is definitely different than writing for fun. Though I should swap the two because I often times don’t write as much as I should when it’s done “fun” and I don’t write with as much passion if I’m actually getting paid for it. Must find a balance. 

And now I’m going to eat Skinny Cow.  Here’s to horrible blog endings!

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Random

I like to burn incense. I think I got it from my grandmother. She was always burning frankincense (I didn’t realize this until after she died and started buying frankincense incense).

There’s a lovely health food store a few blocks from my house that is somewhat ridiculously expensive but I go there anyway because it’s closer than Trader Joe’s and I want to support black /local businesses sells packs of 100 incense(s?) for four bucks. Which is a bit of a steal, if you ask me!

So I buy that. And some kush (incense!) along with some essential oils that I burn in my diffuser, both to help me wake up/relax/open up my chakras.  And I’ll burn a combination of those throughout the day. Mainly the oil because it lasts longer and after a while the incense smokes starts to burn my eyes…

So, um, apparently, before my boyfriend’s family member (lol I’ve been watching too much daytime television) got kicked out, one of the reasons why they didn’t like me is because I was always burning frankincense and in her ignorant religious mind, I was clearly doing some kind of devilry on my boyfriend.

*head desk*

Ok, so I became really interested in witchcraft when I was younger, especially for my novel, which deals with witchcraft. Frankincense is definitely not something you use to “control” someone. If that were the case, why does the Catholic Church use it? Oh, that’s right, it’s for clearing a space!

And seriously, I’ve matured past the age of thinking I could put spells on people. I’ve watched The Craft enough times to know that stuff doesn’t work and that if it did there are dire consequences.  If I have to put a spell on my boyfriend to make him do what I want, then perhaps it’s time to rethink the relationship. 

Plus, if they were really that concerned about me doing witchcraft in the house, why not say something about it? I’m sure they prayed and stuff, but it’s not the same. So you accuse me of witchcraft. 

It’s. Just. Incense.