(no subject)
I have been told by a certain blond bombshell that my updating frequency (or infrequency, rather), is completely unacceptable. And I think I really should step it up a notch. 2008 was pretty apathetic as a whole, and 2009 is not going to go down that road, not without a fight at least.
It is January 19th. I'm effectively 23 1/2 years old as of the 17th. So at the monumental age of 23.5, where is my life at? I live in New York City. I work as a Private Banker. I'm about as single as you can get. And I have a great rack. I think NYC is starting to finally grow on me. Either that, or I'm grudgingly accepting the fact that I'm here for a little while longer at the very least, and I should enjoy my youth while I can. I've had more fun in the first 19 or so days of 2009 that I did in the last half of 2008. I'm taking any opportunity to spend time with friends, get out there, do things, and have fun. It's the only way to meet people, make more friends, and to keep having fun. I can't wait for fun to find me! I have to track it down myself, crocodile hunter-style. Isn't that a great mental image?
Work is... well, I think I should stop writing about work as much as I used to. There is no point in my talking about it until I know what I want to do, where I want to go, and what I want to make of this experience. That being said, I'm incredibly thankful that I am (somewhat) gainfully employed in an industry that is crumbling, while we are in or on the verge of a depression. Job security is nothing to sneeze at, and I'm lucky to be working in a place where I feel appreciated and respected. Plus, my coworkers are a great time.
I finally broke through my writer's block, which I've had for at least 6 or 7 months. Maybe more. That made me happy. It means the old me is coming back. I went and got myself a trainer, because honestly, I'm young once. Now is the time to look fantastic and enjoy my life. Not when I'm 35 and can technically afford it. Besides, it's cheaper than liposuction. And less painful. I'm excited, and already feeling great about myself.
I'm proud of myself, because I'm opening up to people again. I'm letting them into my life. I realize now that I was shutting a lot of people out in that stubborn desire of wanting to be wanted. I was a pretty hot mess. I don't know what had gotten into me. But fear not! The long hair, excessive eyeliner, gigantic earrings, and cleavage (all my trademarks, which for some reason, I'd tried to stifle) are baaaack.
I'm happy. I've missed being me.
It is January 19th. I'm effectively 23 1/2 years old as of the 17th. So at the monumental age of 23.5, where is my life at? I live in New York City. I work as a Private Banker. I'm about as single as you can get. And I have a great rack. I think NYC is starting to finally grow on me. Either that, or I'm grudgingly accepting the fact that I'm here for a little while longer at the very least, and I should enjoy my youth while I can. I've had more fun in the first 19 or so days of 2009 that I did in the last half of 2008. I'm taking any opportunity to spend time with friends, get out there, do things, and have fun. It's the only way to meet people, make more friends, and to keep having fun. I can't wait for fun to find me! I have to track it down myself, crocodile hunter-style. Isn't that a great mental image?
Work is... well, I think I should stop writing about work as much as I used to. There is no point in my talking about it until I know what I want to do, where I want to go, and what I want to make of this experience. That being said, I'm incredibly thankful that I am (somewhat) gainfully employed in an industry that is crumbling, while we are in or on the verge of a depression. Job security is nothing to sneeze at, and I'm lucky to be working in a place where I feel appreciated and respected. Plus, my coworkers are a great time.
I finally broke through my writer's block, which I've had for at least 6 or 7 months. Maybe more. That made me happy. It means the old me is coming back. I went and got myself a trainer, because honestly, I'm young once. Now is the time to look fantastic and enjoy my life. Not when I'm 35 and can technically afford it. Besides, it's cheaper than liposuction. And less painful. I'm excited, and already feeling great about myself.
I'm proud of myself, because I'm opening up to people again. I'm letting them into my life. I realize now that I was shutting a lot of people out in that stubborn desire of wanting to be wanted. I was a pretty hot mess. I don't know what had gotten into me. But fear not! The long hair, excessive eyeliner, gigantic earrings, and cleavage (all my trademarks, which for some reason, I'd tried to stifle) are baaaack.
I'm happy. I've missed being me.