New Leaves
I remembered recently that my old livejournal was floating around on the interwebs. It took me a week to remember my password and to ensure my angsty teenage entries will in no way jeopardize my future success as a writer, a teacher, or a marriageable individual. I read the approximately 200 entries written over a period of five years, five formative years, mind you. Most are ridden with spelling errors and grammar mistakes; most include the name of a boy whom I no longer care to remember; most are utter tripe. I drank a third of a bottle of Tanqueray and sat down and wept.
I doubt anyone ever comes along anymore, but just in case, I've made my old entries private. I lingered on the site-management page for a moment. "You will have 30 days to reactivate your journal after deactivation. After 30 days all material will be deleted, and there will be no way to recover it." I'm not a fan of permanence. What if, I thought, I want to remember how it felt to be sixteen years old? What if this is the only writing I can find from that better-forgotten era of my life? What if there is something PROFOUND entrenched in the drivel, something life-giving and eternal in the balderdash? Better to save it, I resolved, just in case.
Though it's probably written in vain, here is a brief life update: After May 15th, I will be inducted into the Professional Organization of English Majors (POEM), which really just means I'll be waiting tables, drinking too much, and writing bad poetry. God willing, In August I'll be moving to South Korea to teach little people Engrish. I'm currently residing in that sprawling, sweltering, poorly-planned city, Atlanta, Georgia.
So, just in case any leftover fans from my formative years stop by, here are some links:
Facebook
Web-log
I hope you'll find the me attached to these sites less prone to typos and vapidness.
Kelley O.
I doubt anyone ever comes along anymore, but just in case, I've made my old entries private. I lingered on the site-management page for a moment. "You will have 30 days to reactivate your journal after deactivation. After 30 days all material will be deleted, and there will be no way to recover it." I'm not a fan of permanence. What if, I thought, I want to remember how it felt to be sixteen years old? What if this is the only writing I can find from that better-forgotten era of my life? What if there is something PROFOUND entrenched in the drivel, something life-giving and eternal in the balderdash? Better to save it, I resolved, just in case.
Though it's probably written in vain, here is a brief life update: After May 15th, I will be inducted into the Professional Organization of English Majors (POEM), which really just means I'll be waiting tables, drinking too much, and writing bad poetry. God willing, In August I'll be moving to South Korea to teach little people Engrish. I'm currently residing in that sprawling, sweltering, poorly-planned city, Atlanta, Georgia.
So, just in case any leftover fans from my formative years stop by, here are some links:
Web-log
I hope you'll find the me attached to these sites less prone to typos and vapidness.
Kelley O.