So tell us about yourself

Grafton Travel Blog

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I've been feeling pressure from all these blog sites to write a little about myself. who am I?

Daddy's little girl.  Ballerina.  Animal Lover.  Marching band member.  Cheerleader.  Conformist.  Pot head.  Protester.  Traveler... 
I was born into middle class by American standards, affluence to the majority of the people in this world.  Daddy sat me on his lap and told me stories.  Mommy did my hair to make me look like a porcelain doll.  I performed in ballet recitals and took up horse back riding. I became a cheerleader.  I went to college to get my degree and got lost on my way.  I wandered into some mushroom fields, i fell on the slippery surface of alcohol laced louges and got tangled in the emotional teenage web of hormones which bred sexuality, jealousy, insecurity and all those "oh so" necessary feelings which give life to terms such as maturity, growth, and development.  And i came out victorious with a pretty GPA number, a loving boyfriend, a guilt free concious, and a slightly heightened sense of the world via a communications/sociology degreee.  I traveled the safe, yet exotic Europe.  I landed a cushy finance job, and squatted in "westchester" new york.  I've got myself all lined up to settle down, save money, buy a home, get married, have a kid, blah blah blah i could yak just writing this.  On paper, in theory, it looks the same as has been seen so many times before; rich, white, cheerleader, college, europe, job, family, another life prepackaged, carefully crafted and made to american standards...But each story has characher.  Each story is unique.  And it's not the bulleted timeline of someone's life that makes them who they are.  It's those moments in thought; of doubt, fear, questioning, love. 

So who am I then?  Well right now I'm a girl full of guilt and doubt.  For too long now I have sat comfortable in a life where every day I knew what to expect.  There was never fear that I wouldn't be able to pay a bill, that I would be alone, that I would be sick.  I was very comfortable.  Too comfortable.  Guiltily comfortable.  Like life shouldn't be this good for anyone.  It's not fair that I have it this easy.  Why should I be so lucky.  I had serious issues with allowing myself to be happy.  I needed to address my issues and the best way to make yourself feel better is by doing something for someone else.  So that's what I'm going to do.  International volunteering.  I quit my job and I abandoned my dog (not really she's living the life of larry in mass.) and I boxed up all my possessions and I'm on my way out of the country to get a new found perspective on life.  It's important to add that this is in part simply an immature way of dealing with things.  It'd be quite the accomplishment to maintain my life and add in the proper amount of humanitarian acts that I seem to be missing.  But at this point i've got the all or nothing mentality.  Truth be told hopefully this trip will show me how to live a balanced life that I can be content with.

EdwinOV says:
Loved reading your little story. Great painting too. Cheers, Edwin.
Posted on: Aug 01, 2008
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Well you're all going to laugh at this one. But life since last friday has already become seriously difficult for me. I was seriously spoiled. First of all I don't know this new area my mom moved to all that well. So if I want to find some place in the area my first step would be to google it. Well woudn't you know, my mom has no internet. Damn! So I guess I'll go to Starbucks, they have free internet, right? WRONG! THey haven't had free internet in nearly 5 years...where have i been? I'm moving to the other side of the world to expand on my complacent life and I don't even know what's going on at home! ha! Anywho, so i get the GPS from my sister in law, drive 31.2 miles to get to the nearest starbucks (yeah mom lives in eastbumfuck Mass) for a tall caramel macchiato topped with whipped internet disappointment. For those not in the know, nextel owns the internet rights at Starbucks and you need to sign up (pay $6 for 24 hours via the internet) before even getting to a Starbucks. So I can't resist the craving for one of my last marlboro lights as I sip my machiatto (totally worth it by the way) for the long 30 mile journey home. This life is hard. No internet at my fingertips. No shopping malls or starbucks around the corner. I hope our commerically driven Uncle Sam and his spindly fingers have infiltrated deep into the jungles of Thailand. Oh please let me find an internet cafe with a hybrid of Subway and Dunkin Donuts awaiting (kidding...I'll settle for locally grown donuts ;) ) But I do miss you couch on Broadway. I miss you Rockband. I miss you Subie. Most of all I miss you google!

I don't know how to write this... I had a friend. A mentor, if you will. She was an inspiration to me and I always looked up to her. I would do anything for her attention, for her approval. She acted as a big sister, she was my friend. I hadn't spoken to Michelle in nearly 6 years. She got a farm in Princeton and settled. I went off to college. We both got wrapped up in our lives and I think we both believed there'd always be that day. That day in the future. We'd run into each other. Go out for drinks. Catch up. And rekindle the friendship. If nothing more than keeping in touch with an email. We always assumed that day would come. Well Michelle Marsh and her husband Todd were killed in a car accident this weekend. They leave behind 3 beautiful children, Morgan, Tristan and Liam. I can't be at the wake. We all grieve in our own ways on our own time. She knows I love her. Everyone that knew Michelle loved her. She had such a warm beautiful personality. As a mother, as a friend, she was someone that people were drawn to.  I feel sorry for this world. It's a worse place without her.  If anything can be gained from this misfortune it's to remind yourself of how fleeting friendships, love, life can be.  Don't let it pass you by.  Next time you think "i wonder what s/he are up to?"...don't let it end there.  Pick up the phone and get in touch.  Because you never know when your last communication will really be your last.

wherethellismarnie says:
What the F? Where's all the pictures of baboon fucking I was promised?
Posted on: May 22, 2008
mickeyd302 says:
My sister was killed in a car accident several years ago. It always hits him when I go back home because after all these years I always expect to see her waiting for me and see never is. Sorry to hear of your lost.
Posted on: May 15, 2008
215 km (134 miles) traveled
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photo by: MarnieElder