A friend once told me I was like a real life manic pixie dream girl, which given the ukulele, I get. I've never been one to draw brooding men out of their shells though.
I've only been asked seriously if I was a lesbian once by an acquaintance who couldn't get over the fact that I didn't have a boyfriend. Like if you added it all up it didn't make sense because I was pretty enough and smart enough and normal enough so obviously there was no logical explanation to my singledom except that I hadn't found the right girl yet.
In my junior year of high school, someone told me I was beautiful in a text message but it was so awkwardly slipped in, I thought it was a typo.
Several people called in to our radio show this year and told us We were great and They totally loved our show and Listening to us on the way home made their day and Could we play this song?
Last summer, someone quoted a piece of my own writing back to myself.
Everyone I know over the age of 45 tells me journalism is dying. They want to know if I have a backup plan, not that they don't think I'll make it because I'm a very bright girl, of course, but have I thought about PR at all?
When I was 18 my mom told me that I really have to stop calling myself a girl because I'm a woman now. It's just that I feel distinctly in between.
I was told I was both a terrible editor and a great editor this year. My guess is the truth lies somewhere in the middle.
Indirectly, someone told me to keep writing earlier tonight.
A terribly great editor?
ReplyDeleteYou are Elika, the Great and Terrible!
ReplyDeleteBell out of order
Please knock.
Striking fear into the hearts of freelancers everywhere.
ReplyDelete