steph ho: i’m relatively naieve about this stuff
steph ho: drugs, sex, alcohol… rock and roll, not so much
me: STORY OF MY LIFE. i can’t wait til i have a memoir
steph ho: lol honey you should start writing now
steph ho: its gonna be as long as roots
Reblogged because I’m oh-so-hilarious. (And right. Muahaha)
Today in all my sneezy, snotty glory I read a bunch of Faulkner (Absalom, Absalom is shaping up to be utterly magnificent) and plowed through my entire RSS backlog of Thought Catalog posts.
I mean, to be honest, I’ve only been poking around their site for a month now, but in that short period of time I’ve already been disenchanted of the site and most of their writers (except the ones I posted above, of course). So many of them voice that whiny 20-something entitlement/I’m sooooo jaded/OMG TURNING 22 = EPIPHANY and it’s… almost embarrassing.
Jesus. do I sound like that? Think like that? How do I stop? Who edits that site? What the fuck? Reading TC has pretty much killed any writing I attempted/had planned on doing for fear of producing something I’d be ashamed of ten minutes after I hit publish.
(Well, actually, I haven’t figured out quite what the lesson is yet since I’m still kind of wallowing in despair. Yeah, melodramatic much?)
All I wanted was a nice, interesting job in Silicon Valley. Unfortunately, as things stand now, it will probably take me much, much longer to get out there, if I ever get out there at all.
Was that really so much to ask for? I’m smart, capable, friendly, and tech-savvy with pretty killer writing skills… someone please just give me a chance.
I know I’ve been rather text-heavy lately but whatever. I DO WHAT I WANT.
Yesterday I saw bluebonnets along 114 in Dallas ♥ Ahhh every time I go back I remember how much I miss that place. (However I know I really want to live somewhere new, try something different…)
Anyway, Terminal D makes DFW possibly the most baller airport ever. I was kind of dreading the five hour wait until my flight, but I ended up day drinking at the Irish pub with two Brits and an Iowan. The Brits tried to explain cricket and regional accents while we tried to explain fraternities and football. Hilarity ensued.
But almost immediately after, I got a call from Palantir… it was a no.
Apparently everyone loved me but I just wasn’t an engineer. Like if they had hired me, I would have been the first pebble of some liberal arts landslide.
(^ That joke is me pretending to not be absolutely devastated.)
*sigh* I don’t think I should have allowed myself fall so in love with the people and the company and the location. It was a long shot and I knew that but goddammit I would have been so happy there.
I suppose it might all be for the best in the long run. Or something. I think. Well, that’s what I kept telling myself in the bathroom between blowing my nose and hosting my own pity party.
At least some random lady came up to me and gave me a hug. Yay Texas.