Totally unnecessary, but totally called for.

By popular demand and due to a severe amount of procrastination, here I am, writing on this blog after months of cruel disuse. A few things indicate that I’ve waited way too long to post again – one being that I’m now in my third year, rather than my second, and two being the fact that WordPress has totally reworked their website since April when I last graced the bloggedyweb. Luckily though, I have managed to find my way to the “Add New Post” page, so I guess I might as well give it a shot. I figure if I can’t help the word count on my coursework that’s due in two days, the least I can do is throw a few paragraphs up on here. (And I mean that in the least projectile-vomit-sounding way possible).

How is life in jolly old England these days? Well, to be completely honest, it’s terrifyingly quick. Sadly, this version of speedy passage of time does not have the harmless connotation of first year. No, time passing quickly these days means impending visa applications, house searching, dissertation writing, job searching, and GRADUATING. I don’t really know why I put graduating in caps there when really it’s the most harmless thing on the list (after all, how scary can any event involving something called a mortar-board be?). Every item on that list comes sooner with the passing of each minute and that, my friends, is very, very, scary.

In a way, the future is exciting. It’s where I get to find an amazing job and do what I love and start to be an adult (no, I don’t need to know that adulthood is highly overrated). I like to think that if I had the guarantee of finding a job I’ll enjoy that pays for room and board (and shoes and clothes) I’d be far less stressed about life. I’d also feel a bit closer to that guarantee being a possibility if I had ANY clue whatsoever as to what I want to do with my life. These days I find myself going through a panic phase. Suddenly, “being good at writing” doesn’t mean shit, and I feel hardly qualified to do anything more than make you a cappuccino, plate up a pasty, and ask you if you’d like ketchup or brown sauce with that. The past three months have seen three different (unpaid) blog contribution gigs come and go, and in each instance, I found myself completely struggling. Not to toot my own horn or anything, but I always thought I’d be an amazing blogger. Hence, you know, the blog. But look at me! I am completely and utterly sucking at it, both here and on other peoples’ websites. How good of a writer am I when really, when it comes down to it, I don’t have all that much to say?

Now this all probably sounds a bit doomsday-ish, in terms of how I see both myself and the near future, but fear not, readers (all 2.5 of you). I am, when not spending too much time at the cafe, in excellent spirits. For one, I’m going to see the MOTHERFUCKING GOO GOO DOLLS on Monday. Yes, you read it right. In 48 HOURS, I will be front row (open floor, and I’ll be damned if I waste my one opportunity to lock eyes with Johnny Rzeznik) swooning to the Goos. Spare me your judgement as I OMG for ages. THE GOO GOO DOLLS. SO EXCITED!

I’m excited about non gig-related things as well. For example, here are three AWESOME reasons to be excited about right now, in order of arrival: 1. MAGGIE MCBRIDE. 2. LAURA WELLS. 3. KELLY HOPKINS. Now show me a person who is not excited by those three people and I will show you a blob of failure. You toss in Thanksgiving, and Christmas, and the fact that once those pass, the days will slowly stop becoming mind-numbingly short, and I pretty much cannot complain. Life is about the awesome people in it, not the random shit you have to work through, so following that logic, I’ve got the best life on the planet.

Please excuse my total lack on continuity in this post…really, it’s just a distraction from my looming essay. It seriously blows my mind how an hour ago I was immeasurably inspired and confident about those 1500 words and then, when I sit down to actually give it a go, I instantly am immersed in hopeless lethargy. And, even when I conquer the lethargy, it’s only to go on Facebook to chat with the person sitting next to me (Sam Wilson) or to hit up WordPress for a long over-due post. I’m really, really hoping that when it comes to my dissertation, my brain is a bit more cooperative.

What is my dissertation about, you ask? Why, what a good question! Sadly, my 1500 word doom is calling, and I don’t have the time to tell you about it. But tune in next time kids, because as possibly THE worst hook in blog-posting history, that’s what you’ll find out next time on the ludicrously unreliable blog of Transatlantic Kathy.

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2 Responses to “Totally unnecessary, but totally called for.”


  1. 1 maggiejoan November 14, 2010 at 9:26 am

    Okay, in order of appearance:

    a. Don’t worry about not knowing what to do with your life right now. In a way, that works out better because if you spend a year doing some random shitty job (or two random shitty jobs, in my case) then when the right thing comes along (even if it’s just what’s right for NOW) it’s easier to recognize.
    b. As far as inspiration goes, this is what I need to be an inspired photographer: a good night’s sleep, and a pair of fresh eyes- the latter comes when I go somewhere I either haven’t been in awhile, or haven’t ever been. I’m not sure this will work for writing but usually when you’re in a strange new setting your mind goes about a million times faster than it normally does.
    c. Writing on other people’s blogs: same deal. Also, maybe you’re just not interested in chronicling your abroad adventures anymore- think of something else you WANT to write about, and you’ll find the impetus to do so. Then again… when you’re writing continuously for three years for college, I can see why you might feel a little drained.

    That’s my advice. I see you in 9 days. HOLY SHIT.

    /end transmission.

  2. 2 Kelly November 23, 2010 at 5:54 pm

    That last paragraph made me laugh!

    I miss you so much! Feels like we haven’t talked at all and so much has happened!


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photo cred to myself and Maggie J. Moxie

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