How could I forget the 15th of July (or of any 15th of the month for that matter of fact)? The 15th is usually when a new issue of GQ comes out. Needless to say, my vacation is distorting time and days and I was very shocked to see the new issue out (with Channing Tatum on the cover, but for the sake of this journal I decided against a shirtless picture of him) while I was at the supermarket. All is right with the world now. All is right.
The free wireless has come back and for now I am using it until the cable guy comes tomorrow to install ours. I know I have only 3 weeks left but I've been without the Internet for so long that I would rather continue to still someones wifi then wait an extra day. I am very addicted to this thing. Though I have the Internet for a while, I am pretty much going to spend the rest of the night reading my GQ magazine. I do this every month and find solace in the arms of fashion and entertainment layouts.
It's going to be very weird going back to New York because if all works out I will be able to actively look for an "adult" job by November. Marie holds the fact that I do not have, what she calls, an "adult job" this against me. Every time we are on the phone she manages to throw in a snide remark about my job situation. Sometimes she is downright rude about it. She has rubbed it in my face several times that she makes more money than I do and that while I flounder around at my "high school age" job she has a real one, where she makes a salary instead of a hourly wage. I know, I don't know why I am still friends with her.
I don't take it to heart, because...it's Marie, and a phone conversation without some conversation like that would be unusual. I do love my job at the bookstore, but I don't (and can't) work there forever. In all honesty I don't even know if book publishing is my thing, but I at least need some entry level job for the experience if not the longevity.
I go back and forth about what I want to do. Sometimes I want to be in production other times I want to work in Magazine. And sometimes I want to be a freelance writer with a photo journalist boyfriend who I can travel the world with documenting what we see together on our magical adventure. He can be the eyes while I am the words for the stories we decide to tell. But for now that is a secret passion of mine that is hidden by the reality of my life.
Though this vacation was suppose to be my own personal writing seminar of sorts, I have yet to do anything that resembles writing. I don't know what it is. I need guidance and focus and because I lack those two things I just stare at a blank screen for half the day or worse I don't stare at all. I busy myself with movies and books and then before you know it is 11pm and I am watching another episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm. It's a pretty sad state because I really want to pursue a writing career but that sort of requires writing and for some reason my head can't get around it. I don't know what I am doing with myself and it is driving me crazy.
On the reading level I have made a dent in Rules of Attraction by Bret Ellis, and though it is not my favorite novel by him, I do like it. My college experience did not resembled his version at all, but you know...I guess it does somewhere. I am also reading this book called Rebecca. It's really old school but the plot sounded dramatic enough to stir my interest. I am hoping that by reading all of these books I will be able to recognize the style of writing that I am drawn too and then be able to write. So far, not so good. I just end of comparing myself to said writer and wondering why I can't pen a novel at 23 like Bret Easton Ellis did (at 21, I think).
I'm starting to feel washed up, even before I made a literary dent somewhere. Must get myself out of this rut. Must get myself out of this rut. Must.
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