I recently re-read my diary from eighth/ninth grade. Scary stuff. Between all the gushing about The Love of My Life (spoiler alert: he wasn’t it) and the whining about various teenage woes, one recurring item struck me.
On vacations, on weekends, after school, during school, seeing movies, hanging out with friends — it didn’t matter who I was with or what I was doing. I’d come home and detail the events of my days, arriving at the same destination: boredom. To paraphrase Third Eye Blind, I wanted something else to get me through this life, a life that certainly wasn’t charmed, semi- or otherwise. It was Snooze City, population me.
Cut to today. I finished my journalism master’s in June, eager to conquer the magazine world. I am still unemployed. Over these last few months, my junior high malaise has crept up all over again; I’m bored and frustrated sitting at home with no money and no job prospects. What’s a hopeful writer to do?
The idea to start a blog wasn’t new, but one I had previously pushed away. I didn’t have time to update, I didn’t have anything to say, I didn’t have a concrete theme, and most egregiously of all, I didn’t have a name. Clearly, I couldn’t take on such a responsibility.
But now, nearly four months after I moved back home, I know what else I need in this life: I need to write.
And so begins Catch the Sparks, a collection of random musings about life and pop culture. Here’s to not getting rusty, trying to land a job, and loving 3eb enough to name my blog after their song. Cheers.