As many of you may know, I’ve been visiting a lot of blogs lately. To be honest this experience has been both interesting and harrowing in its own way. I see people who are depressed, happy, or more often a bit of both. Most of these posts are boring, mainly because I can somehow feel that this person was not being true to the audience. That they were somehow lying to their audience.
With the year (about) that I have been blog-hopping, I have discovered something cool. Every blog is different in its own special way, but there is one main ideology behind each successful one. The way to really connect with someone is to really be honest in how you feel. The more you connect to the reader, the more they will enjoy reading your post, no matter what.
Anyone can be a good writer. A good writer is constituted as having good grammar, good mechanics, nice structure. But that doesn’t attract people. It’s not what strikes people in the heart. People get honesty, because they can emphasize with it. Good writing can definitely get you somewhere, but honesty really gets you to the point where you want to be in your writing.
And that is probably why I keep looking at blogs even though I’m so busy with other areas of life (classes, finding a job, etc). Sure, there’s a lot of people with bad writing out there, but if there’s honesty, there’s something to be learned. It teaches everybody a lesson.
So this is my point. If I can express something that other people can just feel in them, then I believe I have succeeded. We all live in the same world, and I feel that my world is pretty much the same as yours. We’re all the same, even though we give each other all of these labels to show how we are somehow “different”. All of these differences are not important. Inside, we are the same person.
“Why would I date a writer?”, you ask. You should date a writer because she will write about everything. She’ll write about the things that you did together, or the things that she wishes you’ve done. She will write about the time you held her hand at Starbucks, and how warm she felt for the rest of the day. She will write about how, during a mellow summer evening when the two of you just started dating, you asked her to reach for something in the cabinet, and when she gave it to you, you looked at her with such intensity. And that’s when she realized she had already fallen in love with you.
You should date a writer. You should date a writer because she will write about everything. She will write about how you look in the morning, and how you were so beautiful even when you were sleeping. She will write in great detail of your lives together, and her words will make ordinary events sound like music.
You should date a writer. You should date a writer because she will write about everything. She will write about how she was tired, but she stayed up anyway to talk to you because you asked her. Or that time where she really wanted to keep talking to you, but you said no. She will write about how you broke her heart when you said that “It’s all for the best”, and of how you no longer wanted to work on the relationship.
But you will also learn about how she fixed your door before you came back home because she wanted you to feel safe after having your house broken into. Or about the time she tried making you breakfast in bed, burning herself in the process, and had to throw away the food on multiple occasions because she wanted everything to be perfect. Or about the time when she woke up at 4 in the morning to get your favorite flowers from the farmers market because she couldn’t afford the ones they sold at the mall and she knew how happy they make you.
Or about the time when you were sick, and she came by to see if you were okay. It was raining really hard out, and it was dark, so she didn’t see the slippery part of the sidewalk and she slipped. She won’t tell you how she twisted her ankle and the taste in her mouth as she laid on the sidewalk. Or how she limped all the way to your place. She had a key to your apartment, and there were no words to describe how good it felt to enter your place unannounced. She will tell you how, after she made sure you were safe, she limped back home. She shook from the wind but felt safe because you were.
You will learn that when she first told you that she loved you, she had never felt so relieved and scared at the same time. And when you said that you loved her back, it sounded like a promise she did not dare believe.
You should date a writer. You should date a writer because she will write about everything. She will write about the promises of love, and how she will always love you even if you didn’t love her anymore.
Inspired by “Never Date a Writer” — xstephens (Redbubble)
The morning started out as it normally did. I woke up early as usual, the quiet sounds of the morning chirping in the air, the day still cold. My roommate forgot to turn off her TV. I could hear the Game of Thrones theme song playing through the wall, the sound reminding me that I haven’t finished the latest season.
I stood up from my bed, my head aching from general lack of sleep. My mind was still a blur, causing my motor functions to slow down. It was so early that at first I didn’t realize that it was already the next day, and that I have a lot of work to do before the day is over.
After brushing my teeth and running my fingers through my hair, I decided that I was just going to go eat and work out before my classes started. I walked into the living room, and I saw my roommate. I pause for a moment, surprised that she had gotten up so early. She apparently had yet to change from her clothes from last night. Her face looked like it was carved from stone: filled with disappointment.
“When did you get back?” I asked her.
“A few hours ago.”
“You haven’t slept at all?”
“Nope. Decided it was a waste of time.” That made sense. What was the point of going to bed if you have class in two hours?
“Did you have fun last night?”
“Nah, not really.”
“My date ditched me for some other girl.”
“Yeah, can’t be helped. What did you do?”
“Nothing much. Just watched some Netflix and went to sleep.”
She nodded, and finished her food. After a while, she changed and headed for class. I scrolled through the news on my phone, seeing if I had missed any major news that happened overnight. Nothing major had happened.
The microwave beeped in it’s usual annoying manner. I quickly got my food out.
And right when I sat down to eat, I remembered you. Right at the moment when I started my computer, and the smell of coffee still strong in my nose. It was that moment when I realized that you were no longer the first thing on my mind.
This came as a complete shock to me. After months of listening to sad love songs, of self-pity, of waking up feeling like I was missing something, of blaming myself for not “doing better” in the relationship, I had just woken up to a morning where I didn’t feel like a big part of my life was gone. And apart from the shock that was this realization, I saw how such a moment could be so mundane. All this was happening while I was at my desk, opening up Hulu, and looking like someone who just rolled out of a trash can. It was a moment that was as anticlimactic as one could be.
Yet, I felt like it couldn’t have been any better. Even though this moment was lacking any of the drama that I was expecting, I felt as if a great weight had been lifted from my shoulders.
“Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance you must keep moving.” – Albert Einstein
The word “preppy” means different things to different people. But what image comes to mind when the word is said?
Do you think of someone who is well off, dressed in pastel colors, with gelled hair? The Merriam-Webster dictionary describes the word as “Someone who dresses or acts like a student at a prep school (such as by wearing neat, somewhat formal clothing or by using particular words and phrases)”.
Since starting college, I’ve been looking into switching up my style. After two and a half years, I felt as if I had found the style that fitted my personality. In the past year or so, I’ve described myself as being preppy, not only in terms of dress but also in the morals that I believed in. To me, being preppy meant setting yourself to a higher standard and putting yourself second, if not third. I guess I’ve always had these inner standards. It just took time for my outer self to match my inner one.
In many ways, I see being preppy as being respectful of traditions and history. It is being respectful of where you come from, and the belief that just because something is new does not mean it’s necessarily better. But most of all, being preppy means embodying charity, compassion, and the desire to help others without wanting something in return.
However, this leads me to what we see online: Tumblr, Instagram, Pinterest. What do we see when we type up “preppy”? We see guys with monogrammed polo shirts posing in front of “their” sport cars that their parents paid for, girls lying on beaches sipping on some tropical drink. In short, we see people with backgrounds of privilege, affluence, and the attitude of getting more than what your neighbor has.
How about all the other things that are behind these pictures? Is being preppy having a closet stuffed with clothes and accessories? Or having money/property passed down from generation to generation instead of having a work-hard ethic to get where you are? Is that what preppy means?
There may be an endless number of attributes to what being preppy means, but at the end of the day, what does it all mean?
Am I guilty of playing into this trope of wanting to be preppy? Of course — but who isn’t? In the past 20 years or so (or should I say in the last 2-3 years), I’ve definitely tried to fit in, materialistically at least. In the attempt to find my own style, I had lost myself in a cycle of consumerism.
In short, it seems as if being preppy is not what it used to be. The word has been photoshopped, filtered, and edited to the point where the word has more extrinsic meaning than it does intrinsic. However, this doesn’t mean that I don’t respect the term –I did at one point in time, but it’s been changed to the point where it’s hard for me to find any part of the word that still relates to who I am today.
And what does this mean for me? I can’t give you a clear answer. Based on how the term “preppy” is defined by pop culture, I definitely do not fit this definition, and I don’t want to. I don’t go on vacation in Southampton. I don’t come from a rich background, nor do I have a plush bank account. My parents were foreigners from China. And my style of dress? It’s a mix of everything.
So if there’s one thing that you take away from this post, it’s this: large brand names, big houses, and fast cars doesn’t make a person better than the next. The best style is being true to who you are. At the end of the day, each one of us will be remembered for the kind of people we were, not what possessions we had.
Looking at a blank screen with a flashing line, it seems like I don’t know the best way to start writing.
The last time I wrote in a meaningful way was back in high school, which seems like an eternity ago. Back then, I was a different person living in a different world.
Now that I’m a few months away from graduating college, I’d like to say that I’m a better person, that I’m a completely new person than I was before I started college. It certainly feels that way: I’m now much more comfortable with who I am as a person. Even though I’m not entirely sure of what I want, I’m fairly certain that given time, life will give me what I need. The hard part is getting there.
Although I can’t predict what my future holds, what I can do is to try and enjoy the ride. This blog is to help you, the reader, come along with me, and see where life leads me.
Care to hop in?