#brittainy

Confessions of a 35-year old party animal: 

So I went out for the fourth time this week, this time at the request of some new friends I’ve met through playing bar trivia. It’s kind of a big deal for someone like me, who never makes new friends without having some kind of outside force working on him. It’s really nice, actually, and I’m all the more pleased by just how much I like them. Getting the text earlier this evening asking me if I wanted to come out really touched me more than it probably should have. 

So I went, and it was cheap drink night, which is good, because I’ve been going out way too much, and I don’t really make the kind of money that allows for drinking every night. But I had three or four, and had some good times, and it was suddenly about ten minutes til closing. There were only a handful of people left in the bar, and this woman suddenly came up to me. 

“I know this is going to sound weird,” she began, and I instantly started wondering where the hell this was going, “but that girl over there”--here she pointed to a woman near the other end of the bar who was a long way from being a girl--”she really needs a hug. She’s gay so it’s not like that. She says you look just like her brother, and she hasn’t seen him in years, and she’s having a bad night. Do you mind?”

When I was more frequent on Facebook, I used to write statuses and picture captions that came from my head; no quotes, no witty summary of a friend's status I just read, no pictorial comment from a Disney movie relating to a damsel in distress having a horrific day from the big bad 21st century and needing a knight to come save her from student loans and boredom. Just me, and my positive outlook for the day.

Then Twitter came along, and that stupid blue bird dwindled my thoughts down to 140 characters. Being an Aquarius, Italian, and a girl - we all know that's impossible to clarify a full thought. So I started the inevitable browsing, searching for inspirational retweets. However, it's like the difference between tailored-made and department shopping. Sure, a small fits the needs of an everyday tshirt, but a size 2 with a .5 inch inseam cut gives a much more aesthetically pleasing person, and that dress definitely deserved the extra touch (pictures soon!). 

Thankfully, Tumblr has entered at a very special time in my life - where reflectiveness is at its peak and decision-making is on overload. I guess if enough people start reading this, I'd ought to make a book or something. I've been told I have some pretty relatable subjects, and a curious way with words. Some say it's "mature swag" - a nice way to say I have a cougar spirit stuffed inside a 23-year-old body. I am young, but old-spirited; youthful yet wise.

And I'm about to become an open book on the worldwide web. Look out, it's the yet another blog about the life of a quasi-notable person. Should you care to listen, however, you'll find through my ranting and storytelling that I'm much more interested... in you.

I used to write a lot actually, in notebooks, on the computer (anyone remember LiveJournal?!). Poetry, songs, thoughts, and yes even a rap or two (#epicfail, don't crucify me for trying wordplay!)

The truth is, I see the release in writing; I understand the use of the imagination, the art of idea making. It's an incurable ping to attempt to transfer all the great, scary, wonderful, screwed up things into human recognizable form; everyone has it (just look at the whirl of depressing Facebook statuses).

We want people to know how we feel and think; human acceptance is well, what makes the life experience so great - getting to understand someone, learning who they really are by reading between the lines. For example: tell me when reading 50 Shades that you didn't at one point stop and think of the author who threw all the kinky wavelengths together, or saw a music video and tried to analyze why the artist did something in it. Is there meaning, or do we just create it? And on-goes the cycle of imagination and the start of a new experience.

Simply by deciphering communication, words, thoughts, actions - you begin to form a relationship (good or bad) with the person. It's like a virtual meet and greet. In real life, we can describe it as the processed relationship: the "awkward hello" to the scary first text laughed about years later over coffee on holiday together; it's all invigorating.

For some, like me, writing is that "awkward hello", and your response is acceptance into deciphering the messages and forming our thoughts together to years later laughing about the terrible writing over coffee at a local java station if you happen to notice the awkward girl in hippie-chick fashion struggling to order a corporate cup ("tall, no small, skim, um do you have tea?")

What I hope to accomplish here? People "liked" or commented on my pictures in the past mostly (and I'm not saying they weren't par photos!) because they related to quotes; seriously. Many found solace in my everyday thought and by sharing their reply, I found mine. By writing, I was able to reach people, who shared thought, and in turn helped develop mine as well - this always brought me to rediscover who I was: who I am. Well, I'd like to start that again.

Please reply. And let's be friends :)

Now, subject number 1.