I am a mid-20-something, former wannabee PhD without A Plan.  After college I moved to New York City, where I lived the cliched dream of a 20-something single girl. It was awesome. Then I moved to Chicago and got a Masters degree in 9 months. Within the next 9 months, I moved back to NYC, got a job that made me miserable, and got fired. I wound up marooned (temporarily, I hope) in suburbia. I have some ideas about what I might want to do next, but for now, I’m stuck. 

I have been writing my whole life. As a preteen, I produced your typically embarrassingly bad poetry and prose. In high school, I filled almost 40 full notebooks with journaling and wrote a “novel” that in retrospect reads like a really long Dawson’s Creek fan fiction. By college, I had graduated to writing overwrought entries in my livejournal, carefully crafted towards whatever audience I decided to filter them to. 

Luckily, I also discovered the essay, which has finally given me a “real” medium.

My last semester in college I took my only writing class. It focused entirely on personal essay, which I had already been producing the beginnings of in dramatic journaling. My first completed essay was “The View from 95,” a chronicle of why New Jersey is more beautiful than Tuscany. Graduating college and working temp jobs allowed for a long period of creativity when I produced dozens of essays and decent blog entries. 

I have recently started to write again and I am also attempting (yet again) to blog for the world. 

I live in New Jersey where I work a Job-I-Like. I also like politics, history tomes, engaging in epically inane conversations with fellow Libertarians and watching entirely too much Law & Order.