I’ve already determined that a person’s first blog entry is nothing to blog about. It’s going to be mediocre at best and possibly comparable to the first time one loses his or her virginity; a rite of passage that deserves little to no recognition, a letdown, an embarrassment that takes years to recover from.
Here’s to the first time.
I think that what inspired me to start writing again (besides sneaking in the occasional self-compliment to my boyfriend that I “used to write” and was “pretty good at it”, grasping for encouragement, as if bragging alone would seal the deal and validate my skills, ensuring that I didn’t have to actually write anything) was being so seemingly destroyed by another person’s feelings toward me that not enough Eleanor Roosevelt quotes in the world could pull me out of the funk I was in. I tried to get aboard the inspirational quote express with no avail.
I was 30 years old and defriended. Unfriended, not in life but in the social media world, over the internet. It just happened to be someone that I didn’t even like, but was trying to maintain a positive attitude toward because she was closely connected to people I cared about. Without going into great detail, she was the type of person that I never quite hit it off with, but was sure I would be forced to commingle with for the rest of my life because of our mutual friends. I honestly had no real problem with her other than her irritating facebook presence and the fact that she was so close to someone I cared about, I feared she would someday take my place. I truly hated myself for thinking she was a total cunt. The problem with this situation was that I thought I had my distaste for her under control; I wanted to call the shots, if anyone was going to do the defriending it was going to be me.
After a few interrogating messages that started with the eventual goal of winning back this deleting diva and ended with me being completed humiliated, I still hadn’t figured out why she hated me enough to deleted me from her life. Even more puzzling, I still hadn’t figured out why I cared.
If you are lucky, you have had a relatively easy, drama-free life with burned bridges so small they wouldn’t cover a ditch, and blood not bad enough to be considered tainted, but most of us know that’s horseshit. We fumble through life with the collective goal of not pissing people off, but some of us are just far too clumsy to not step on a few toes every now and then.
After some seriously cliched soul searching and motivational speeches from friends who, at some point in my life I tricked into believing in me, I finally decided not to let the way someone I barely know feels about me determine my self worth. It was then that I turned to my inner Seth Rogen for guidance. Seth Rogen was an enigma to me; a chubby, burly, average-looking, accidental movie star with a sanguine disposition and a sense of humor that rivaled even the funniest of my funny friends. I had always had a strange admiration for him and decided to take him on as my unofficial spirit guide, even if he didn’t know it.
I had to finally listen to my own advice that I was rebelling against like a defiant teenager, don’t waste your time on people who don’t matter. Let your inner Seth Rogen guide you to inner peace. I realized that I had to let go of things I couldn’t control, and giving my energy to this person was sucking the life out of me. I felt like E.T. after everyone realized the earth was killing him, and he had to get back to his home plane planet. I was ready to go back to my home planet, and release this lunatic like a Chinese fire lantern into the sky. With the help of my friends, and Seth Rogen, I realized that I could easily get over things if I just let myself, which I did. Eventually, Seth Rogen was no longer needed but it was nice to know that he was on standby, and I can always recommend a great spirit guide if anyone should find themselves unceremoniously unfriended…