So I know I promised you all stories about my trip to New York, but I have to admit that for the past week and a half, I have been experiencing a moderate to severe case of writer’s block.
My writing teacher used to say that writer’s block isn’t a real thing; it’s just a manifestation of one’s fear and anxiety. Well, I kind of wanted to punch him in the face every time he said that, because sometimes it is a real thing. Sometimes you really just can’t think of anything to say. And other times, you’d just rather lay on your couch watching Home Alone 2: Lost in New York and identifying all the places you’ve been while eating questionably old Kernels Popcorn.. and that’s ok.
So although I haven’t been blogging, I have been channeling my creative energy in other ways. Like obsessively planning all of my Holiday outfits. And working on my inaugural “BreezyK Year in Review” Mixtape.
What’s that? You want to hear the first track? K:
Now, don’t go getting any ideas about how cool I am, because the other 16 tracks are probably all going to be Nicki Minaj and One Direction.
I’m not kidding.
Speaking of One Direction, can we talk about T-Swift and Harry Styles for a minute?
I have to admit, that for a 27-year-old woman, I am unreasonably jealous about this. I mean, just look at how skinny these jeans are:
He obviously belongs with me. Harry, don’t you know that Taylor’s skinny ass is just going to dump you in 4-6 weeks and then write another drony album about it? I would never, ever, do you like that.
In other news, I’m also in a funk because I haven’t been running lately. I developed a bad case of plantar fasciitis or some sh*t (or at least that’s what my Doctor,WebMD, tells me) from walking
catwalks around New York last week in inappropriate footwear.
So in order to maintain my perfect physique, I’ve been forced to use the elliptical. Guys, let me tell you. I thought there was nothing worse than the treadmill, but THERE IS. Sh*t is SO. BORING! Plus, it makes me feel like the female incarnation of Tony Little whenever I am on it… minus the glorious hair.
It basically makes me want to strangle myself with my iPod headphones. But instead, I just focus on Rachel Ray cooking things that would obviously take way longer than 30 minutes in real life. Why do they play cooking shows at the gym by the way? It seems a bit of a perverse incentive, no?
And I guess I shouldn’t say I haven’t been writing at all. I have been working on a children’s story about a clumsy Zebra named Patrick. It isn’t very good.
Anyway, that’s all I got for ya. I swear I’m brewing something good soon. Keep the faith guys. I’m going to stop talking now.