Writing. Who knew!?

I've entered into the realm of 'published Erieites' this past weekend, when I was informed that my article/reflection of my trip to Slovakia was run on Christmas day as kind of a 'family special'. In keeping up with this trend, I was also recently informed that another one of my op-ed pieces will be published on a Friday in January as a 'Friday Forum', which entails a discussion of the topic (on the newspaper's website) once the article has reached the presses. I'm curious as to the reactions that people in Erie will have to my suggestions on demarcating 'bike zones' on all major city streets. To say that I am ambivalent about the honor of getting two articles published in less than a month would be a lie. In fact, to the contrary, it's made me realize the power of words and the ability to evoke emotion just from writing. Now, I'm not even going to remotely say that I am a 'writer' by any means, but I will say that I've been pleasantly shocked as to the reaction I received from the public who read the article. I received emails and had phone calls--even from strangers! They told me tales of tears and unexpected joy at reading my story; they asked me to write more, and were even quite animate about the fact that it is MY calling to write for people to read. Now, of course, I'm sure some of this has to do with initial reactions to the ONE article I actually wrote for the Erie Times, but it made me feel nice.

When I sit down to write, I often go through about a twenty minute 'prep' period where I think about all the other, better things I could do with my time. I mean, I could peruse through pictures of friends on facebook, or in my yearbooks--after all, I am a very nostalgic person. Or, I could drink a beer and read a book. Maybe I could work on my language and read some Czech? (which I have been doing a lot of since my GRE). Or, I could just listen to some music while drinking some tea. And usually, in the end, the urge to write wins out, as I find the habit to be quite relaxing and important. Writing has a way of making me slow down, and really reflect. Even when I write quickly and I feel as if I'm just skimming through the pages and writing the shallow reflections from my conscience, I still acknowledge the worth in putting SOMETHING down on paper to reflect on later. It's personal therapy for me, and I enjoy the creative/artistic side of it. I've never been one to have a knack for all things cerebral and artistic, but I do realize my own natural grown talent to write my ideas--a talent I would like to nurture. It's so much easier for me to describe a scene through words than it would be to paint one on a canvas: I am the man who recently drew a 'Four-leaf clover' so badly that three people around me guffawed with the honest quiff, "Jesus, Jeremy, it looks like a 6-year old drew that."

I don't know what I'm really writing about now, and to tell you the truth, I'm not so sure I even had an intention when I started, which makes me wonder why I even post on a blog anymore. Do I REALLY believe that people want to read my thoughts!? Do I REALLY think my opinions on issues are anymore informed/observant than my neighbors? HA! I know they're not....so...sorry for dragging you through this post. It sucks. I know.

So, as I sit on the brink of ushering another new year, I'm dumbfounded as to what I'm going to do. I'd really love to take a few drinks, get a little buzz and speak at an octave or two higher than normal, but I'm a twenty-five year old in Erie with no real community. I could go to a pub, but I'd prefer to not have my ear drums ring for the forty minutes thereafter, and I'd like to call some of my friends over, but my house is a grimy mess, and I don't feel like sweeping the dust bunnies out from under the table. Ugh, the conundrum of being lazy on a Friday afternoon...

Yet, what will 2011 mean to me? Will it be another year of adventure, where I put my wanderlust before responsibility and jump to somewhere else on the globe? Will it be a year where I find my life's work? Will it be the year where I return back to school a little more experienced and mature than I was four years ago? Will it be a year of uneventful days and nights, where I live with Jamie, eating dinner, watching hockey and riding bikes? Is that such a bad thought? Oh, 2011, where will you take me? Will you bring me money? Will you bring me friendships? Will you bring me pain, sorrow, anger, joy, BOREDOM? Probably all...