Hey, me again… Story time! Back at the end of June I signed up to donate blood. As a first timer I was pretty excited… well as excited as a person can be about the concept of letting a human, for 30 minutes, do what we slap mosquitoes away for after .03 seconds. I digress. Anyway as I was on the way out the door (15 minutes late) my mom reminded me I’d recently been to Colombia, thus possibly ineligible to donate. As it turns out, I had been to Colombia 26 days prior. Had I tried to donate blood two days later this story would have ended with me eating cookies, sippin’ on juice, laid back… Well it is me so this story probably would have actually ended with a bang aka me passing out or some other sort of nonsense.
As sad as I was that I wasn’t able to donate, I was struck with the fact that it had been nearly a month since I had traveled to Colombia and aside from my last post, the epic tale of how Alex and I ~barely~ survived a hike in the Andean Mountains, I still had not written about the country, its people, or our experience. Man, talk about a cliff hanger. Well it’s been at least 26 more days and I still haven’t posted. The reason is twofold.
First, I admit I have spent a better portion of the summer gallivanting around my hometown of Oak Island with a cohort of the friendliest heathens disguised as young
adults you’ll ever meet. We’ve been tirelessly staying up until sunrise, really putting in the man hours creating memories that will one day become chapters in a “fictional” novel about a group of lifelong friends that live life like it will end tomorrow. It will invite you on gut-wrenching, 100mph joyride that will keep you rolling (and raging) even after it hits you in the fomo. To my partners in crime, (misdemeanors I swear) only the names will change… but y’all will see right through the pseudonyms.
Second, despite the fact that the only feedback I have gotten about my blog has been overwhelmingly positive, I still have trouble believing in myself as a writer or that people actually care about what I have to say. To
anyone who knows me, you know that honestly, you never know. Much to my friend’s dismay, I’ll dance to the beat of my own drum in parking lots, grocery stores, banks, around fires, on fridges, etc. I’ve entered my senile old lady days 70 years premature because I will knowingly wear clothes inside out in public. Just call tee-shirt tags my freak flag, because I let them wave on, wave on. To top it off, my speaking voice naturally lies in the same decibel range of a plane taking off, yet I’ll say whatever pop’s into my mind without a second thought. (I once referred to myself as a savory truffle?) Basically I live in a way that proves my understanding of public embarrassment is equal to my understanding of quantum physics (to reiterate I am a US history major.) However, when it comes to actually writing down words and exposing them to the world to read I am a giant ball of nerves. To me, the idea of running around naked in public seems a hellava lot less personal than letting people read my writing, yet I cannot envision myself as anything but a writer, so I guess it’s time to give a voice to the voices in my head… cabin fever’s making them crazy.
The other night a wise ole Oak Island resident told me something that I really took to heart. “When someone compliments you, you say thank you and that’s it.” So to anyone and everyone who has encouraged me about my writing, thank you!
It is time to get serious about this blog, (with a few jokes on the side) so allow me to reintroduce myself: My name is Rita. I plan to be a professional writer, traveler, flower child, and all around life-liver which brings me to a bit of exciting news. I have OFFICIALLY bought a one-way ticket out of the US of A!! On October 10th at exactly 10:00pm (10, 10, 10) I will be jetting out of JFK and headed straight to England. Aka I’m flying back to the motherland on Columbus Day, gotta love the irony!