This is my 100th post, internet. Wow. WOW. Post 100. Here it is.
I don’t even know where to start.
I guess, first of all, I never, ever, thought I would make it this far. Heck, I wasn’t betting on making it past two weeks. I actually sent myself two different FutureMails telling myself to resume writing my blog assuming I would have quit by the time I’d received them. Apparently I’m better at committing to things then previously anticipated.
A lot has happened in the past few months. I’ve applied and been rejected to five different grad schools. I’ve gotten three new jobs. I’ve taken a barre training. I did the 40 days program. I’m about to sign the lease on an apartment with Varenka. I started performing music with Captain Apollo. Doctor Who’s back on television. I finally know who the mother is (Just kidding. I still have no idea who the mother is. Come on, Smosby! Tell us!).
My audience here on hnwcassandra has blossomed into something I couldn’t even anticipate. I have a ton of readers, some of which ambush me in person for more details on things I’ve written (still getting slack for my little April Fool’s joke. SORRY GRANNY!!). I got a Beautiful Blogger award from FactoryMaid, which I still can’t believe. I wrote a story that won an award on Legends Undying. I’ve even been quoted and reblogged and liked and posted on enough to have generated a little over 6000 views in 100 days, and I have every person that’s ever been on here, whether I know them or not, to thank for that.
What’s in the future for hnwcassandra? Well, a few things right off the bat, but nothing major. I still plan on trying to write everyday for a year, but after that, I don’t know. I’m planning on doing NaNoWriMo in November (the challenge to complete an entire manuscript in a month!). If I get up the cajones maybe I’ll even post some music eventually. I do have one, big, secret project I’m planning on revealing sometime soon, but until them, my lips are sealed.
Thank you to all my amazing, talented, beautiful, fresh-smelling readers. I couldn’t have done it without you.
Yesterday I received a Beautiful Blogger Award from Factory Maid! I’m frankly touched, since I really haven’t been doing this thing for too terribly long. It’s nice to know that someone out there is reading my humble little blog.
Essentially how this works is that I pick 15 other bloggers to nominate and tell you are 7 things about myself, except that I’m going to bend the rules and pick 3 bloggers instead of 15 because this is my blog and I do what I want. Excepted from the nominations of course is the brilliantly talented Factory Maid herself whom you should really check out (I recommend this post which is tragic and dark and beautiful). I also am going to note that I would have nominated Gus Sanchez of Out Where the Buses Don’t Run, but Factory Maid already did.
1. Jennifer Elise, of Back to the Sutra. She writes passionately and honestly about life, yoga, meditation, and the whole nine yards, and her choice in music is honestly spot on. Read this post about her dislike of One Direction and you’ll be hooked.
2. Nathan Bradley, of The Life and Times of Nathan Bradley. He’s just so funny. I love his unique viewpoint on life. I read a post he wrote about discussing the merits of paper towels this morning and it had me in tears. Read this one about his harrowing trip out on an icy road.
3. Kate, of Healthy Living for the Culinary Impaired. She writes about nutrition and food and all sorts of craziness. Follow her harrowing adventures in the kitchen and her rather unusual take on food here.
Seven Things about Cassandra.
1. I’m a dual citizen- Canada and the US. I was born in Port Colborne, ON and lived in Ridgeway, ON until I was about 5 or 6 and then we got a house in Buffalo and hopped the border for a while and it was all terribly muddled and confusing for a young girl, but I loved it.
2. I once climbed into a hippopotamus enclosure at the zoo to pet the baby hippo. It was slimy and cold and had prickly hair. In hindsight, I was very, very lucky that Mamma Hippo was on the other side of the exhibit. I was also very, very lucky I wasn’t caught snooping around in the trainer’s hut.
3. I have a horrific scar on my right arm from where I was on an amusement park ride in Oregon and I managed to flip my cart over onto myself (it was a very badly maintained alpine slide). I then made it worse by pouring hydrogen peroxide on it to clean it. NEVER AGAIN.
4. I was a ski racer in the NYSSRA for almost eleven years. My best event was Super G, despite the fact that I was about half the size of most of my competition.
5. I was on a crew team for 6 seasons in high school. I rowed every seat in every boat at least once. On my first day out coxing (steering, essentially) my boat (an 8) hit and killed a goose. It was awful.
6. When I was 11, my mom took my best friend and I to Toronto to see J.K. Rowling read from the 3rd Harry Potter book. She was staying in our hotel and she waved to us from her car as she was leaving to get to the event. This is still one of the most exciting things that has ever happened to me.
7. When I was a little girl, my Grandpa told me if I ate asparagus the wrong way it would kill me. To this day I cannot eat it.
Ugh, internet. I had to drag myself to yoga last night. Mom kept coming into the office and pointedly asking me if I was going to get ready to go and Dad threw his yoga clothes on and I was just sitting there on my ass watching Doctor Who (classic, 4th Doctor Tom Baker, season 12, The Androids of Tara) and I so did not want to go. It was a kicking and screaming situation.
You know what I’ve realized about myself during this whole crazy 40 days situation? I’m really lazy about exercise. Not in a I-don’t-exercise-or-do-physical-activities-or-go-out kind of way, but more in a if-it’s-mildly-inconvienent-I’m-not-interested kind of way. If I’m going to be in the studio because I’m teaching a class before or after, I’m in, but if I have to wake up in the morning and get there? Not a fat chance in hell, bucko.
The same principle was starting to drip over into my life pretty badly. In October/ November/ December of last year, I was seriously lacking in motivation to do anything. Go outside? It’s gross out. Work out? I’m single, who cares? Clean my room? Brush my hair? Meh.
Recently, though, I’ve been seeing a major upswing in my life, and I think (no offense to the 40 days program) it’s this blog. Because this is blog post 53, and I haven’t skipped one day yet. I got over making excuses. I finally committed to playing a big show with my friend that’s happening this week. I’ve been chasing job leads (and succeeded in scoring a few!!) and having the blog to point to as proof of both my writing prowess and my commitment to routine has absolutely been helping. I cleaned my room today, properly, with, like, a sponge, in the first time in (this is gross) several months.
However, without the 40 days program, I don’t think I would have realized that any of this was really happening to me. Per as usual, I would have chalked it up to life being random and awesome, without being able to see how these little changes and “lucky” events have been happening with increasing magnitude and regularity, and how they’re adding up, and how they’re a direct result of a concrete change I made in my life.
A 40 day-er commented during a meeting that one of her friends decided to walk to work everyday, and in a conversation, remarked that he’d only made the decision to do it once, and that was that. I think, in a way, this blog has been very much like that. I made the decision to write everyday, and I’ve been doing it. I haven’t done something every day for this many days in a row maybe ever before (with the obvious exceptions of, say, brushing my teeth and eating), and it feels really good. I think the best part is that with a daily commitment I have to schedule around, I’m realizing I have much more time in my day than I think I have, and I’m cutting wayyy back on T.V. and internet time and spending more free time playing music and writing and doing yoga.
I don’t think I’m ready for another big, everyday commitment right now, but I’m glad I figured this out about myself. Maybe I’ll even go to yoga in the morning this week. Baby steps.
Ugh, internet. I feel like death today. I feel like sick on a stick. I feel like someone replaced my innards with a small, moving replica of the Macy’s day parade. There is a tiny mosh pit happening in my head. I have opened and closed my refrigerator at least ten times today without eating anything.
It’s one of those days where the mere thought of being productive in any capacity is making me want to do a literal full blown temper tantrum, complete with screaming and stomping and throwing things, but I am above such things (also that much movement right now might actually kill me). As such, I so did not want to write this blog today, internet. I’m legitimately sitting here writing this and pouting like a petulant child because my life is so hard. However, I shall persevere, because there is a tiny little voice in my head among the angry white noise screaming SUCK IT UP LOSER.
It’s so funny how sometimes I rebel against myself being productive like that, even though I know the pay off will be worth it. Even though I know that whatever I have to do will take less than half an hour and I’m not really doing anything anyways and I’ll feel so much better just getting it over with. I think a lot of people can sympathize with that feeling. That’s why Netflix is still a thing, right? So college kids can watch just one more episode of 30 Rock before they start that paper?
I can absolutely feel the pull of Pinterest at the corner of my mind right now, but dammit, I’m not giving in.
The thing is, I started this blog thinking I would fail. I actually assumed that I wouldn’t make it a full week and I decided not to tell any of my friends and family for a few days in case I didn’t pull through, but here I am, two weeks in, still going strong with a full cache of drafts and scheduled posts. And I feel so much better about myself then when I started this craziness. I feel so much less like a lazy schmuck, living in my parent’s house, working part time jobs, and whats changed? Nothing, apart from the fact that I’m writing everyday and keeping a promise I made to myself two weeks ago.
I guess the moral of the story here is that I knew this day would come – the I-would-rather-gouge-my-eyes-out-then-write-a-post day and I’ve survived it. I wrote despite having a backup post prepared in case of emergency. I wrote despite the fact that I am in bed possibly dying (WebMD says it’s probably brain cancer), and I’ve only checked Facebook once (okay, three times, but I had a notification). And now that I’m nearing the end of this post, I feel pretty damn good, because for the first time in a long time, I’m sticking to a routine, even though I wasn’t feeling it today.
Moral of the story? SUCK IT UP AND GET MOVING, INTERNET.
Right at the end of 2012 I read an article on Cracked.com that I sincerely hope has changed my life. I read it once through and re-read it immediately, bookmarked it, took notes on it, and read it again.
If you haven’t bothered to click the link it’s essentially about a scene in the movie Glengarry Glen Ross in which Alec Balwin’s character is giving a speech to a bunch of employees. It’s a decently long speech, but the summation is this- the world doesn’t care about you if you produce nothing, so if you want to work here, get results. If you want to work here, close.
I am a self confessed non-closer. I’m pretty much as non-committal as they come. I think what’s worse is that I’m very good at lying to myself and others about how good I am at things I’m supposed to be good at, at writing, and at the six or seven petty jobs I work to buy myself shit I don’t need.
I am fortunate. I come from a good family who I adore and who adore me and who will support me in even my craziest endeavors. However, I’m beginning to suspect that I’ve been living with the deep-rooted belief that I am guaranteed a good life, and recently It’s been sinking in that if I wallow long enough in my own apathetic unproductiveness, I will one day wake up unable to dig myself out of the hole I am currently creating.
So I suppose, in my own way, this is me publicly shaming myself to do something about it. To produce. To have something to my name when I tell people I’m a writer and they roll their eyes at me. A blog about myself, for myself, in the spirit of creation. A blog I can post something on, no matter how small or stupid, every day, just to defy that little voice in my head screaming at me saying that I will fail.
Let’s roll, bitches.