Brooklyn Newsletter: Month Five

Dear Brooklyn,

I'm headed out to Jay's fiancee's bachelorette party in a few minutes. As the tulips appear in spring, so do the wedding invitations and our refrigerator door looks like Kate's Paperie, it's that covered with invites and save-the-dates. BRING ON THE SUMMER WEDDINGS, I say. BRING ON THE FESTIVITIES. And the cake and champagne.

My social life decided to come out of hibernation over the past four weeks. More specifically, it decided to head straight over to alcoholism; working in a company with mostly boys has resulted in more beer and free shots then I've ever encountered in my life. It's as if destiny said "Hey- you there. Didn't you ever want to pledge Sig Ep? Well here's your chance." Luckily, no one has sent me on a mission to buy cheese steaks in Philly, though I've only been working there for three weeks. There's still time.

One of the changes that has resulted from the new job (besides sleeping later and understanding more nerdy jokes) has been a shift in vocabulary. You can't be ladylike when you're hanging around all that testosterone; 'douchebag' is now a staple and I'm swearing like a sailor. All that being said, sometimes these men can surprise me. Last night at a pub near work, one of the guys went from making crude jokes one second to describing his dreams and nightmares the next. "What's been the craziest thing you've ever dreamt?" he asked us, earnestly, and I had to laugh because, for all their technological aptitudes, there are still sweet souls down there.

One of the many subjects of reflexion during the past month has been the nagging question of blogging: why do it? For those of you who follow the dooce.com news, Heather has become media central of late (featured on the Today show among a whole bunch of other news outlets). I've read dooce for a couple of years now and I've always enjoyed her take on things, particularly via her writing, which is witty and engaging. That said, her recent surge into celebrity-ville makes me feel a little bit ooky when I log onto her site; like I'm reading people.com or checking up on Lindsay Lohan's personal blog. I'm not interested in reading about what it's like to be a celebrity (or if I am, it's not via dooce.com that I want to encounter it). In feeling uneasy about Heather's fame, I've thought about my reasons for writing a blog myself. Is it narcissistic? Who exactly am I writing for? And even if I'm not a mommyblogger, aren't there still legitimate reasons to be blogging?

I'm still unsure about the answers to some of these questions, but I may have found one reason to continue. A few months ago I wanted to look up the name of a book I'd read during my trip to Ireland last year and so I dug around in last spring's archives. Re-reading what I'd been thinking a year ago was incredibly enlightening; my words had been since forgotten and it was like re-meeting a younger version of myself, someone who didn't yet know she would be living in Brooklyn a year later.

I don't know who that information is useful for outside of myself, nor do I know if the act of writing on a semi-daily basis is helpful to anyone else either. I guess that, in a small way, I hope that people who read others' thoughts are more understanding of the human race, whether they're sharing a seat in the subway or negotiating peace talks somewhere far away. To know that everyone's coming from a different space and to understand that the way they interact with you is a direct result of such diversity... these are small steps towards a kinder world.

And I do think that's important.



Erica said...

dear jen-in-brooklyn,

your blog makes me feel closer to you, despite the geographical distance between us. It's interesting to know what you're thinking, and you are a very talented writer.

i agree that blogs allow us to understand each other better.

Sometimes i'm jealous of another person because of what i'm aware of - her fancy clothes, his expensive watch, her handsome boyfriend.

But I always remind myself that nothing is perfect, and that even people I idolize as being perfect have problems.

Blogs let us share those insecurities and inner analysis, which then allows others to realize that nobody's life is perfect.

Reading blogs - reading YOUR blog - makes me realize that we're all searching for happiness. But also that the search is a personal one.

I don't know about you, but i'm choosing to be happy where i am, right now, in the present.

Suffragettes said...

Je decouvre ton histoire d'ADN, ca a l'air fascinant.