I’m ba-ack.

I kind of hate to make this announcement. It’s presumptuous on at least 10 levels and I’m uncomfortable with presumption on at least 20. Yet, here I am. But not because I presume anyone is reading this, or that anyone who is cares (although if there are, they probably do. And, hi! Thanks for sticking around.). Rather because, you know, this blog is for me. It was conceived as a way to keep people in touch with the awesome months of travel I planned (er, “vaguely notioned”)) after graduating from college years ago. But always always it’s been for me. It’s been fun for me. It’s been contemplative and reflective. It’s been an outlet. It’s been my journey.
And on that journey, I wandered into a new place, an unexpected kind of scary place, and stopped writing. It wasn’t a conscious decision. I kind of put everything on pause while I figured myself out again.
Which I haven’t finished, of course, but I made it out of that scary, bewildering place. What a difference two years makes.
Last I wrote, I was headed to New York for my birthday (24 woooo). And then I never wrote again. (You were all like, did she make it? Was BoM as awesome as everyone said it was? Did she at least get some cake?? Yes. Yes. No πŸ™ ) I don’t really know what to say except that it changed me. I came back completely rejuvenated (probably from meeting all the BoM cast members. Boo ya!). The stress I had been carrying over the last two years , that has been weighing me down and filling me with anxiety–I figured out how to deal with, how to overcome it. I realized that the life I had been living was not (at all!) the life I wanted to be living. I headed in a new direction.
And it was kind of tough, as new trails tend to be, and so my thoughts were deeply contemplative and introspective–far too weighty for this ‘blog fodder’. Sure filled up some journals though.
At the end of that year, I moved into a new apartment. I worked less. I traveled a whole lot more (in retrospect, far too much. I am so tired of traveling.), and llved , to the best of my ability, the life I wanted to live. I took more, greater chances. I made my best efforts to give back ( and forward) the love that my friends had shown me. I, finally finally, made plans to leave.
And at the end of it, I left. Me and my several suitcases (talk about bag fees hot damn!) moved to Cairo. For four months I studied Arabic. Finally! And on the side I started writing articles for gooverseas. I met awesome awesome people. I worked to keep up valued relationships across the distance and the despite the crappy Internet connection. I got a new job, this two-month summer gig I am doing this very moment. I moved to Oman. And in just four weeks–four little weeks!–I’ll land in Houston and my 9 years in the Middle East will be done. I’ll start all over again, this time with more vague notions but a much better sense of direction. And, significantly, a partner. A man. I’ll tell you about him sometime. Probably πŸ™‚
I really have no idea what’s in store. I’m just excited to be here writing again. It feels like home.
The other reason I hate announcing I’m back is that it implies I am back, a consistent blogger (um which I never have been), writing here. Truth is, I don’t know if I am. I want to. I intend to. But I have learned that I make a much better blogger when my expectations are low. So, maybe I’ll see you around.
And maybe I won’t.

(But I really hope I do.)

* *i just realized it’s been exactly two years since I stopped blogging. What does that mean? Oh, mysteries of the universe. I do love you.

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