Fat sweet nothings, but moving closer to that dripping, pulsing something

I am sad to see that it's been over a year since I've posted to this blog. The truth is, if I had time I would write pretty great things (sometimes just okay things) on a regular and often-basis, here and elsewhere. Right now I have a bar job and a three year old and a writing class and a boyfriend (fiance, in fact). The writing class is great and is helping me out with a lifetime of writer's block. I also have friends and music and alcohol and books and this time-crushing (beautiful wonderful) internet. I also live in New York City, which is crazy. If you don't do anything in New York City, you can still be tired and overwhelmed. You can still be over-stimulated, bombarded. Or lovingly welcoming of information and human connections, plus bombarded, which equals I'm so fucking exhausted after a couple of hours of my bar shift that I question regularly how I'm making it through. Yeah yeah sob-pity-me confessional bla bla bla. So many people have it worse. So many people are dead, like Eric (who this blog is for). I know it all and I know it almost every other minute, maybe more because my brain is usually multi-tasking. Still, I want to be a great writer. In order to be a great writer one must write, a lot. One must also spend some time alone, regularly, and must read books. So did you get that? Read, write, spend time alone. These things should be happening all the time. The writing must be consistent and regular, not fractured and scattered and occasional. These are some of the most important elements in the equation to becoming a great writer. And, if you want more and I know you do, there's peace. A writer needs some fucking peace. Meaning, the massive amount of stress that comes with being a writer with no or very little money is a detriment beyond some of your wildest imaginations. For some of us. Not all of us are or can be Charles Bukowski or the Harry Potter woman. Um, hardly any of us can. And there's the stress that comes with living passionately, which is a necessary quality for most great writers. Passion. For me it was dysfunctional, fighting, hard relationships. It was moving to Europe, and then back. It was spending all my money. It was staying with a guy because he needed me. It was drinking way too much. It was working too much because I spent all my money. It was having a baby instead of an abortion (and before that, it was having an abortion instead of having a baby). It was more but you probably wouldn't understand, and I need to go and start my new blog. This blog is going to be more concise and, um, professional. We are entering another phase in the world. I am entering another phase in my life. Some of us are dead and some of us are alive and it's time to WAKE UP. I'm going to write great things and I'm not going to stop. www.writermommynyc.blogspot.com