Ever since I got out of a five-year relationship a year ago, I have had a fascination/obsession with Sex and the City. Maybe it was the only comfort I found living on my own for the first time, or the comradery in chaos that is depicted on screen. The format feels like a grown-up PBS special, each episode having a larger theme and a lesson you take home with you. 

When I was younger, I thought I’d be a journalist, and as life often does it took a turn, and I never ended up there. I stopped writing, and more importantly I stopped dreaming. 

An introduction

A little about me, I’m a 26-year-old single gal who has lived the past three years in Seattle. I grew up in yeehaw California (Redding). I don’t really have a girl gang here, two good friends and a ton of acquaintances, it seems most of my best friends are long distance. I love thrifting, getting obsessed with new crafts and writing mediocre songs. I tend to watch the same three shows over and over. I’ve been to 48 concerts in the last three years. But perhaps most importantly I found out this week that I’m getting laid off from my job. 

The last four years of my life have been one canon event after another. It seems like when I get my footing in one area of my life, an iceberg knocks me off the ship in another. Unfortunately, I have been coping with 12 hours of screen time and feta stuffed olives that I found in the back of my pantry. 

The how and why

So, because I feel like I’ve reached another dead end, and have cried a lot the last few days, the only thing that makes any sense to me is to turn right. I want to document my life right now, for future Veronica. That way when my life inevitably falls into place and the blue birds start singing again, I can look back at these chaotic years and know it was all leading me somewhere. 

I don’t know what I want this blog to be, when I was marinating in thought over this, I wanted to channel my inner Carrie Bradshaw. As much as I love SATC, it’s not real. My life isn’t Manhattan it’s Seattle, I definitely don’t have a girl gang, and my stories are nowhere near as interesting. I want to give myself the freedom to write about my opinions on TV shows, music, job hunts, life situations etc. Whatever my little voice inside me desires (hence the name). 

It sounds cheesy but I want to feed my soul again. We often try to commodify and optimize every aspect of our lives (Thank you capitalist hellscape). I have lost the plot of doing things only for the sheer purpose of sparking creativity or joy, and I want to make a space for that.