Back in the day, I wrote for myself. I like to tell myself that I still do, but that’s not true — now, there are readers. And more than that, there are lurkers; people who know I’m blogging here, but would never have the balls to comment (and further still, would silently judge me from afar). It’s a bit of a different beast when you know you’re blogging and getting read versus blogging and not giving a shit.

I gotta get that old blogging mojo back. I used to be boss at this shit, yo. Ultimate Blogger, Backwash, 9rules, Atlanta Metroblogging…I used to write words that would inspire you, make you laugh, and make you cry. Now I’m just writing and the emotion ain’t there like it once was.

For those of you who have been in the game for as long as I have, what motivates you? What has you continually putting out great content? Because lately, I feel like I’ve been…well…you know the drill.

My SXSW experience has been less than stellar. To be honest, it kinda sucks. My usually debilitating pine allergies doubled up on my ass the minute I stepped outside the Austin airport. Cedar fever’s what they call it. And it’s been such a huge drag. It’s one thing to not even be at SXSW and hearing all the chatter on Twitter. That’s easy to avoid — you can filter out the talk or just not visit Twitter at all. But when you’re here and right across the street from all the action and can’t make it because your allergies have you by the balls (and by the throat and lungs), it sucks even worse. Right now, I’m typing up this post while sitting in a panel, and it’s taking everything in me to not pack up, go back to the hotel, and just pass out.

Actually, passing out would be a plus — I also haven’t gotten much sleep since I touched down on Thursday because the deep, painful coughing doesn’t let me get more than ten minutes in at a time. Popping all these pills in different quantities is playing havoc with my body now, and I’m feeling like an antisocial bump on a log. I’ll spare you the rest of the woe is me speech, but needless to say, I’m ready to get the hell back to Atlanta and my bed.

Sorry SXSW. Don’t know if I’ll be coming back for a second year. It’s not your fault though, I swear!

Specifically, my back.

Last week, I was downtown to pick up a check from a client. I was coming out of the MARTA station headed towards my client’s business when my back suddenly seized up like a rusty gear. My right thigh got really tight, and I seriously had to stop a few times before I could complete the three block walk to get the check. It took the power of Jesus, Buddha, and Greyskull for me to make it back on the train and to Casa de Karsh.

I mean, this shit came out of the blue, folks. I’m always walking long distances. Hell, I was in marching band in high school and college. Ambling about on two legs is no problem, and I’ve never had any sort of back problems whatsoever. My father Sperm Donor does have a really bad back, but he was a Navy man for 17 years, worked as a welder…I mean, he wrecked his back. Is this what’s happening to me?

A few Excedrin Back and Body Pain pills later, I decided I should be more proactive about seeing what in the hell is going on with my back. Heaven forbid I end up like my father, doubled over in pain with a bottle of Jack and cursing at his wife, who’s nagging him for not having a better back. (Scratch the wife. And maybe add some ginger ale to the Jack.) And with this being about a week away from me headed to SXSW, the last fucking thing I need is a debilitating injury. Not at this stage in the game.

After talking with Brandon, I realized that there were a few factors which could have contributed to my recent sudden injury. For starters, I have been in the house for the past few weeks banging out client work. We’re talking several hours on end of sitting down crouched over a computer. Also, my desk chair has a broken back (insert rimshot here). The locking mechanism has stopped locking, so when I lean back, this thing goes nearly horizontal. On top of that, there’s my heavy ass winter coat that I’ve worn day in and day out, as well as my heavy ass laptop bag. So it just seems like I had on too much weight after being sedentary for such a long period.

I got a Chinese acupressure massage on Sunday which felt like exactly what I needed. I was in pain immediately after (and the next day), but it quickly went away. On Monday, I saw a chiropractor who had me in their office for two fucking hours twisting me in all sorts of positions and laying on top of my body. I have to admit though — the next day (i.e., today), I felt great. It was also 70+ degrees outside and I was in shorts, so maybe that was part of it as well.

Whatever the case, the back pain (for the time being) is gone. I’ve got another chiropractor appointment later today.

I don’t think I’m going.

Yeah, I know that’s terribly vague, but when have you known me to give all the answers? I’m not even using my real name here.

Let’s not call these goals resolutions. They’re just a list of things I’d like to achieve in 2010 (since 2009 threw all these areas off-track). (Lord knows I already tried the laundry list of things and it didn’t work out so hot — 101 in 1001, anyone?)

PROFESSIONAL

Truth be told, my professional life has grown by leaps and bounds since last year. I quit Big Company, Inc., started my own design studio so I could freelance full-time, got into business with two individuals for a while, did a little new media business with some local politicians, and now here I am. One year later and back in the fray of searching for work.

Now when I say work, I don’t mean a job per se. I really have no desire to go back into the corporate world, and after the year I had and the shit I learned, I’d only be up for a corporate gig if they came looking for me (and not the other way around). Luckily, that has been happening, including a recent interview in NYC and a few interviews with agencies here in Atlanta. It’s good to see that two degrees plus ten years of experience means I actually start getting callbacks. *eye roll*

But aside from that, my design biz needs a serious B₁₂ shot. I’ve gotta build up my client base, and communicate with them more often post-project. I want to put out a monthly newsletter. I want to start a professional blog about design and technology (if only to whittle through all these press releases I’ve been getting lately). I want to get involved in more conferences and workshops and stuff locally to get my business’ name out there. And of course, I want to get some very dormant side projects off the ground (like the comic book), and I need to get a bunch of things in order for SXSW 2010 this year (like funds to make it there, for example).

Speaking of which, I’M SPEAKING AT SXSW 2010!

Ironically enough, it looks like I’ll actually make it there because I don’t have a punk ass boss to shoot down the idea. Hooray entrepreneurship!

FINANCIAL

So I started off this year in a pretty decent spot. I had a nice amount saved up from Big Company, Inc., and with regular clients, everything was being taken care of well. Then I got into business with some other folks and shit just started going south. Money started getting split three ways, I’m nickeling and diming to get bills paid, selling my stuff so I can make ends meet, and now I’m down two bank accounts and all my savings.

Lesson learned? Be very, very, VERY careful about who you get into business with, especially if you’re the smartest one in the group, doing the lion’s share of the tasks, and have the strongest work ethic.

Luckily, my hard work has been starting to pay off. I’m picking up work here and there, and I’m ready to turn this financial setback around. Recession be damned! Although I have to admit, paying for things in cash has been surprisingly hassle-free and easy. I can see now how easy it is to not know where your money goes using plastic, especially with how debit and credit transactions are held. When you pay in cash, your money is gone immediately, so you don’t end up spending cash you don’t have.

That Teresa from Real Housewives of New Jersey might’ve had something there.

PERSONAL

Real talk: the highest personal point for me this year was becoming friends with Gaara again. It’s one of those things I didn’t really think would happen given the things I’ve said about him on this blog (as well as the things that happened that I didn’t talk about on this blog). But you know, I find having him around to talk to has been extremely gratifying, not to mention a lot of fun. I didn’t really think becoming friends with an ex was a viable option after The Ex, The Why, and Opportunity. Lord knows what those Negroes are doing right now — probably off terrorizing some else’s emotions for all I know.

But even with all the good things with Gaara, it would still be nice to find a boyfriend. Despite what might come forth on this blog (and from my ex’s testimonials), I’m a catch. Highly educated, cute in the face, full of ambition and creativity, and you can take me home to the parents (if they’re accepting, that is). But I sat on the sideline for most of 2009 for professional reasons. I’m ready to get out there and find The Future Mr. Karsh, but I know I have to get my finances back to a stable position and get a good stable of work before I feel comfortable with the whole relationship thing. I know that’s weird, but that’s how I am.

Also, next year I’ll be turning 29. One step closer to 30, but I’m not scurred. (You know why.) I would love to have a big birthday bash celebrating my 30th, so I’m going to start planning it next year, and I’d love for as many of my friends to be there as possible. I don’t know if it will be in Atlanta or not, but right now, I’m leaning towards having it out West somewhere (like San Fran or Vegas). Time will tell.

What’s on your agenda for 2010?

Gaara and I have been in various states of acquaintance since we’ve known each other. We’ve went from casual friends to a hot and heavy relationship to an abrupt breakup to a few periods of silence and now we’re back as friends. And I guess with all that back and forth we’ve had, our friendship is stronger than ever. We even talk about the relationship, what went wrong, and give each other advice on whomever we’re courting at the moment. By all accounts, everything is absolutely great.

Except that I have never been in this position with an ex-boyfriend before.

Usually when we and a mister break up, that’s that. There’s no after-breakup talks or analysis between us; you break up with me and you’re banished to The Island of Lost Boyfriends. Granted, a few have had some post-relationship visits to Casa de Karsh, but a boy has needs. And I’m not talking emotional ones.

Gaara is different. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but even after the breakup, he’s still been amicable and easy-going — the same way he was when we were in a relationship. And since we’re closer than ever in terms of friendship (and location — he actually lives in Atlanta now), this is a good thing. He’s one of my favorite people to hang out with. He makes me laugh. We can vibe well in nearly any scenario. He’s met my friends. I’ve met his friends. His family likes me (I think). And wouldn’t you know it — right now, we’re both single. And even more, we both don’t want to be in relationships right now.

This is either going to be a recipe for harmony or disaster. Stay tuned.

I did tell myself that I should at least drop in here once a month and leave an update, but my recent malaise has hastened that. If you’ve been keeping up with my Twitter, then you know I’m really only able to get on once a week or so, and that’s for any Real Housewives of Atlanta snark. I’ve been keeping my Tumblr active as well. Hopefully, once this gig I’m currently working wraps up and my life can go back to some semblance of normalcy and you’ll start seeing more regular updates. Until then though, catch me on either Twitter or Tumblr.

Now to find some meds and food. *cough**hack**spit*

I sure can pick ‘em.

I’ve been remaining pretty cool about it. It seems all those years of corporate America taught me how to subdue my feelings in the face of adversity (or awkwardness, in this case). I figured I’d be a little old for this kind of thing, but I’ve been single for about a year and a half now and have had a string of shitty dates. And the dudes I meet in between those dates are shallow, pretentious, one-note losers with no personality or drive. They’re not interesting; they’re just some boring fags looking for the next thing to keekee about or dude to lie on their backs with. (Hey, a guy has needs!)

Talking and hanging out with the crush is…refreshing. It’s refreshing because he’s carefree, smart, creative, sarcastic, and is intelligent. He’s everything I’d want in a guy…if he were gay. But he’s not. And I’m too old to pull the “let’s test if he’s gay” game. Besides, I’m convinced the only place that game really works is at Morehouse.

So until I find The Future Mr. Karsh, I’ll just sit and daydream openly about the crush, hearing his voice, laughing at his jokes, and dying a little bit inside when he starts talking about the kind of girl he wants.

*sigh*

Don’t date and blog? Hell, that’s where I get my best material! However, there was one line in the article — a mundane line, really — that gave me cause to pause.

Guys can be scared away by the simplest of things.

Which reminds me of my “date” with Housecat from Saturday! (See what I mean about getting material?)

Before I go into it, I should give a little bit of backstory.

About a month or so ago, I got a reply from an ad from a guy that looked pretty good on paper. Doctoral candidate, around my age, fairly attractive…but he looked familiar. Turned out he went to my alma mater and graduated in the class after me. I actually replied to an ad of his maybe a year or two prior, but never heard back from him so I figured it wasn’t a match. So my reply to him was brief, stating that we had a mutual friend (planetCH) and that we went to the same college.

And that was the simple thing that scared him. He completely shut off communication with me, but guess what had two thumbs and couldn’t leave well enough alone? You know it.

I decided to ask planetCH what the deal was. Now he and I have been friends for a while (he and Apollo were college roommates) and have kept in touch ever since. And since I knew we both knew Housecat, I figured he could give me the skinny on what’s going on with him so I could have a little insight into the situation. planetCH suggested that when he came into town (he’s currently in New England), the three of us could go out for dinner or drinks or something and I could get to know him.

Fast-forward to Saturday.

I just finished up some client work, and planetCH and I were out having sangria and cervezas and shooting the shit. You know…catching up on old times. I was somewhere between Negra Modelo #3 and #4 when I suggested that planetCH call him up so we could go hang out. That’s right — going out on a group date when I’ve already got my buzz on. Now that’s a class act, ladies and gentlemen.

Meeting Housecat was…well, it was kinda tame, to be honest. Given the quick brush-off I got from him a month or so ago, I expected things to be a little spicier. (I mean, I did just go through a similar situation last week, remember?) We started to talk a little bit about Morehouse and he asked me where I stayed freshman year.

“Well, I started out in Graves, but I ended up moving to a few other dorms that year.”

“Oh really?” he asked. “What happened?”

“I…really don’t want to tell that story. Maybe I’ll tell you after we know each other a little better.” Then I changed the subject. After we all got to the restaurant, he brought it up again.

“So tell me the story of how you stayed in so many different dorms freshman year.”

“I don’t want to tell that story…I mean, that’s not really a good first impression story.”

“Oh go ahead, I want to hear it!” I turn to planetCH, who is nodding in agreement. Turns out he hadn’t heard the story either. Housecat was pretty insistent on hearing this from me. After mulling it over for a bit, I decided to oblige him.

“Now like I said…this is not a good first impression story. But you asked for it.”

And so I told him the story of my freshman year at Morehouse. And his non-verbal reactions were a little something like this (check the 0:58 and 2:02 mark):

Needless to say, at the end of the night, there were no numbers exchanged between Housecat and I. And I’m OK with that. The saga continues.

Well, maybe my true self in 2031. Fingers crossed.

Let me explain. My current client has a staff of energetic, loud-talking twentysomethings that love to go out every night and have a blast. I don’t. After a long day, I just want go home, throw on some jazz, brew some tea, kick my feet up, and just chill. But lately, I haven’t even been doing that. I’ve been coming home and going right to sleep within an hour or less, then waking up and not being able to go back to sleep until sunrise. So I end up schlepping into the office a few hours later looking like death with a hangover, and the aforementioned twentysomethings are chirpily recanting their night out while I wonder when in the hell I turned into such an old fart.

In a way, it’s similar to what used to happen when I worked at Big Company, Inc. I’d work twelve hours, come home, eat, then go to bed. But the thing is, everyone else that worked there ended up doing the same thing. The separation of work life and personal life was clear. But when you work for yourself and end up in a non-corporate work structure, things are different. The two lives start to mesh. I mean, I’m working long hours here too, but I have less and less free time these days so I have less and less of a personal life. And when I do have it, I usually spend it sleeping. I’ve been working like a crazy person non-stop since March and I think it’s starting to catch up to me.

Don’t get me wrong though — I have a had a few nights out these past few months that were just great. I pretty much have a standard brunch and hang out session every Sunday. More than likely, I’m probably making a bigger deal out of this shit than I should be. But there’s still a little part of me that feels like I should be out there doing more stuff. Living it up. Enjoying my youth. Not sleeping my twenties away.

Damn this quarterlife angst!

So why do I find the process so boring? Seriously, the whole time there all I could think about was when I could get paid and buy some new shoes.

I should be grateful, I know. In this country, AIDS seems to get less media attention and public outrage than other diseases. Hell, swine flu pops in for a few weeks and the news networks are all in a kerfuffle. So I can go and get an HIV test, wait for the results, and then be about my merry way. No muss, no fuss.

Given the mundane nature of it all, you’d think more people would do it.