20somethingmelodrama is starting to die out, dry up and develop into something new. Yes, I know I haven’t written for about a year, again, and maybe it would have been a better idea to call the blog a year in melodrama or something along those lines but now, after a few years and some random postings and rants, 20somethingmelodrama is coming to a close.
There are a number of reasons for this and the main one being that, apart from the fact hardly anyone reads it, I’ve only got eleven months of my twenties left and I think 30somethingmelodrama may sound a little pathetic and immature. Granted there still will be lots of drama in my life; no matter what I do I can’t escape it and when it does seem to dull down, yes, I miss it. A new blog then with a mature rambling, I hear you question? I’m guessing so or maybe I’ll actually get on and write that book. (Which is in the planning stages and probably will end up being a blog rather than a novel)
So as per usual I am going to make promises that will be broken and say I’m going to blog every month until I’m 30. I can at least try. I’m just not too sure what I can write about these days. Affairs with the boss or the happenings of evil and screwed up friends? Dating, twisted plans/ plotting and social climbing? (The latter makes me sound like an episode of Gossip Girl. (WE ALL HAVE OUR GUILTY PLEASURES)) or do I go down the route of stable jobs, happy relationships and all weddings I have to attend? But why not write about any of the aforementioned? To start with my boss is female and I’m not that way inclined, plus I don’t think I’m her type. I’ve ridded my life, aura and brain of all my evil friends and the ones that are screwed up? Well, I don’t have time to write about every single one of them. Dating? I could start dating again (obviously with the boy’s permission). The non-single goes dating around London, breaking hearts and trying different catch phrases and techniques; possibly? Or find one bloke to play with and see if you can drive him into a crazed frenzied bipolar outrage? oh hang on, that’s already sort of been done (“How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days” with my girl crush/ [the future?] Mrs Bellamy (bitch)) but we could do a more realistic sadistic version and possibly get Charlie Brooker to write the script? I think it’s about time he broke into chicklit. I digress. Twisted planning and plotting; so passé/three years ago. As for social climbing, having just moved onto a road where people keep up with Jones’, have play dates and music lessons, I’ve done with any fragment of an idea I might have had about social climbing. I mean, just the idea of being sociable? If I wanted friendly neighbours and a community spirit I’d MOVE BACK UP NORTH. In the space of the first six hours in our new abode, both the boy and I had met 3 out of 4 neighbours (remember this London and we all generally live in each other’s pockets and recycled air –aka – flats/house conversions) been cautiously welcome to the road, a detailed history of the area (we’ve moved around the bloody corner) and the boy got cougared. I’m waiting for the invitations for dinner or special parties where you take your house keys (we don’t do cars in North West London) at least that would be something to write about.
As for the list of more cheerful things; no one wants to read the happy side. The loved up bit. That’s why, from a young age, we’re read/told/watch stories that all end, in some shape or another, “and they all lived happily ever after”. Why are our juvenile brains not prepared for the happy ever after? Because, in entertainment value, it’s boring.
I suppose you’re all wondering why then did you start writing again? Well, fyi, I’m determined (in my best country accent) to get me writing again and hopefully get published in one of the following;
The Times, Guardian, Observer, New Yorker, Time Magazine, The Economist etc no, I’m only kidding, I’m aiming more for the Londonist, Kentishtowner or something a little more me.
Get prepaid for some, more than usual, random rants and findings as I start exploring, researching and trying to geek my way into the Londonist or I might just come to realise, that after all these years of trying, that, in fact, I’m not a very good writer after all.
Until next time.
Love and blessings
Rae x
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