Journal of a Working Boy

During the summer of 2003, I moved from Cincinnati to San Francisco. You know how it is – junior year ends, you find yourself with no obligations and jump at the first opportunity to do something interesting. The three-month endeavor was largely a success. I worked at a giant downtown record store called The Virgin Megastore, met a number of lovely individuals from all over the world and found myself blogging about my adventures regularly.

But you see, being so far from home had a devastating impact on my social life. The natural progression from “acquaintance” to “friend” was far too slow for me to rely on my new San Franciscan roomates for the attention that I crave on a semi-daily basis. The Internet offered enough of the comforts of home – the sharing of daily reflections and the narratives of juvenile delinquent-ism – to keep me from feeling lonely or isolated.

For myself, blogging allowed me to document the exciting, if somewhat immature, proceedings of that rain-free summer. It also allowed my friends back home to relate to my experiences and whatever feelings I could articulate to them.

Since then, my blogging technique has changed a bit. Serious political discussions have been known to grace what one was a smart-alec documentation of youth. Today, the forum is still used for descriptions of humorous situations and stories of accidental failure (Everyone adores the lovable loser).

If you asked me whether or not I plan to continue blogging, I’d say, “Yea, I’m totally into it.”