I’m a writer, not a blogger

Gone are the days when I would bring forth stupid amounts of recipes I would concoct out of pure boredom. The days where I would be tempted to detail on every nook and cranny of one of my travel trails. The days where I would tweet and hashtag the hell out of my Instagram pictures in order to get more views on my website. It’s not that I don’t care what others think of my musings; I just want it to be simplistic brilliance that I don’t need to shove down others throats. While a degree of hypocrisy is present due to my nature of typing on a ‘www.’ and that I’ll probably post this to my Facebook page – I just cant find it in me to further conform and cutesy-up my demeanor by creating SEO friendly headlines or sticking to one theme of what I write about.

I’m just not cookie cutter material, you see.

While this is no way a dig at those who do so, I just don’t have it in me to go forth and write about food & travel non-stop to an audience. I have dedicated my life to undying adventure and keeping life as organically weird as I possibly can. In the words of the beloved Patti Smith, I am, ‘of the Peter Pan clan.’

With that being said, I personally have no desire to expose hidden treasures I’ve come across in my travels or divulge all of the crap I make in the kitchen. It seems my Public Relations degree got the best of me and my struggle to try and find a way to make money outside of an office hit the ceiling of desperation.

I also decided I couldn’t find the willingness to contribute to the mass pile of information on all of the secrets of the world that is out there on the internet. It’s just not my thang.

It takes the mystery out of it; the edgy feeling you get when you discover something unknown and tantalizing.

Mystery is what keeps you on your path of turning over every rock and looking underneath. It’s what gets you to be more than alright with making a wrong turn; with not yelping every restaurant you want to go to; with deciding to ditch your iPhone safety blanket [and in my case, without choice because my phone completely shattered and died as of last night – Asia is going to be a part of my Wild & Wonderful sagas].

I fear that we’ve started to forget that bad experiences are NEEDED. You learn from your failures and they help you get to the point where you can truly laugh at yourself. I laugh all day errrday. Mainly because my screw ups are ridiculous, usually preventable, idiotic and often. But, welcomed.

It’s also that taking the chance of trying out the unexpected brings forth a gnarly amount of blissful adventure.

Going to a city that is not in your Lonely Planet book – is adventure. Trying to remake something you ate in a restaurant, and not searching a food blog for the recipe – is adventure. It will probably taste like hell, but hey it’s a lesson learned. Prancing around in your apartment butt-ass naked while blasting Celine Dion and forgetting to shut all of your blinds – is adventure… and maybe a form of contributing to voyeurism. But, that’s usually the point where you need to play it cool, avoid eye contact with your neighbors and learn that next time you’ll definitely remember to close up shop. Ahem, I’m still talking about the blinds.

All of that information compiled made me realize that while I use blogs for good travel information, DIY-ing and for the occasional random pancake recipe I’m double-guessing myself on – I just don’t cut it to being apart of the niche blogging realm.

I’m a writer. Exploring is my passion. I can’t make either seem like a job I’m enslaved to. There’s nothing I dislike more than something that hinders my freedom. And freedom is what it’s all about, baby. I don’t like touristy things as it is, and I definitely don’t want to be responsible for someone going missing because they decided to follow suit and ride in the terrarium of an RV in a casino parking lot in Reno. Wait, what?

My point is – while I commend and am grateful for the crew of bloggers in the world that divulge great information when it comes to travel/food/health, I’m just not the girl for the job. I don’t follow any sort of itinerary, and I don’t plan on heaping out the plethora of whacky stories I have accumulated.

Just yet.

That’s not to say I won’t give advice when it comes to an area I have traveled or any great foods I’ve discovered in the world/to make. I love dishing out the deets. I just prefer to do it man to man. Ya know? E-mail style. I’m more than happy to help a friend, or a friend of a friend, or a friend of your grandma’s cousins ex-wife’s dogs friend. It’s just that I would rather make the words I choose to stick out on this here website spin ‘round in a different way.

In a saucy way.

In a different way than you’re used to. Maybe.

Badda-boom-badda-bing…. I think this officially commemorates my graduation from Anhelica to Asiangelica. I’m also very aware that I use third-person too much, but eh, life.


One thought on “I’m a writer, not a blogger

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