Tuesday, March 22, 2011

I'm a Fucking Masochist

Yesterday, while we were driving to dinner, Krista asked me to be a part of Gone Gonzo News. This is how our conversation went:

"What's Gone Gonzo News," I asked, "and why do you want me to help you with it?"

"We're writing about things we're interested in in the most descriptive and honest way possible. You know, like the godfather of gonzo journalism, Hunter S. Thompson."


"You should write something as soon as possible so we can have something from all of us by the end of the week!"


Krista was sitting in the backseat so she didn't notice the "WHAT THE FUCK?" look on my pained face. I started sweating so I awkwardly and frantically turned on the air conditioning.

"Squirrel! It's going to be so much fun!" she yelled as she looked out the window and imagined her world takeover.

"Ya, totally...I'm so excited."


Don't get me wrong, guys. I love Thompson and gonzo journalism. Also, I think that Krista's brainchild is brilliant. For a second, I was even like damn, why didn't I think of that? It wasn't Thompson or Krista's idea that made me cringe with anxiety...it was the idea of actually writing something.

You're probably wondering, what the fuck? This bitch is a Comparative Literature major, which means she plans on writing as a career, so why is she freaking out about writing about stuff she likes for a cause that she supports? I love writing, and it's a crucial component of my major. At the same time, however, I hate writing, and it literally is the bane of my existence. As my friends know, every time I write, I torture myself by sitting in front of the computer until I can't see the screen anymore. I cry, I whine, and I even threaten to kill myself.

"Squirrel! Don't kill yourself! Who will cook me dinner?" Krista would say.

Pft. Idiot. I would never kill myself, but the fact that I would rather hypothetically kill myself than write about Upton Sinclair's the Jungle and 20th century labor movements is something amazing and ridiculous in itself.

Then why, you might ask, do I continue to write? It's because at the end of the day, I don't want to have children so I use writing as an outlet to figuratively give birth. My work is so important to me that every word is truly a labor of love.

...Just kidding. LOL. It's because my name is Chloe, and I'm a fucking masochist. Duh.

No comments:

Post a Comment