Letter to my 16-year-old self

Dear 16-year-old self, You are beautiful as you are, and you will get better with age. As you build muscle and your curves fill out, your weight will redistribute itself. Building a personal style will get easier, so dress to your shape.

Your heart may be broken now, but you are not. Over the next few years, you will love more deeply than you think possible. Friends are going to cycle through your life and some will leave it for good. Though it's a cliche, it's a cliche for a reason.

The work you're doing now is worth it. Right now, you're learning how to write and how to write in very short form on social media. You'll make it out of high school before Facebook gets so creepy you can't start over elsewhere. You'll learn how to start over closer to home, and you'll form a community there.

Best of all, it gets better. People share your sense of humor and taste in music. In a couple years, you'll be interviewing the bands you love now. Don't limit yourself to one career possibility and try everything when you have the chance.

It may be self-serving for me to tell you to live long and well, but I'll do it anyways. Love you.

Clair

Knot a big deal

When we were young, friendship bracelets were a colorful marker that we were loved by our peers. They might have been lumpy, imperfectly patterned or weirdly colored, but they were ours. Now we're older and the bracelets are back in style.

I've always been a perfectionist when it comes to gifts. If I'm making my presents, the pattern will be perfectly executed or tweaked until it is. A couple years ago, I started making friendship bracelets again. Some of the harder patterns didn't come out perfectly on the first try, so I would go back and correct the patterns.

What was interesting, though, was that most patterns were made by knotting string. Physically, knots are tied to combine or hold things. Symbolically, they represent endurance and lasting unions. Therefore, each bracelet is an independent representation of the depth and length of the friendship by its very nature.

It's interesting to me that they would become fashionable and available for purchase. Those seem less symbolic of the bonds of friendship and more of a statement piece. That is not to say that store bought pieces of jewelry cannot be important or treasured, but friendship bracelets are about very personal bonds that are strengthened by circumstances that might break other relationships.

Save one, I have kept every bracelet I've been given in my adulthood. It seems that the bracelets are more meaningful when they're for/from people you choose to be around. They are absolutely unique, just like my friends, and I treasure them accordingly.

Post inspired by an old friend giving me a bracelet she'd made when I saw her for the first time in a coffee shop today.

Where do we come from? What are we? Where are we going?

Yesterday I wrote mainly about what music has inspired me to consider. Today this blog gets the same type of consideration.

Write, Clair. Write! is not just a journal of my personal thoughts and experiences. It is the record of a passionately curious woman exploring social media's connectivity and her city. It is a place where being young, discovering new things and committing to live like a feminist should is accepted.

Write, Clair. Write! is a love note to the diverse and exceptional communities I call home and the men and women who make my life possible. Writing here is an outlet and a meditation on the subjects at hand. Words are the most powerful salves or weapons individuals can use, and I will use mine to do good.

Write, Clair. Write! is a journey of understanding about the world and people who surround me and the things that make them beautiful. We're all flawed, but true beauty is forged and strengthened through situations that build scar tissue. It is about exploring the depths of my beliefs and figuring out where I want to be in a few years. It is part of what I do for fun.

Title blatantly stolen from Gauguin's painting (pictured).

Break the spell of the typical

Yesterday, I got caught up in the bustle of the office, tutoring and cooking and didn't write. Once I realized I wouldn't have time for creative thought, I got angry. I resented the spinach, the missing ginger, the bowl -- the anger wasn't about dinner, but it was hard to wrestle myself away from the train of thought. Falling into a routine is easy for me when it comes to working and eating. Emotions, exercise and writing practices are harder to maintain even though they can overlap.

Last year, I was prepping for my first interview with Darren King from MUTEMATH when I came across the video for "Typical," a single from their first album. Filmed backwards, the energy and passion that came through in the video was electrifying. My roommate walked in. "Why are you watching a MUTEMATH video?" "Oh, you know who they are? I've got an interview with Darryl? Darren? tomorrow." A lot of yelling followed ("You're doing WHAT?! With Darren?! Darren KING?").

Turns out that MUTEMATH is her favorite band. When she asked someone if he had any questions for Darren, his response was "Can you break the spell of the typical?"

As much as we still joke about that question, it's not easily answerable. Letting routines become typical means that process changes from something you do to something you are. That transition makes it more difficult to change your behavior to work past the negative bits because once it becomes typical, you're living it.

Recently, I've had some serious slip ups in mindfulness. Like last night's kitchen freak out, they've been triggered by realizations of the time constraints in my life. With my tutees' finals coming up, I'm going to plan out how to keep my good habits going so I don't start regularly turning into a giant green rage monster.

As the song goes, "Cause I know there's /Got to be another level /Somewhere closer to the other side /And I'm feeling like it's now or never. /Can I break the spell of the typical?" It's possible that, even if you try to change, something that is typical to you leaves an indelible mark on your person. I choose not to believe that, and will instead do something every day to change my routine.

Though I may not rip up keytars or get covered in paint to break up my day like MUTEMATH does in the video, I still have the power to practice happiness and kindness. I choose that.

Title from MUTEMATH's "Typical." There's also a video from Jimmy Kimmel Live of them performing the song backwards. IN ONE TAKE. The sound is pretty crazy because it's backwards, but it's really freakin' cool to watch. 

I dream of brunch time

Sunday brunch is one of my favorite meals of the week. I ate with my parents every week for a long time, but for the last year, it's been the one meal Adam and I share where there is only a cursory time limit. Brunch is a great option for people who work outside of the city because it offers lunchtime prices for some variations on restaurants' signature dishes. It also allows chefs room to play with ingredients they might not use in lunch or dinner courses.

The first place Adam and I had brunch together was Ore. I was lured out by the promise of delicious chicken and waffles and was not disappointed. Since then, the inside of the restaurant has been redecorated with chalk, flags and signs and reopened as Saw's Juke Joint. The space now has a grittier feel to match its cuisine and new music venue status. Opened as the third part of the Saw's brand, the no-frills approach to plating does not detract from the quality of the food. Instead, your focus is shifted to the food.

Almost half of my green eggs and ham was packed away in my stomach before the spice in the jalapeno Hollandaise built up. The yolk of the perfectly cooked egg mixed with the sauce, and the ham and biscuit tempered the peppery heat well. When I handed the rest over to Adam, I wished -- and still do -- that I had taken more time to savor it. His shrimp and grits was covered with rich sausage gravy. The gravy and cheese grits blended into a rich bed for the generous helping of shrimp on the plate. I was full long before the plate was empty, and will be going back soon to try more of the brunch menu.

Lighting a fire

If I had my way, I'd tutor and freelance to make my living. Both are fulfilling and each is a type of non-traditional education. As of now, I usually pitch math and learning to my students during our first session. Usually, the response is silence and nodding, but the kids come back and work. Now, many of them only need support and encouragement to see how to work through problems. Yep, I'm proud.

Have I told you what I think of education? So many teachers present their material as being proprietary knowledge. As a student, that approach can make subject seem like it's completely out of reach. I'm here to tell you that this stuff isn't locked in a box. You can understand it. It is within your reach. I'm going to push you to learn. You can do it. You can. Shall we begin?

Title from a quote: "Education is not the filling of a pail, but the lighting of a fire." It is often misattributed to William Butler Yeats.

Man, I feel like a woman

Last July, one of my friends linked to this article from The Rumpus about the power of female friendship. After reading it, I sent it to those in my circle who might not have seen it otherwise. Then I sat quietly at my desk with a few tears sneaking out while I stared at a point somewhere behind my monitor. My mind kept circling back to Emily Rapp's description of her realization "how much people diminish and poo-poo the real power and strength of female friendship, especially between women, which is either supposed to descend into some kind of male lesbian love scene porn fantasy or be dismissed as meaningless or be re-written as a story of competition. Here’s the truth: friendships between women are often the deepest and most profound love stories, but they are often discussed as if they are ancillary, “bonus” relationships to the truly important ones."

Even now, this excerpt stops me cold. Growing up, my mom's best friend was like a second mother to me. She taught me how to knit when I was four while her sons were watching "Babes In Toyland" (it's creepy). For the first few years after we moved to Alabama, her house still felt more like home than ours. It was only after reading that article that I truly began to appreciate the scope and scale of the love in their relationship and that which was present in my own life.

A few years ago, I sat with a friend and knitted as she stared into the rosemary bushes in front of her porch. We didn't talk because we didn't need to. As another friend says, "That's what friends do. They sit."

They sit through heart breaks, painful anniversaries, new beginnings, medical diagnoses, grief and anger. They have a beer waiting and introduce you to Cake Wrecks and Hyperbole And A Half on weeks when you invite yourself over because you're about to explode. They laugh and cry with you and call you when they need support. They're family.

Being a woman (or a compassionate human being of any gender) in this society is not easy, but it can be beautiful. Today, women take advantage of opportunities their mothers and grandmothers fought for, even though they have to fight to keep the position once they're there.

We still have a long way to go as a culture. I am amazed that reporters will still seriously ask a female politician about her clothing or a mother about her daughter's fashion sensabilities. It frightens me sometimes that men have so much control over the political process -- with the number of issues that specifically affect women, it just doesn't seem right. I can say, though, that I look forward to seeing and contributing to moving the conversation forward.

Love me like a rock

According to Merriam-Webster, the term "nuclear family" was coined first in 1947. Because of its Cold War origins, the phrase has several layers of meaning. In an atom, the nucleus is tightly packed and contains only two types of particles, which might be considered analogous to the expected male and female roles within the family.

In a solid, the atoms are rigidly structured, much like suburbia in the 1940s (and today). However, outside of the nucleus, the electrons are most likely moving in a certain area most of the time. Young, newly formed families were moving far away from their kin, much like the particle movement in an atom.

The other layer is the explosive potential demonstrated by the atomic bomb only two years before the term was coined. Here, energy is generated by a particle hitting the nucleus of an atom, which induces a change in the nucleus. More on that here. During the 1960s and 70s, social movements started challenging this newly minted convention.

Returning Vietnam veterans and war protesters deepened the generational divide, women's rights became a visible issue and the Cold War dragged on. All of these factors were like particles rushing towards a nucleus to bust it open. With all these changes, typical family structures became, well, not so typical. Thus, the post-modern family was born.

Nowadays, some believe that non-nuclear families provide unsuitable environments for childhood development. I find this generalization simplistic. It assumes both that the entire concept of home is rooted in the Rockwellian vision of the nuclear family and that the households that don't fit into this vision do not -- could not -- provide the same things. Granted, there are some parents who cannot, either by choice or circumstance, but many of my beautiful friends grew up in single parent households or are raising children as single parents. They work harder and sleep less than any other group of individuals I know, and they do it all for their kids.

There's also another component to family that hasn't even been mentioned. To quote Eustache Deschamp, "friends are the relatives you make for yourself." Both my blood relatives and friends are beautiful, messy and imperfect and have taught me that love and home come in different shapes and forms. They have supported me while I learned the difference between love that inspires growth and love that burns away the edges of what you love about yourself. They have comforted me and helped me build back the singed parts with a stronger foundation. Love is everything.

Today's title comes from Paul Simon's "Love Me Like A Rock." When my family went on car trips, my dad would spend hours beforehand making mix tapes for different parts of the drive. Because all of us knew all of the lyrics to most of Paul Simon's songs, either a song or an album usually cycled through the mix during the trip.

Full disclosure: the first part of this post was adapted from an essay on the role of "Sesame Street" as a (seriously) post-modern family structure.

Outlining wet sidewalks in halogen

I visited Naked Art's new location for the first time earlier this year on a rainy February night. The gallery was open late for Microlove, their annual pre-Valentines Day show of local artists' smaller works. That night, Adam and I spent more than an hour wandering the brightly colored hallways, sipping sangria, visiting with friends and befriending strangers.

Since that night, I've become a regular at their openings and special events. I've introduced several others to the monthly Third Friday in Forest Park and Avondale since then and taken them to visit this gallery and the beer, produce, wine tasting, boutiques and barbecue in the neighborhood.

With so many local venues participating, the featured sales and specials offer something for almost everyone. If you're new to Birmingham or are a long-time resident, going to Third Friday is a great way to connect with a new and different crowd of people, to discover new parts of your community and support local businesses.

Today's title comes from Passion Pit's "Little Secrets."

All right, meow.

It feels a little silly to condense my current activities into a list while I'm surrounded by other lists that I've made. Somewhere in my red notebook, there's even a list of lists that I need to make or check off. Compulsive list making aside, what follows is a partial list of what I've been up to recently.

Watching: I don't have cable, and up until two months ago, didn't even have rabbit ears for the TV. Most of my television is streamed from Netflix or network websites. Currently, I'm stalled out in the most recent season of "Supernatural" after getting overwhelmed with the volume of commercials on Hulu. Aside from the occasional episode of "No Reservations" or "The Daily Show," I pretty much tune out everything to play on Pinterest.

Listening to: NPR has long dominated my driving time, and still fills most of my commute. Musically, I've been a little stuck on Young The Giant's eponymous album and The Strokes' "Is This It." An odd combo to be sure, but these two bands remind me of a couple of my favorite people.

Reading: I keep picking up "I Am Not A Serial Killer" by Dan Wells, but I just haven't found the time to sit down with it. Wells' debut novel is narrated by John Cleaver, a 15-year-old boy who is obsessed with serial killers. The deceptively simple prose underscores the tension between the boy's understanding of life and the events happening around him. That said, I'm only about 40 pages in. I keep getting distracted by new and exciting blogs I've discovered through Blog Like Crazy.

Planning: I already have a few pages' worth of resolutions for 2013 scribbled in my notebook. Writing more for fun and freelance is at the top of each. Money-wise, I've outlined a budget using the free LearnVest app and website. In my opinion, it's a more user-friendly service than Mint.

Thinking about: After Blog Like Crazy ends, I'd really like to drill down into social media, writing and combinations of the two.

Making me happy: Blog Like Crazy has been a rare opportunity for me to connect with other writers who both inspire me and demonstrate that I have no valid excuses for neglecting my writing. The feedback that I've gotten so far has been incredibly encouraging. I'm hopeful that I'll be able to continue with the same energy and purpose when I'm not writing from prompts.

Title comes from the Cat Game scene in "Super Troopers."

Others have excuses, I have my reasons why.

There are many reasons why I write, and just as many for going almost a year without writing. With school, tutoring and building a new relationship, I ran out of time. Fun and freelancing (paid fun) just weren't priorities.

Then I met Javacia Harris Bowser. As an English teacher at ASFA, founder of See Jane Write and freelancer, she maintains a busier work schedule than I do. During our first (in-person) conversation, she mentioned, among other things, Blog Like Crazy. Since I didn't have a blog, I could sit on the sidelines and cheer the other Janes on, right?

Wrong. After three days of seeing women writers with careers, kids and goals take to the challenge, my remaining excuses for not writing vanished. I asked for help with my blog, and within a week, it was live.

The months of not writing took their toll. My first post took several hours of writing, editing and tweaking before it was passable. The second came together after some struggling, but it was stronger. By the fourth, writing no longer felt like swimming through molasses.

Now, I write to keep my voice. I write to honor my heroes and family and friends. I write to carve out a space in this world that is mine, and I write to try to capture what makes Birmingham special. I write because I don't feel obligated, and I write now so that I may write more in the future. I write because I love the process of finding the words, searching for better ones and seeing the finished product.

I may not yet know why I'll write tomorrow, but I've found that every day adds another reason to my list of reasons why.

Title from Nickel Creek's "Reasons Why."

Time out for mindfulness

With work and tutoring, writing and gift-making, all of my time between now and the holidays is already budgeted. Somewhere in there, I have to take some time to keep my mind clear so I can stay focused on my own goals and supportive of Adam's. Therefore, my four small goals are centered around mindfulness:

1. Work out three times a week or more. I may not be participating in my gym's holiday motivator because I don't need more t-shirts, but I do need to make sure my body and brain are in shape to get through.

2. Read The Three Pillars of Zen. Touted as the American guide to zen Buddhism, this book will be a useful resource in learning to consciously practice mindfulness and happiness.

3. Cook more. Sourcing my food and drinks locally when possible allows me to be a better steward of my resources. Supporting local farmers and business owners helps build the Birmingham scene and help the economy.

4. Pare down my belongings. The less you own, the less you have to clean. I would like to get rid of one more box of stuff by the end of the year. The big, exciting Christmas gift I've asked for this year is a vacuum cleaner. It'll cut the time required for cleaning sprees and the amount of dust left in my house. Thrilling, I know.

Should I trust this dialect to convey the right effect?

When I was young, I didn't have athletes as heroes, I had writers and journalists and scientists and explorers. NPR figures into some of my earliest memories, and I've grown into an NPR addict. Journalism was presented as the last bastion of impartiality--minus the 24-hour news cycle. That's why I, like my friend and sometimes editor Carla Jean Whitley, keep politics and religion out of my writing. It is not my business to define others' beliefs.

Through my writing, I can leave a record of the people and stories in my life. To my loved ones, I promise not to post too many embarrassing stories. I would like to leave a legacy of love, not embarrassment.

Through my writing, I hope to teach love and patience in dealing with difficult situations. I have learned from the best, and I will not covet that knowledge. If one person slows to consider their actions, I have left a legacy I can be proud of.

Title from Hellogoodbye's "Dear Jamie, Sincerely Me."

Teaching learning

As a tutor and educator of sorts, I get to see what kind of legacy I would leave if I was in the classroom. Right now, I do a lot of work with kids who come into high school with little or no foundational knowledge. Many of them have been taught that the only paths to knowledge are guarded by teachers, and are otherwise inaccessible. Yeats put best when he said "Education is not the filling of pail, but the lighting of a fire."

Because I'm not a teacher, my legacy will not be defined by the number of kids who start loving a subject after my class. Instead, I hope to be remembered as having provided a safe place for my kids to learn how to study through their own trial and error. Though it may be bad for business, my ultimate goal is for my kids to learn to study without needing my help.

When I was in high school, several of my teachers' classrooms were safe havens. I was more shy then, and their care and compassion shaped my idea of what education should be. I have had more than a few sessions of tutoring that were as much a conversations about life as they were educational. If I had had someone five to 10 years older as a confidant at that age, I might have behaved differently.

Over the next few years, I hope to be in a classroom as a teacher. I hope to pass along the love of learning that was taught to me. I hope to see them grow and learn and I hope for them to come back and visit.

My tutoring kids and their families have taught me a lot about kindness and welcoming in strangers so for now, I'll continue to focus on leaving my mark on the kids I work with.

Look at this stuff, isn't it neat?

As I've said before, I hate Black Friday. In fact, I would rather snuggle with a porcupine while eating poorly cooked Brussels sprouts than face the crowds that will be out in force today. Instead of sitting at home to avoid all of the traffic, I'm starting a new tradition this year. In the course of the cleaning I've done over the past few months, I've uncovered two garbage bags' worth of clothing and stuff that I don't use. Today I'm taking an inventory of that stuff and tomorrow it's going to the thrift store.

Taking that clutter out of my environment has a deeper effect than simply ordering my surroundings. Cleaning has always been a meditative process, but it's only enjoyable when other parts of my life are pretty much out of my control. Falling into a rhythm of dusting, sweeping, mopping, scrubbing and washing gives my brain the chance to move independently of my physical body.

Completely overhauling my brain's organization takes several hours. When I'm studying science it takes even longer. Very few people have actually seen me in the throes of one of these cleaning binges, and the ones who have just stay out of my way. Sometimes these cleaning meditations take my brain to slightly darker places, and it's usually been these interruptions that have allowed me to snap out of that line of thought.

Last time it happened, I was on medicine that made my mood go haywire even though I was exercising. It also made me dizzy and weak, so I took the first leg of the cleaning slowly. Two loads of laundry were waiting to be folded, and I threw another load into the washer and put the clean clothes to the side. During that cycle, I began dusting and sweeping the bedroom. For the following three hours, I methodically cleaned each room in my apartment.

When I started on the last task, folding laundry, I started thinking about the acts of kindness that have been offered to me recently. From hugs to food to laughter and understand, even the smallest of gestures is a reminder of the amazing people in my life. At the end of folding the laundry, I plopped down. After putting my thoughts and feelings from the past week in order, I needed a moment to collect what was left. When I got up, I left my apartment for the first time that day to share a beer with Adam and his friends. My life was in order, so a little fun was in store.

As for shopping, I'm going to stick mostly to Small Business Saturday. If I am going to throw some elbows, I'd rather the effort support Birmingham-based businesses. American Express's offer of a $25 credit for a $25 purchase on Small Business Saturday certainly doesn't hurt. Anyone want to go to Freshfully with me tomorrow?

Title from "The Little Mermaid" song "Part Of Your World." 

Give thanks, y'all

Last year, the list of things that make me thankful was scribbled on the cover page of a physics problem set along with my drawing of a turkey. This year, my list is even simpler.

I'm thankful for: 1. My family by blood. They might be 50 shades of crazy, but they raised me to be focus more on what I have and how much love is in my life. 2. Adam. My friend and partner holds me tight and keeps me (as) sane (as possible). He has phenomenal taste in people who have welcomed me with open arms. 3. My family by choice. I have a community of friends who've supported me through heartbreak and anger and celebrations. Their strength and love has been a true inspiration for healing and growth. 4. Social media. I've met many amazing people through Twitter, and Facebook allows me to keep connected to friends and family all over the world. 5. Beer. Birmingham's craft beer scene has grown exponentially as I've watched, thanks in part to the work of Free The Hops. I have gotten to know many wonderful individuals in real life over beers in the city. 6. Bonfires. I'm pretty sure lighting fires within city limits is illegal, mmkay? Because it's illegal, none of my friends would ever do that. Ever. Now that's out of the way, some of my favorite memories are from my friends' backyard snuggled into winter coats around a bonfire with a bowl of stew. 7. Photos. They add beauty and can remind you of people and places that would not be present in your life otherwise. 8. My tiny apartment. It's not large, glamorous or tidy, but it's weatherproof and feels like home. 9. Tutoring. I love this job, and getting the chance to relearn entire subjects is so much fun. Work-wise, only writing comes close to the satisfaction of watching my kids' moments of discovery and comprehension.

Another successful interaction with a man!

As a disclaimer, it takes a lot to keep my attention and I suck at flirting, so falling in love is a long process for me. Several friends have banned me from wingman duty after I got bored, started checking my phone and wandered off while on call. Follow these nine easy steps and you just might fall in love. It worked for me.

1. Meet new people. Whether it's through volunteering at a local film festival or through trivia, diversifying your friend group can lead to increased happiness on its own.

2. Take a chance. Did a cute guy just sit down across from you? Start the conversation. Is he interesting? Stay for a bit.

3. Judge their interest level. Is he smiling? Are there Lisa Frank stickers available? If so, aim for the forehead. Is he still smiling? Congratulations! You have just had another successful interaction with a man.

4. Connect on social media. Does he like Nickelback? If so, ignore. If not, proceed. Mention cephalopods, NPR and mixology.

5. Hang out with a group. Commandeer the hammock. Ignore everyone to discuss the Superman black bag issue and comics-based movie franchises.

6. Hang out one on one. Take over a six pack of stout. Watch R. Kelly's "Trapped In The Closet." Stay up til 4 talking. Sleep. Eat breakfast. Watch football. Repeat.

7. Plan a trip abroad. After a few months, you're going to need a little space to cement your thoughts. When you're dropped off at 5 AM, realize you don't want to travel alone for three weeks. Bawl. Repeat when you get out of cell range and again when you find that your Internet won't support Skype or FaceTime.

8. Come back. More importantly, share what you learned. Smile more. Flirt more. Sometimes it takes half a world's distance to realize the value the person next to you holds.

9. Be kind. Slip that tiny bar of bacon chocolate into his bag. Expect excited text messages two days later when he finds it.

Title taken from a recurring phrase on "30 Rock."

You ate the apple, invented pants ...

If I wrote for television, I would write for "Supernatural." It may not be a terribly complex program, but the cast members obviously don't take themselves too seriously. Some episodes, like "The French Mistake," are unexpectedly hilarious. Continuing the long-running trend of transporting characters to worlds without magic or monsters, the two main characters crash through a window into a world where their lives are a television show.

It's a meta-episode, with the actors playing exaggerated versions of themselves. Misha Collins, who usually plays the angel Castiel, is a lesson on how a celebrity ought not to use social media. At one point, he tweets "Hola, Mishamigos! J-squared got me good. Really starting to feel like one of the guys." What stands out the most is not the contrast with his actual Twitter page, but his use of social media as a way to not interact with the people who are physically present. He's not really trying to form a relationship with either of the two leads, he's just talking about it.

I came away from watching it wondering a lot of things. First, is maintaining authenticity possible when you have thousands of followers? Second, do I try to capitalize on the successes of the people around me? Third, am I ever going to be able to write in as many styles as Collins can act? Fourth, why the hell did I just watch four hours of "Supernatural?"

Looking at the profiles of some immensely popular Twitter handles, one thing is clear. It is possible to stay in touch with those who support you without straying far, far away from what you are known for. For instance, I have seen Neil Gaiman retweet hyper-local posts from fans asking for help with literacy and activism work all over the world. His wife, Amanda Palmer, does the same.

On a smaller level, it's absolutely possible to balance promoting your brand and your work and interact with your followers. I'm still trying to find that balance; some days I'll get overwhelmed and shut off Twitter. With all the bite-sized pieces of information swirling around, your message might get lost in the flow, but keep working at it. Make connections, meet friends, try something new. A whole new world awaits your attention.

Title from "Reading Is Fundamental," another episode of "Supernatural." I may listen to (some) trashy music and watch (some) pretty trashy television, but I will not consume bad art or bad books. A girl's gotta have standards, after all.

My Manifesto, OR How I accidentally stopped drinking coffee

Two weeks ago, right before I stared this blog, I accidentally gave up on drinking coffee. The brewing system at work is A. a drip maker B. cheap and C. lacking cream. It's also $9 per month to drink. Yes, I'm aware that the cost is equivalent to that of three cups of coffee at the local shops I frequent. Yes, I'm an insufferable coffee snob who would rather forgo her morning coffee fix than drink poor quality coffee. And yes, I should probably wake up 10 minutes earlier to make my own damn coffee and stop complaining.

Honestly, I would rather forgo doing a lot of things than do them poorly. I have a case of what I call creativity stifling perfectionism. It's not a technical diagnosis, but every time I begin a project, it sneaks up on me. If the hook isn't right, I'll rewrite it until it's passable (my personal record is 23 discarded drafts).

When it comes to the case of writing and social media use (or tweeting about writing or writing about social media), I'm the same type of stickler, and my autocorrect doesn't always watch my back. Wording may be what forms the meat of the post, but it's the intention behind the crafting that makes the whole creation meaningful.

What follows is my manifesto: This blog is a record of the people and opportunities I encounter through social media, and as such, a testament to its connective power. It is an ongoing love note to the city of Birmingham and its citizens. It is an attempt to teach effective personal social media usage as I learn it.

My caffeine headache may have abated, but my desire to work more towards focusing this blog on social media has not. I haven't blogged without the structure of Blog Like Crazy, but as the blog starts to take shape and gain direction, my manifesto will be there as a reminder to stop, think and share the meaningful connections social media has facilitated in my life.

Activity vs fitness

Fitness is inherently social. From weight rooms to running groups to spin classes, the gym can be a great place to connect with others who share your goals. Like social media, it can be a good place to start conversations that require further face time to complete.  I, on the other hand, am active. During office hours I move as much as possible and probably burn hundreds of calories from the stress of mini-commutes between tutoring lessons.

In the world of new media, social media is becoming an integral part the fitness process. The same people who over share about their lives in general usually treat physical activity the same way (“Headed to the gym! LOL #workinonmyfitness”). Others use social media networks to build a network of accountability.

Likewise, gyms and groups have begun using Facebook and Twitter to connect with potential clients. The new Inspire Fitness in Southside is just one of those places. I got invited to try Inspire through Gabe Rios, a librarian at Lister Hill Library and one of the co-owners of the gym. I took one of his Friday Happy Hour spin classes and (miraculously) made it through. After giving up my short-lived attempts at running because of my knees, Gabe’s class gave me a runner’s high for the first time in too long.

Two years ago, I had the pleasure of writing an article on Magic City Cycle Chix, a local women’s cycling group. Kim Cross started this Facebook group in January 2011, this community has grown to almost 600 members in the last two years and has put on some awesome programs. Unfortunately, I have not had the chance to attend any of the workshops they've hosted, but I have it on good information that these events were awesome.

Here in Birmingham, local writers have started blogs like The Jen West Quest and Who Ate My Blog? to document their weight loss journeys. Putting this information on the Internet has allowed them to build a supportive community for their goals and publicly document their progress.

At this point, I’m seriously considering adopting a similar system. Over the past two years, I have repeatedly struggled back into something resembling fitness, gotten busy and fallen out of the habit. It’s just easier to reach for my knitting needles instead of the dumbbells after a 13 hour day. For the rest of the year, I am going to lift weight and do cardio at least twice a week. As a change of pace, I’m going to try to do at least one fun class a week, whether it is yoga at the Yoga Circle or Spin at Inspire. Let’s hope that shaking up my routine drags me out of this workout funk.