the overanalysis.

the existential crises of a 30-year-old transplant to LA.

[theoveranalysis]

attraversiamo.

To cross over.

To leave something behind and start fresh.

To move from one place to another, literally and/or figuratively.

Life just seems like the repetitive action of building bridges and crossing over them.  I feel like I'm finally starting to see the end of some of these projects and the beginning of new ones.  It's thrilling and daunting and there is always work to be done.

[theoveranalysis]

I started taking antidepressants today -- Zoloft, to be exact.  I suppose in many ways this has been a long time coming.  I've dealt with anxiety and depression for over a decade and have had several stints of talk therapy and CBT (which I am actually starting to see slow progress from).  In other ways, I am so surprised that things have taken this turn.  For so long I thought I'd be able to handle it with therapy alone, but I've decided to give this a real chance.  I want to see if I'll be able to feel better more consistently.  At the moment, I just feel lethargic.

[theoveranalysis]

on writing.

"You'd be a great writer!" he says. 

"But what would I even write about?  Only half the time do I feel like I have something to say, and it's always derivative of something someone else has already said...and much more eloquently, to boot!"

"See, that's why you'd be a great writer."

"What are you even talking about?"  I'm incredulous.

"You use funny turns of phrase in common speech.  'To boot'.  You're so cute."

"Funny phrases do not a good writer make, Dan.  Good writers have things to say.  They contribute to ongoing conversations and bring up original ideas.  Just because I know how to express myself well in the written word does not mean that I can do either of those things."

"Seinfeld didn't have anything particularly interesting to say.  He just had a distinctive way of saying things.  You could do that."

"Ugh...but that's just so...so...boring!  It's already been done.  I don't want to do a thing that's already been done."

"Then I'm afraid you were born too late, my dear.  We're all doing the things that have been done before, just differently at this point." 

"Or we're doing them exactly the same but we just tell ourselves it's different because we're doing it 50 years later."

[theoveranalysis]

I frequently find myself wondering if I am doing the right thing when it comes to my career and the daily effort I put into my work.  Like, I just don't know that this is for me.  The problem with that feeling is that I don't know what else I would do otherwise.  I have yet to find another thing that I am skilled at, although there are plenty of things I want to develop a skill in.  The problem with this is that I don't have the means to simply try new things all the time.  I have to work, and I have to make money to survive.  It always amazes me when people are doing things with their lives that are all at once meaningful and gainful.  How does that even work?  What would it feel like to live in such a way?  I've never tried to think about it too long, simply because I don't know that it is a viable option for me.  I didn't have a parent modeling a life like that, and even now I talk myself out of making the effort to try new things. 

[theoveranalysis]

Bear's Den - "Above the Clouds of Pompeii"

[theoveranalysis]

terms of endearment.

For some reason, I started thinking this morning about all of the nicknames I’ve been given over the years (and yes, they are a gift) and how much those names tie into my sense of self.  Each one also represents a certain time in life, although there are a few that I’ve been called for years now. 

Things I have been called by loved ones:

Red on the Head, Doodle, Squirrely Girl (all by Mom), Baby (by Dad), Ames, TinyAmy, Aimster, Berbs, Rare Bird.

One isn’t supposed to make their own nickname; it is endowed upon you by people who know you and care for you.  I think that’s probably best, given that I probably wouldn’t ever be able to come up with better names for myself if I tried.

[theoveranalysis]

blogging is dead.

Blogging is dead.  It’s been said before, and it’ll be said again, despite all of the new blogs that keep popping up (including this one).  What does that statement actually mean, though?  People are still writing and readers are still reading and photos of babies and food and outfits and makeup are still being shared.  But it feels different, no?

I remember when I first started reading a few style blogs back in 2008.  The idea was so fresh, I thought, and it seemed so brave for these women to post their daily outfits.  I got a lot of great ideas from those ladies.  I liked feeling like I was a part of their lives.  Then advertising started happening.  And c/o’s and magazine shoots and NYFW.  These seemingly normal women were thrust into a bigger spotlight…the same spotlight that had only ever shone on the now stale world of Vogue and WWD and InStyle.  

At first, I was impressed!  After all, these women had normal day jobs and budgets, and here they were getting lots of attention.  The readership of these blogs grew along with their exposure.  The sites became slicker, the writing more elevated, the clothing much more expensive.  Many of these women somehow became the models of the world they once stood outside of, just as interested parties.  It was like reading a magazine.

But I didn’t want to read magazines online — I wanted the raw, rough-edged, honest blogs.  I think those are gone now.  What have we to replace them with?  We have folks who seem to start these highly polished blogs for the sole purpose of getting that sort of attention.  And you know what?  I'm just not interested. 

I want the benefits of a Twitter culture (where folks say what they're thinking often without editing) and a longer conversation.  I want to bring to light the things I'm thinking and have a discussion.  I want a giant dinner party of a blog where I can have meaningful conversations with people I feel comfortable with.  How do I do that?  What shape does that take?  I have no idea.  But I'm going to do it anyway.