Well, for a while the greatest unsolved mystery I had was: “Why did Marissa stop posting on her blog?” But I think I’ve cracked the case: She was stressed, depressed, and trying to be well-dressed for job interviews and work.
Yes, my friends, while I had envisioned a fabulous life of sitting in cafes blazing through cover letters and murder research in tandem until someone, anyone, called me back and I would finally be able to afford my apartment independently, life was a little more… lackluster than that. Instead, I mostly went stir crazy in my apartment with intermittent attempts to work out (but normally opted to sleep), shifts at my part time job, and rending my soul into the tiniest shreds with each passing cover letter with no answer. I would have loved to write and research, but every time I thought about it, it felt like I was wasting precious time that could be spent applying to more jobs. Which is probably how I ended up in a temp job I was not great at and where I hated the work environment (there were warning signs in the interview, all of which I ignored for the sake of a steady income). I was working there when they caught the Golden State Killer and I had to contain it. Can you imagine?
Pyewacket (@pyecrumbs)
I am convinced he sees ghosts
Luckily, I only stayed there a month until I got my permanent job. I have benefits! I pay my own rent! My roommate got a cat! I should no longer feel guilty for writing and researching in my free time, right? But honestly, a year into the job I’m still trying to determine how to manage my post-work free time. I want to watch things on Netflix (I blasted through the Madeline McCann documentary in a couple days), I want to read more, I want to write creative things that don’t involve the extra step of research, I want to play Dungeons and Dragons. I want to do so many things. But I also want to write true crime and even (gasp) podcast about it. (That’s right, ya girl got a mic!)
I never need a new notebook... but gifts are welcome.
I’ve actually had a research tab sitting on my phone for a week now. I’ve been carrying a beautiful notebook gifted to me by my friend, Bailey, sitting in my bag for taking notes in my downtime at work. And then something odd happened on Twitter.
I got a new follower. It happens from time to time, no big deal. It’s mostly randos, bots, or friends just joining Twitter. I look at it and it’s a verified Twitter that’s following me. Still no big deal. It happens, normally as a result of my old #smpasocial tweets or they’re looking to promote themselves and then immediately unfollow. I normally leave it alone, and forget in a matter of days.
But I got a DM, asking if I still write true crime. (It’s still in my bio, probably out of obstinate optimism to get back on this blog.) I look at the page. Turns out it’s Rikki Rockett of the glam rock band, Poison. I check his YouTube page he has linked on his Twitter and he’s just covered the Girl Scout Camp Murders! (Check out my post on it, too!) And, honestly, having to answer the question to a stranger made me realize I can have this big long story about how I wasn’t in the right mindset, was busy, etc., or I can get on and write. It’s fine I had to take the time I did, but it’s also important to just…let myself do the thing I want to do.
So here I am. I’m going to be cleaning up, updating, redesigning (if Squarespace doesn’t drive me too mad) this site. And then I’ll hit you with a new case. We’re going straight to the roots of this blog. Urban myths. Legends. And… bunnies. Stay tuned.
So, shout out to Rikki Rockett, I guess? Every Rose Has Its Thorn, but this cowgirl is done singing her sad, sad song. I’m going to get around to… well… telling other people’s sad, sad stories. You get the idea. I normally leave the puns to my boyfriend, so it’d be cool if we could all let this lame one slide. If you want to check out the first part of his coverage of the Girl Scout Camp Murders, I linked it above and you can check it out here.
Catch you all soon. (Should I come up with a sign off for these update posts? I don’t know. Anyways, Michelle McNamara said, “it’s chaos, be kind,” so let’s go with that for now.)