Writing an autobiographical piece isn’t easy. Making myself sound interesting so you will want to read what I write? Is it even possible? Does it take skill or luck? Hopefully, skills…I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting a luck dragon yet.



I am Sophia.
(Soph for short, obviously.)

I’m 26 and I have a few tattoos…all beautiful, ironic outcomes of drunken escapades with friends and my sister. (After all, I did get “think” tattooed to my neck.) I haven’t seen my natural hair color since I was fifteen but my husband encourages me to just let it be so for 2014, I’m giving up the crazy dye jobs.  I am up to my eyeballs in student debt with a degree that has led me no where but to a major car insurance company. I must say my job really is great, just not what I had pictured myself doing. Yes, I suppose I could have tried harder in school. But even with a more diligent work ethic, my art history degrees  would have been the downfall. (Degrees, uh huh…plural…I have a masters hiding in my back pocket.) I’m fancy, huh?

I grew up in sunny California and at 19 I moved to Buffalo, New York. It was just time for a change; I was so tired of pretending to care about keeping up with the Joneses.  So I shipped Ellie, my 1999 silver Ford Escort, across the country, bought a one way ticket and jumped ship. Leave the beach for Buffalo, girl you are crazy. I hear that still. To a degree, I believe them. I mean who gives up predictable weather for chicken wings, beer, good neighbors, and copious amounts truckloads of snow? Originally, I was planning on using Buffalo as a stepping stone to get to the Big Apple. I was going to get those degrees and work at the MET, coordinating educational programming with local schools and organizations, bringing art to the masses! I was also going to be a Rockette…in my dreams, that is. But life, life just likes to get in the way. You get a job as a waitress for a major seafood chain restaurant, your family moves to the area with you, you meet a man, you upgrade your job (sort of), you buy a house, you get married, you work on making babies…but that’s what it is. It’s life. It’s about making the most of what you have and realizing that your life is pretty freaking amazing, even if you’re not a Rockette. You change what you can and abide with the rest.

I uprooted myself from my protected seedling pot in California to find my way in New York…only to find it doesn’t matter where we choose to grow as long as we do. Growing into my adult self in Buffalo, I learned what I, as Sophia, like to do. I cook, I write, I think I’m a comedian, I have a sewing machine, I hate my job, I love my job, and I love home improvement projects. And I write about all of that here. All the ups and downs and Pinterest fails…because oh my gawd, there are just too many of those. It’s like a diary from 7th grade. This is my never-ending story about my life without a luck dragon.

And it’s time you got a loaf of Soph.



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July 2018
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