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Monday, February 10, 2014

Hey, Look! She Blogged!

Hey, look at that! It's been November since I blogged. Surprisingly, more of you commented on my break than I thought. I saw people at parties, in offices, and on the street who gushed over my writing (yes, gushed, I know that sounds like I'm making it up), asked about when I'd be posting again. Hell, even some of the trolls on the uncaring interwebs posted they missed, inexplicably, hearing me largely complain about my so-called middle-aged life. Gobsmacked.

Yeah, some of you are impressed with my thoughts on such pithy matters as the many faces of car pool or my crazy, long-haired hippie freak points of view. Who knew? First, thanks, those of you who said something to me. You're nice! You bowl me over, actually. I never really thought anyone really paid attention to my lil' ol' blog, much less looked forward to it or laughed aloud to it or identified with me. Really. Most of blogging seems like talking into the wind. *taps mic* This thing on?

But you called me talented. I liked that. Because I stopped blogging for awhile for a couple of reasons: a) the aforementioned futility thing and a general feeling that blogging has been overdone to death, b) I got super busy with my first job, my family, and my second job wearing the Professional Hat, and finally, c) I wasn't sure what the point was. What was I hoping to accomplish?

But thanks to y'all, I think I know. It's called the joy of self expression, bitches. I have these thoughts that crowd my head AND NOTHING IS OKAY UNTIL THEY ARE SEEN BY YOU. I know. I don't understand it myself. It's more than a little dicey. It's possibly pathological. I shout. I have terribly, terribly unpopular opinions. Sometimes I'm in a great mood and you'll get what passes for my funny. Other times IT'S ON ACCOUNT OF THE OUTRAGE and words literally will ooze from my ears if I don't bleed them out.

Okay, sorry about that. But the shouting comes with the territory for now. I'm working on it. I meditate and seek therapy. So tune away if you aren't ready. It's a Me Party, thank you, Muppets, and I gotta be me. You do you. So if you're reading this, be forewarned! Momma always did say if you're gonna sing badly, sing loudly. Here's to the sometimes-messy joy of self expression. Because the bird doesn't have breaking news. But she sure has a beautiful song.