365 days of blogging
I was one year ago today that I wrote my very first blog post. Since then, I have written at least one every day.
Imagine writing an essay every day for an entire year. No days off. No vacations from writing. No being too sick or too tired to get it done. No rest for the weary. No matter what is happening, or not happening, in your life you must soldier on and write.
And so I did.
I can’t remember ever being so dedicated to something I didn’t give birth to. But then again, I do feel as if I have given birth to my blog. It has become a part of me—from the very first blog to the one I’m writing now. And so, the daily blog turns one.
I should have baked a cake.
If my kitchen wasn’t torn apart from moving, I would have done just that. But instead, in honor of this event, I wore my underwear inside out on purpose. And I went to get wings at my favorite wing place, the Olde Towne Tavern—the place where the wings are either amazing or horrible, depending on the night. And in honor of my one year anniversary of blogging, the wings were perfect!
I have been asked, on many occasions, why I didn’t just take a day off. Surely I could still blog four days a week as easily as seven. But I knew if I didn’t write every day that I would slack off. I needed to hold myself to a higher standard.
So even when I was too sick to write my blog I dictated to my husband what he should say and made him write it. When I was on vacation I forced myself to take a break from the fun to get my posts in. And while I’ve been moving this week, I have pushed through the exhaustion to come up with something to say.
And although there isn’t always something profound to say, it has been an eventful year.
I waxed a pole, discovered my name meant something far different than what I would have expected, flooded my stove, almost set fire to my house (a few times), came to grips with the fact that thanks to my father’s arsenal of weapons I may actually have an FBI file, but also thanks to my father I have nobility in my pedigree, spent months trying to kick my girl scout cookie habit, started several diets that didn’t pan out, found my dog walking around on the roof of the house, adopted a puppy and a ninja kitty, and lost a dear old geriatric Labrador, bought an $80 omelet pan (and returned it for a cheaper one within two hours), found out that sushi has a lot in common with sex, and dongles have nothing at all to do with sex, discovered that the ground hog is truly a sadistic little bastard, talked about zombies a lot for no reason other than it was fun, had a few trying moments parenting teenagers, and dealing with in-laws and exes, had a year’s worth of book clubs but didn’t read a single book, and let’s not forget that hot pink sweater!
Oh, sure…a lot more than that happened, but I’ll let you go back and read them all if you’d like. As for me? I’m really tired. I’m not done moving yet. I’m going to bed.
But hey, I’ll be back tomorrow.
Until the next time…I’m still that dancing bear, out here just to entertain you…I hope you still like it!