I really miss this space.
I miss coming back to this blog, this tiny little bright, cozy corner of the Internet that was all mine and was such a big part of my life for so long. I miss taking a few minutes out of my day to pull up my laptop, drink a glass of wine (or 3) and keep track of the big things in my life, and the little things in my life, and the completely mundane things in my life that would have been completely forgotten about had I not recorded it for posterity.
Wading through the sometimes pointless, sometimes obnoxious, and often cringe-inducing (what is with the third person references, Lulu?!) posts in these archives allow me to look back and really marvel at some of the things I’ve done in this short life of mine. Sometimes I sit at a stoplight in my 2011 Town and Country minivan, The Adventures of Peabody and Sherman blasting from the travel car TV behind my head, and can’t believe there was a point in my life where I lived in New York City for 3 solid years.
I’m happy that Instagram is a “thing”, and that is allowed me to microblog, if you will, over the last few years to capture some day-to-day snapshots. But I came back to this page for the first time in a looooong time- it’s been almost a year since I even typed in the URL- and am sad I didn’t take the time to recap my trip to visit Ryan when he lived in Prague during grad school. I’m sad I didn’t rehash what it was REALLY like to semi-solo parent a destination wedding trip to Mexico with 2 small toddlers (newsflash: mostly not very vacation-y).
I’m not the journal writing type (good Lord, you should SEE my handwriting in real life), and I’m not good at keeping up on photo albums in this digital camera/camera phone age (the kids don’t even HAVE baby books yet, which makes me feel guilty on a regular basis). This has always been that little space in the world I have to catch little snippets of life and save it for later.
But bringing yourself to actively start blogging is a hard thing to bring oneself to do these days- there’s this self-imposed pressure to have the most bright, clear, professional photos and the most spectacularly styled house and curated closet; a second-guess that the post you want to put together on your favorite recipe is somewhat “less than” because the cutting board is sitting on the brownish-greenish-grey granite of the house you rent, instead of on the crisp Carrera marble counter of that modern farmhouse of yours people can’t seem to stop pinning photos of.
But that’s just not who I am- I don’t spend piles of money at Resto Hardware, and I can’t DIY crown moulding into my rental house. I can’t do seasonal posts on the greatest new children’s clothing, because right now I only shop for the kids once a year. Nobody is going to be moved by my fashion posts because a) aloof fashion poses were never my strong suit (my modeling career abruptly ended at the age of 8 after a few print ads and a commercial for the local cable company), and b) I’ve mostly transitioned to a capsule wardrobe so I wear similar versions of the same thing each week. Part of me feels like if I’m not doing those things to the Nth degree, or if I don’t have a gimmick or some focused blog theme than I’m a mess and have no business posting on a public website.
But I’m kind of a mess- I’m trying to navigate this messy world just like all of you are, and I like weird, disparate things (I’m pretty sure I’m the only person on earth who was gifted the new book from Dita Von Teese AND a book on soil composition called Teaming With Microbes). I’m ready (again… I think…) to get back to putting my chaotic, messy, awesome life back on my website, and have a place to come back to in 6 months or 6 years and cringe and laugh some at more.