Happy New Year!
So, I have said this time and time again: never trust me. I am famous for my stories- the ones that are not entirely true. I would never lie about something of a serious nature or anything that truly concerns another human being and their precious feelings. What I lie about is myself. I tend, as you have seen by the previous two posts, to make grand declarations to myself. They say the way to hell is paved with good intentions; I wouldn't say my intention to make a blog about my last years of almost 30-dom are "good", but man did I drop the ball...again! Rewind to June; I was all bright eyed and rosy cheeked thinking about the impact my words could have on my readers. Heart pumping as I pledged, to myself, that this writing thing was going to be daily and plentiful. June 24th- what better day to commit to yourself? You know what happened? I didn't write another post for over six months. Not a quick blurb about my favorite scarf of the winter season- For the record it's this chunky cable knit infinity number in a beautiful cranberry hue that cost me on $8.00 plus Maine tax. I found it while at Christmas Prelude- an event that, if I had been writing regularly, would have made for quite the story. When I went to see Beyonce and then mere weeks later Jay-Z and Justin "I am so hot" Timberlake, not a word was typed. Both shows were transcendental, inspiring, the things words are meant for! Nothing.
With 65 days left until I leave "Almost30" behind, I am going to write as often as I can. Don't quote me on that. Quote me on the brilliant nuggets of wisdom I am sure write in the very near future. Like tomorrow. Honest.
Enjoy your blogs, as they bring me to a place I remember well, my 29th year. I was certainly in a much different place in life than you are, yet the thought of turning 30 gave me a case of the horrors. The big day finally arrived, went out to celebrate and I got carded. Whoopie! ( and the drinking age may have been 18 at the time.) That made me feel a lot better. Then.... nothing happened, the world didn't come to an end, and I didn't grow wrinkles overnight. I realized that the anticipation was far worse than the actual happening. Turning thirty ended up being no big deal. Turning 70, however, was different, as I face my mortality, and the loss of dear friends, I feel vulnerable. These are the years that you really start to appreciate your life and the people in it. You, my dear granddaughter, have a long way to go, and there is one thing I know for sure, your life will turn out exactly as it is suppose to! xoxoxo (I think I like this blogging thing!)
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