On May 1, a smoking ban was put into effect here in Michigan. So basically you can’t smoke in restaurants, bars, bowling alleys, etc.
I think it’s awesome to go out to the bar without having to throw my clothes into the basement when I get home because they literally stink up my entire room with the smell of secondhand smoke. I’m all about it because when I’m around more than one person smoking, it makes me feel sick and I almost always get a headache or migraine. Other than that – No, I don’t care if you smoke. It’s your body and you have the right to treat it however you want.
I’ve heard a lot of reasons from various people on why they like or dislike it. A lot of people mention freedom and having the “right to smoke,” while others refute they have the “right to breathe clean air.” Obviously I think the person making the healthier choice has the advantage, particularly because smoking affects OTHERS around you (because no, smoking a cigarette in public is not the same as eating saturated fats in public. Saturated fats being eaten by you don’t make ME fat. I’ve heard this argument one too many times and I want to set myself on fire every single time). Also, banning smoking in restaurants improves food and health codes so are you really going to argue against having a healthier and safer place preparing food for you?
Anyway, the whole point of this is that over the weekend I heard quite possibly one of the stupidest, narrow minded and most unintelligent arguments against the smoking ban I’d ever heard in my life.
A lady I know who’s in her 40’s and a smoker said she has the right to smoke anywhere she wants. If I have a problem with it, I don’t have to go somewhere where people are smoking. I’m making the choice to go where the smoke is, and I can leave. Of course, my argument was that she can step outside. “But why do I have to step outside to have a cigarette? If you don’t like it, why can’t you? It’s my right to smoke. You say you have the right to breathe clean air, and we can go in this circle all day. I have just as much a right to smoke as you do to breathe clean air, so you can leave, too.”
At this point I thought my head was going to explode, but then the real zinger came in. She said it’s no different than me drinking and then getting in a car and driving because I’m putting her health at risk if she’s on the road at the same time as me.
YES, YES, YES!!! That is why DRUNK DRIVING is ILLEGAL! Because you’re putting OTHERS in danger!
That is basically the entire point I was trying to make. I don’t give a shit if she smokes. However, I give a shit when I have to breathe it in and it gives me a migraine. I don’t have health insurance. Migraine medication is not cheap. I try my hardest to adjust my eating habits and lifestyle so I don’t get them. Therefore, when your actions cause me to get migraines I want to stab you.
Nobody cares if you sit in your house and drink all day every day. However, once you get in your car and start driving drunk, everyone cares and you get in trouble because you are putting OTHERS at risk.
Nobody cares if you sit in your house everyday and shoot yourself in the foot. However, when you go outside and shoot someone else in the foot, you’re going to get in trouble.
Nobody cares if you kill yourself, but if you kill someone else you’re going to prison, psycho.
Basically, laws are not put in place to protect you from yourself. You can do whatever you want to yourself, nobody cares until you’re putting others in harm’s way. That’s when the problem arises and that’s when laws come into place. Nobody is trying to take away your holy carton of cigarettes, they’re just trying to protect others from them. Everyone, EVERYONE knows the health risks involved so if you’re smoking and don’t see it as an issue to others, you’re selfish.
I have a wicked bad swearing habit and it’s not like I was going to sit and swear in front of her 7 year old daughter that was with us, so if I take her argument into consideration in this case, I have the right to swear in front of her daughter and if she has a problem, she can tell her kid to go outside. I have the right to exercise my swearing habit in public, right?
It all boils down to this – your rights end where mine begin.
What do you guys think about smoking bans? If you’re from Michigan, do you love it or hate it?
I feel like we need to talk a little about authenticity and the fact that almost nobody has any, ever.
Every blogger/writer/musician/graphic designer/artist of any kind knows you’re not supposed to be creative and create things with the goal of becoming famous and making millions of dollars through a living doing what you love. Except nowadays, it’s nearly impossible to find a 100% authentic artist who said “screw what everyone else wants, I’m doing to do what I want and if they like it, they’ll come to me.” Need proof? Justin Beiber, Miley Cyrus, Rihanna, Katy Perry and basically any blogger who worries about their site statistics and how many people retweet their blog posts. The statistics will come if you do something that MATTERS, and you’ll feel way better about it. The celebrities I’m referring to set ridiculous standards in regards to music, and others try to be like them which is actually pretty easy considering they’re talentless and anyone can make some shit about cupcakes set to autotune. Standards are being set by talentless people and that’s the problem. Justin Beiber might be stupid successful, but that doesn’t mean he’s providing us with something we’ve never seen. We’ve heard the lyrics, we’ve heard the message and we’ve seen the same shitty haircut on every member of Green Day and Fall Out Boy. It’s the same thing in a new package and it’s constructed simply out of what people will pay money for without thinking twice. I mean, is he really even a human when it all comes down to it? Yes, this is the post where I reveal that Justin Beiber is a zombie. A zombie with bad hair.
I’ve know a lot of people that have started a blog or website because they have something to say. They’re usually anonymous or semi-anonymous and write whatever they want. They say the F-word, they talk about horse vaginas and the time a guy used butter as lube and people eat it up because they’re raw and uncensored and are not trying to please anyone, they’re just having fun and saying what they want to say. Even those who aren’t anonymous and censor themselves a little can be respectable if they do it in an original way that shows off their personality and isn’t a carbon copy of the crap being written about on the next domain over.
Some of these people look up to those who are are blogging for a living and making plenty of money off advertisements on their site. And they realize how awesome it would be to do that so they decide to work hard and give it a go. Except they realize they’ll have to be less anonymous because they want it to be THEM, they’re BRAND, and everything they represent. When they speak at conferences about how they created their own BRAND this is the website they’ll refer to, so it has to be different. If they’re less anonymous, they have to change the things they write about. And their tone. And they have to pay for an expensive layout because otherwise nobody will take them seriously. Because all bloggers are wicked good web designers and they never say the word “shitballs” or “slutty horse vagina” and they all go by the same uniformed set of rules. So that’s what they have to do.
And they change. They create a new website that they’re going to make money with and they’ll quit their full-time job and get cute business cards with their blog logo and it’s going to be SO AWESOME! They start crafting and writing posts that will appeal to the masses that read similar blogs to theirs, they create specific categories and themes that will tie into their strategic weekly posts, people will keep coming back each week for the Wonder Wednesday and Funny Friday posts to see what the person has come up with and people will be eating out of their hand and they’ll be totally famous. And then they’ll write a book titled “How to Become a Famous and Awesome Blogger Like Me” and it’ll be on the New York Times Bestseller list and they’ll be on Oprah talking about how blogging will change the world, and they’ll reveal a few secrets about their success that involve “stay true to yourself” and “don’t let anyone tell you what you can and can’t do,” except for the fact that they’re a total hypocrite because the very thing they did was change everything that made them awesome in order to make money and do what people wanted so they could quit their job and “insert fabricated talent here” for a living.
Does anyone even get what I’m saying? There are a million blogs out there and 98 percent of them are the same carbon copy as the next except from another person’s eyes. Nobody wants to hear what you had for breakfast and nobody wants to hear you make fun of the same politicians for the 48th time.
And then, AND THEN, all these people get cocky and start thinking they’re writers. I mean, anyone can write, right? They have a blog and they love doing it and they’re totally passionate about it so why can’t they write for a living? Anyone can. Right, right, RIGHT?!
Wrong, wrong, wrong! This is one of the biggest reasons writing and the journalism field sucks and is so diluted with garbage. While blogging is definitely an excellent platform to start a career, the loads of “I have a blog so I can write and I should make money doing it” is excessive and also diluted. Now these people feel entitled to recognition because they’re decent at something that virtually anyone can do and they enjoy it. This is when the changes start coming in and the work is no longer even theirs because they’re trying to figure out what everyone wants on a blog like theirs and that’s what they’re creating. So they’re not even making anything authentic even though that’s everything they’ve wanted to do; become famous off their creativity and talent that no longer exists.
Regardless of what anyone thinks, the moment your work starts being created to please others is the exact point when it begins to lose authenticity. I understand that life and careers aren’t just free range and we shouldn’t go around saying “fuck what you want, I’m gonna do what I want,” but when you’re doing something you enjoy and then decide to give it a go professionally, you’re going to enjoy it far less once you realize the amount of load that drops from your shoulders as soon as you start doing something that is guaranteed to bring in the masses and attention you want. Even then, you feel you’re taking far less of a risk but the masses still are not even coming in. That’s because someone else is already doing what you are trying to do and probably doing it better because it was their idea. I feel like this paragraph needs a math equation but just thinking of that makes me want to set myself on fire.
If you want to be successful with your creativity, you literally have to ignore everyone else that is already doing what you want to do. Nowadays there is no other way to do it. Because then you won’t be influenced by those who are already successful and you won’t want to do what they’re doing. Not that looking up to people is a bad thing, but there is a gigantic difference between finding idols and mentors and using others hard work as examples of what you want to do and create. If you’re following others, you will wind up making something totally different that isn’t even what you originally set out to do and in the end, you will be far less proud and satisfied.
This blog post was written on a whim because I’ve noticed the number of people trying to make money through blogging, tweeting, whatever and it just isn’t working because you can literally SEE in everything they do that it’s just not THEM, and that they’re struggling to make things just right so people will like it. It’s kind of sad, really because so many people really ARE trying to be what they’re not.
And maybe I am too by writing a post about authenticity. Everyone’s already said all this, haven’t they? What makes me think I can say it in a way that no one else has said it before? Well, I don’t think that, I know this has already been said. However, I feel it’s something that still needs to hit home for people and because of that, I’m going to write it out anyway. So here you go and whatever you do, don’t become a Justin Beiber zombie.
Femme writes is an excellent blog meme started by Marie and Shine to give women bloggers a platform to discuss various issues that affect… women. This month’s topic is body image and here’s what I have to say about that.
I feel like I’m supposed to write here about how I have love handles, I have a chubby chin, I have stretch marks and I have thighs that sometimes touch and DAMNIT I LOOK GOOD. I AM WOMAN, HEAR ME ROAR!
Yes, that is all true about my body. Was it always true? No. As you can discover through a photo in this post, I was really thin in high school. Like, broomstick thin. Once I graduated and stopped dancing full-time, I gradually gained weight and became a bit of a healthier size for my height and age. I was drastically underweight and everyone, I mean EVERYONE, was concerned about me.
I won’t lie. When you’re that thin, you never worry about whether or not something will make you look fat or whether or not it will cover up your bad areas. You don’t have a skin fold over your jeans, your bathing suit doesn’t make you look like a can of biscuits popped open, and you never have to wear a bra. Did I love it? Of course I did.
Now, roughly 7 years later, I weigh significantly more than I did in that photo. I am not overweight, but I am not skinny either. I have curves, I have jiggle, and I have an ass that would cause me to be killed and eaten first if I were stranded on a deserted island with a group of hungry survivors.
Over the past year my weight has plateaued (is that how you spell that?) and it has stayed about the same, give or take 5 pounds. Before that, it was a slow, gradual increase. Nothing unhealthy, but an increase that DID NOT MAKE ME HAPPY. All I could think was “I’m going to gain 10 pounds a year for the rest of my life. That means by the time I’m 30 I’ll be like 600 pounds.” Except not really because I can’t do math and that doesn’t make sense at all. Anyway, I was always thinking about what to do about it, always saving clothes that fit 20 pounds ago, and thinking about how great it will be once I fit into my high school jeans again.
Last summer was the start of the plateau. It was the most I’d ever weighed, and I hated everything about it. I worked all summer and traveled a lot so it’s not like I spent much (if any) time in a bathing suit, and believe me, I passed on every opportunity to do so. I stopped wearing cute sundresses I had in my closet and didn’t even want to wear tank tops because I feared my arm flab would make me look like a pile of cookie dough. Thankfully work kept me busy and I spent almost all summer in professional clothes. Before I knew it, fall came so I was allowed to wear sweaters and bundle myself up.
And here we are. It’s summer again. I weigh exactly the same, except I’ve begun to notice that I’m going in with a completely different approach and view of myself. I work at home, so I don’t have to wear professional clothes all the time. I have been doing a lot of yoga and exercising somewhat regularly since January, and doing that has completely changed my outlook on virtually everything about myself.
Aerial yoga at the Flyhouse is one of the most positive environments I’ve ever placed myself in. Men and women of all ages, sizes and fitness levels come together to climb up fabric, hang from a trapeze and put themselves in positions that allow the entire room to see their cameltoe sweat and probably some buttcrack as well. We don’t judge and we have a blast while doing it. Also, we gain some wicked awesome muscles and start to feel better about what we can do with our bodies. I’ve also been doing yin yoga with some of the Detroit blogger girls, and stretching and relaxing in a serene, quiet and calm environment is another way to help you become one with your inner thoughts and master your splits while you’re at it.
The thing is that I’m pretty sure I look about the same as I did last summer, but I FEEL much different about myself. I have always been a confident person, but the confidence I have now is different. I have surrounded myself with positive people, started doing activities that are good for me and that I enjoy, and embraced the fact that I have a curvy, womanly shape and it doesn’t mean I am disgusting and fat. I’m healthy, I work out regularly, I’m involved in a great yoga studio and am about to join another one. I have also stopped saving pants that no longer fit because I won’t even lie… if I DO happen to lose 30 pounds, I’m going to buy an entirely new wardrobe, not wear old clothes from 4 years ago.
Last summer was also the end of a really toxic relationship I spent far too much time in, so the excess negativity from that was probably weighing my mind down as well. Things are completely different now and I am loving how I look in dresses, tank tops and the rest of my fun summer clothes.
What the hell is your point, Mandy? I guess what I’ve learned about body image over the past year is that body image doesn’t have to do with what you see in the mirror. Oh hey, let’s get a little more cliche here, why don’t we! Sure, it’s about “inner beauty” and blah blah blah, but what I’m trying to say is that even if you’re bigger than you want to be or entirely out of shape, if you are using your body to do something you love and doing things that make you feel good, you will not only get in shape, but look good as well even if you haven’t really changed. You will see yourself in a better light and be proud of the things you can do with yourself. You’ll probably carry yourself with a little more confidence and other people will pick up on it. Now get up off the couch, stop complaining about what you hate about your body, and go do something awesome with it. It’ll make you feel good.
Oh, and stop eating garbage. Garbage in, garbage out. I know you’ve heard it a million times, but everything about you will look, feel and BE better if you stop eating like a cow and start treating your body the way it deserves to be treated. Not to say I don’t dive into a little red meat here and there, but I’ve turned things around and I eat clean because I like to feel clean. It improves everything about me and it’s something that will make a huge difference in everything you do. Get down with those leafy greens and soy nuts then thank me when you’re shitting way better.
So my Mom is getting married in August and it’s pretty much going to be the greatest thing ever. My sister and I will be standing up there looking adorable and we cannot decide the dress we want to wear. Mom is cool about things so we don’t even have to wear the same color OR dress, but we’d like to look similar if we can. She will likely be wearing pink and I will likely be wearing blue or teal. Here are the dresses we have narrowed our search down to. Add a little more boobs and butt, better hair and a more transparent complexion and basically that’s how we would look in them. So basically nothing like this:
I’m thinking this is the color I would wear. My favorite part of this dress is the flower and the cleavage (I’ll take it!) although I’m leaning more toward a strapless dress.
I think this one is my favorite. I would even wear this color.
Twirls would be totally fun in this one.
I think this is sister’s favorite. I like it, but I like the fun bottoms on the others a little more.
SO MANY DECISIONS….. I want them all. The best part is that I would probably wear any of these again if I were to go to a wedding or formal event, so that’s a bonus.
Mom also made it clear that I cannot wear animal print, so I’m thrilled to see that there are other acceptable alternatives.
What do you think?
***I actually posted this yesterday, then removed it soon after because I worried I sounded too insensitive or politically incorrect or whatever else could be possibly taken from this post. Then I realized this is my blog and I do what I want, and this is a story that still disturbs me and bothers me to this day so I need to get it out there. Aaaand scene.***
When I was 16 I went to Disney World with my Mom, brother, sister, my Mom’s best friend and her 2 kids. This was the trip that caused me to realize I might have an attitude problem. Or maybe when my attitude problem started coming out. It’s also why I will never return to MGM Studios. It’s going to be hard telling this story while still appearing “sensitive” because that’s the last thing these maggot infested sores on the taint of humanity deserve from me.
So we’re in MGM Studios and I have to pee. I go into the restroom with my Mom and her friend. We’re in the stalls when I hear an unnecessarily loud, outspoken and incoherent woman charging in with her daughter, screaming at her because she peed her pants. I walked out of the stall and the woman literally throws her daughter into a stall. I hear her slap her face, hear her calling her daughter an idiot and a dumbass for pissing her pants at the age of 5, and I hear the little girl screaming to her Mom to stop hitting her. A few seconds later I see a woman who looks identical to the other woman walk in with a little girl who is identical to the one currently being beaten by her mother in the stall. I’m assuming the two women were twins, or at least sisters, who each had 5 year old daughters that also looked identical (same father? Who knows. Weird). The women were dressed identical and so were the little girls. It was a sight and all I’m going to say is that together, the 4 of them probably hovered around 800 pounds. Like I said, it was a sight.
So I’m at the sink, in shock because a woman is literally beating her daughter in the stall, and my Mom’s friend (who works with domestic violence victims) says we have to go find security immediately because HELLO, this woman is beating her kid. Her twin hears us talking and starts screaming at us because “she ain’t beatin’ her kid and if she do beat her it ain’t our business.” Or something. And then she tries to block the door and I have to duck under her arm and over her leg in order to get out of the door. Then I tell her to fuck off. Thank God for ballet and being 90 pounds soaking wet because it was pretty easy to get through her and immediately hidden beneath the solar eclipse she created behind her so she couldn’t grab me and throw me down.
Anylard, I find a group of security officers and tell them what’s going on. There are now 3 other women with me who heard/saw the whole thing and are freaking out because there is a woman in the bathroom beating her kid. Now, the two women and their daughters come charging out of the bathroom at full force screaming at us because we’re “up in their business” and need to get our white asses out of there. Of course she claims she wasn’t beating her kid even though her kid is bawling and shaking and everything else that demonstrates a helpless child who needs to be removed from her mother’s custody.
The security officers stand there baffled because they don’t know what to do. They end up saying there is nothing they can do because they didn’t actually witness it happen. The two women throw up their hands in victory, throw out a few “what, WHAT”’s at us and I think there may have been a few finger snaps as well. The one that didn’t abuse her child told my Mom I need to “beef up my language” after telling her to fuck off, and I told her to hand over some of the beef coating her ass because there was more than enough to go around. And trust me, there was. (Fist bump, sweet insults before I gained any wit whatsoever, clearly).
And then we all parted ways and thankfully/surprisingly they weren’t on the plane back to Detroit.
And that’s the story of when I discovered my anger problem. Sadly, I didn’t discover it sooner because had that happened NOW, MGM would have received a formal letter of complaint from me and I probably would have bit someone.
Oh, I think this is also the trip where I massively sunburned my bikini line and mons pubis thanks to my ridiculously small bikini and realized that SPF 50 is a load of crap.
So, anyone have a better story about “the happiest place on earth?”
I have no reason to blog lately.
I really hope the urge comes back soon because it’s one of my favorite things to do, but in all honesty, I’m really content and it’s surprisingly a good thing. Normally I’m not OK with content but I am really enjoying this and have occupied myself enough to where I’m busy living rather than waiting for something to write about.
There are a few really good things on the horizon for me lately, or at least I think there are. My relationships with select individuals have changed for the better and are continuing to surprise me in the best way possible. I am really liking my work freedom and am absolutely thrilled that I will be spending my summer with this advantage (and believe me, I’m going to use it). I went through a phase where I panicked and wanted to give it all up, but I went on just enough interviews to realize that it’s not what I want. I feel really good about myself. My good hair days are increasingly consistent. I’m glad that it’s warm enough to wear cute sundresses commando. All in all, things are peachy and this is me saying that I’m focusing on things in a way that refuses to make blogging a priority. Maybe that’ll change but I’m not really worried about it right now. I’m sure I’ll be back as soon as reality punches me in the vagina.
In the meantime, we can be Twitter and Facebook friends. Take a ride on my disco stick.
Is this thing even still on?
Where am I?
It took me 3 tries to remember my admin password and actually get in this hole.
Over the past 2 months I went through a pretty significant stint where I hated my job, which really translates to “hating my life.” I hated working from home, I hated not knowing when I’m getting paid, I hated having to discipline myself. I even went on a few interviews for jobs that would require me to go into an office and do things. HORRIBLE! I’m a jerk.
Thankfully over the past week or two I’ve snapped out of it. Maybe it’s because I have a few new job prospects that are sounding deliciously excellent, maybe it’s because things in my personal life that have been dragging me down are looking up and really bright, or maybe it’s because I finally started wearing jeans again (and enjoying it) although I have no idea how they got over this ass.
Regardless, I am content with things right now and excited for new beginnings, opportunities and risks I may be able to take over the next several months.
If this is any indication, I’ve been to the bar about 3 times since I last blogged. If that isn’t a sad sack of horrible things, I don’t know what is.
Oh, and I’m totally going to Bloggers in Sin City this Thursday. What does this mean for you? Absolutely nothing unless you’re JAG, Shine, Maxie, Mary or Lilu. I can already hear Backstreet Boys playing in my vodka-soda drowned ears.
See you on the other side, wherever the hell that is.
Right now it’s about 4:47 am, I’m sitting here wide awake eating dorito’s and wondering why in the world I’m awake now yet grogged around all day with zero motivation. Also with no desire to eat dorito’s.
Maybe I’m PMS’ing and getting overly hormonal and thought-provoking or maybe dorito’s mixed with acid reflux and the fact that I really have to pee right now but have no desire to get up give me some wicked inspiration, but I can’t stop feeling this wave of confidence as I take a look at the projects I’m currently working on and thinking “wow, maybe I am going somewhere.”
For awhile now I’ve been all over the phrase “leap before you look.” I want to get it tattooed on my arm really bad (hey Detroit tattooer’s – WILL PROMOTE THE SHIT OUT OF YOU FOR FREE INK) (ok maybe tattoos are a bad thing to ask for free) (however I’ll do it anyway) but I’m poor.
It’s a good phrase, no? I mean, some people might think leaping before looking is a horrible idea. Like if you’re about to dive into a giant tank to go swimming or snorkeling, you might want to look first to make sure it’s not full of sharks. If it is full of sharks and you insist on diving in anyway, you might want to look and make sure there is an easy escape plan before a shark decides to chew your bicep, calf and face off. In that order.
Also, if you’re going to eat an entire plate of spaghetti and follow it with doritos and then ice cream, you might want to look ahead at the potential consequences before drinking a cup of coffee and maybe add some Pepcid to that little diet you’ve created.
Also, if you’re going to wear a shirt that says “Victoria’s Secret Bombshell,” you might want to consider whether or not you look like a sexy, metaphoric “bombshell” by VS standards, as in a size 00 model, or a “bombshell” as in one that is going to explode out of that shirt. I’m just saying, when you’re wearing a shirt that was originally designed for a model on the “toothbrush down the throat” diet you might want to consider the mockery that will ensue when anyone (aka 90 percent of the US female population) decides to wear it.
Other than that I think it’s pretty beneficial. Thoughts? What am I thinking. It’s Friday. Of course you have no thoughts.
If you don’t want to think about that, answer me this: Is it pretentious and snotty to have a FAQ page? I kind of want one even if it’s just loaded with questions that have been asked one time by people who have already been reading me for the past year and already know the answers.
If you can think of something you want to ask me or think would be beneficial to have on my FAQ page, ask me. I may or may not answer it, I may or may not include it on the page, and I may or may not give you a legitimate answer that doesn’t involve sharks, dinosaurs or John Travolta. No promises.
The other day I posted my first ever blog post in an act of narcissism showing how much my blogging may or may not have changed since I created my corner of the interwebs.
It’s sort of weird how things work. One day you’re sitting on your couch with your boyfriend and say “I’m going to scrap this site I have where I rant about politics and celebrities and make one where I write about my life.” And he’s like “why do you wanna do that? What are you going to write about?” and I’m all “hell if I know, but damnit I’m going to do it because I like talking about myself and you’re sick of hearing it.” And then you create this blog and join a blog network and before you know it there are like 5 people reading you despite the fact that all you’re doing is writing about how you just moved in with your boyfriend and you guys are disgusting slobs and you’re broke and fat and life is hard and he won’t get a puppy.
Gradually more people start reading you, and before you know it you’re like “oh my Jesus, I’m starting to get famous.” And you start worrying about looking gnarly if people see you on the street and recognize you in public, then you remember you’re anonymous and no one from Detroit reads you anyway.
You kids have read through my breakup with said boyfriend, my admittance as to why I’m a horrible girlfriend to some men (and why I have no desire to change those qualities), my adventures during work travels, my short-lived obsessions with men just out of my reach, my theories on why mayonnaise will make you claustrophobic, and my transition into quite possibly the biggest career change of my life.
I can say with confidence that if it weren’t for this blog, I never would have took the plunge into a freelance writing career. I don’t know how to explain the logic behind that, but I can assure you that if you’re a fellow blogger you probably understand this. So thanks, guys. Now where’s my book deal? Oh, right. I need to write a book first. Sigh.
Blogging gave me the chance to meet Just A Girl, and if you read me you came to realize she’s become one of my best friends in the whole world. Blogging caused me to spontaneously buy a plane ticket and fly to DC to party with fellow bloggers I’d never met before, but “trust me Mom it’s totally fine. They’re just like my real-life friends, except, ya know, from the Internet.”
All that being said, if you’re still not convinced that blogging will change your life and allow you to meet some wicked amazing people and you still think it’s for failure writers and kids who abuse commas and run-on sentences, I’ll give you a list of all the bloggers I’ve had the chance of meeting in person at least once in this past year and that I really like.
Just A Girl, JP, Shine, LiLu, Maxie, Lexa, RachelSmiles, Cavy, Griffin, Dysfunction Junction, 12Minds, Alexa, Rachel, Suburban Sweetheart, francoBeans, Snay, Flipflops in the Rain, Mary, Patrick, and probably many others. If I forgot you, call me out.
That list doesn’t even include the beautiful Detroit ladies I recently had the chance of meeting. Rialeilani, Sillygrrl, Maeko, Laureality, JenRem, and SuperGirl, you chicks are badass and I can’t wait for us to have more meetups. Who knew there were so many girls in Detroit that are THIS FREAKING COOL? I can’t believe it either.
A lot has changed and happened in the past year, and I believe you kids are responsible for approximately 60-45% of it. You know, 85% of the time. If this next year isn’t bigger and better than the last one, I’m going to scrap this piece. Got it? Continue to impress me, or the blog gets it. Or just pay me to sit around and be a handsome billionaire and all will be well on the Ginger front.
Just kidding. I want to say thank you for helping me create an amazing year full of life changes and relationships I’ll undoubtedly never forget. Also, thank you for convincing me to take the plunge into this career technically called “writing” but consists more of “couching it out in the middle of the night in Hanes sweats and my ex boyfriends wifebeaters.”
Thank you. Thank you for your loyalty, your encouragement, your friendship, and the ability to snarf at my occasionally snarky sense of humor that my mother could never bring herself to love. For that, you’re all the cat’s pajamas in my eyes. I love you all.
