the point. the purpose.

what is the point and the purpose of this blog? i’m writing it so YOU (whoever that may be) can get to know more about me.  so i have a forum to rant and rave about whatever strikes my fancy. to wax poetically about life lessons. or rather, to wax on and wax off. to work on my writing and develop my writing habits. (both clearly need a lot of work). to practice putting myself out there. to give myself a deadline to stick to (one post a week). to pass along tidbits of news or articles that i found funny, illuminating, ridiculous, or smart. to be a little self indulgent. to work through the self-doubt that comes with being a writer or really, doing anything creative. to get to know myself. to document my process from semi-adulthood to FULL adulthood (and i’m hoping that’ll actually happen). to figure out what post will get the most views. to join the 21st century. to give my long distance family and friends another way to know me (and they can read this on their own time).

i also HOPE that someday, once/when/IF my writing career takes off, i’ll be able to turn my blog into one of those “i’m a published writer, let’s talk about what works for me”. or a “this is how i felt when i signed with my agent”. i love those blogs. seriously. i’ve come across so many good ones. like this one. or this one. or this one and this one’s great. this one is very educational. as is this one. i have blog envy of this one because even though i’m not a mom nor am i married, her words are gorgeous and i treasure each word as if it was a hershey’s kiss slowly melting in my mouth.

but what i’d REALLY like is this: since i’m introducing myself to you every post, i’d like YOU to do the same. who are my readers? who are YOU? write a little something about yourself in the comments so i can get to know YOU as well as you know ME. even if YOU tell me in passing conversation when YOU see me that you read it all the time. or even if you’re related to me. i want YOU to comment. kthxbai.


yup, me too

i couldn’t have said it better myself. not even if i tried really really hard and wrote through 5 drafts, so i’ll just copy and paste what kristen wrote:


from The Grateful Project by kmunsey

I am grateful for …

Ideas you hurriedly sketch on the back of Post It notes at work that have nothing to do with work and everything to do with the rest of your life. Ideas you take home and stick to your wall so you don’t forget.


musical notes

some nights take you by surprise. they tap your left shoulder and come ’round the right. they jump out from behind the door. they take your expectations and throw them on a roller coaster – spinning and speeding and swirling until you’re not entirely sure which end is up.

thursday night was one of those nights.

my expectations were these: i was there to support Z in yet one another of his musical incantations (he was conduting a high school concert), but it was a high school concert nevertheless, there’d be some music and uncomfortable chairs.

the reality was this: walking into a high school after hours feels slightly forbidden and wrong, even if you’re no longer in high school and haven’t ever take any classes in this particular building. i sounded like a teacher walking down the hall in my (straight from work) high heels. there were 5 people in the audience i knew, none on stage (except Z). 2 of those 5 were visiting from australia, which is the original reason i decided to go. i was ready to cheer for Z as he conducted one of the nine songs of the night.

the kids, all in matching white shirts and black pants/skirts, filed onto the stage. they giggled and whispered and set up their music. the awkwardness was palpable. i said a quick “thank you” for no longer being that age. i got out my pen to take notes on said awkwardness because i am, after all, working on a story about middle schoolers – prime awkward age. the conductor raiser her arms, the students raised their instruments and i wondered again how i came to be here.

all at once, the violins began to make music and i stopped wondering about life and took a deep breath. the music filled the room. everything was in unison – their clothes, their elbows, their arms, their fingers, their tapping toes, their backs straight, sitting at the edge of their seats. but it was the transformation from bumbling teenager to accomplished musician that was so astonishing. they were in charge of the room. they were leading us. they were showing us their talents. they knew, without question, what they were doing.

i thought i was there to watch (one of) the conductor(s), but it was the kids who captured my attention.

the music caught me off guard. it was gorgeous, both auditorally and visually. i was reminded just how different live music can be. the crisp sound. the way the arm moves. the focus on their faces. the delicate placement of the fingers. i may be tone deaf, but i know those kids are talented and it was impressive. they were no longer awkward, but confident. no longer giggling, but serious. no longer young, but old.

i found myself sitting at the edge of my seat. trying to get closer to the music. trying to touch their talent. trying to learn how to look like an adult when you’re not quite there yet yourself.