a thank you.

I was thinking about this lil bloggy and the night I thought of her name. I was bored, and at the time, working a job I HATED. {No, not you WS shugpies.}

I needed an outlet, and best of all, it was FREE!

I've always loved to talk, and loved to write. But, I never could keep up with journaling. Too much to write, and my hand would cramp. Then I'd be pissed because I wasted a really cool notebook or journal (once I decided its job was to be be my journal, I'd label it as such in some way, and write all inside the cover, rendering it useless for any other purpose). These are the times being "the creative type" and a perfectionist at the same time can be aggravating and wasteful.

I grew up and became a teacher, and to be honest, it killed me to force students into the mold of  "perfect English writing" {especially when there aren't hours in the day to properly teach grammar, but let's not go there}. I mean, in adult life, when and where are we expected to write a nice & tidy 5 paragraph essay? Gimme a break. Whatevs.

When I was in high school, my friends and I would make collages for each other on a regular basis - at least once a week. They were our little masterpieces, torn from the pages of any and everything - from Cosmo to the label off some BBQ sauce to a grocery store sales paper. Loaded up with our little inside jokes that were oh so hilarious and other people would see them and wonder what the hell was wrong with us. Glued or taped down with care, maybe some glitter, and then a final coating of clear packaging tape to make it last.

Then, I got married. {I'm making a point with my writing/visual expression needs list here, I promise.} I decided I should make a whoppin scrapbook of EVERYTHANNNNNNNNG. I mean, everything. Every invitation to every engagement party, every shower, rehearsal dinner, the wedding, the honeymoon. All the pictures. All the wrapping and bows. All the receipts. The corona case from Puerto Rico. {Another example of where creativity and perfectionism together feel exhausting and if I can't get it perfect, I just abandon it, and put it in a huge purple tupperware container, throw a vintage tablecloth over it because there's nowhere else to fit it, and move on with my life.}

So ------- the blog. It fulfills all my needs. I can write. {Mostly freely. And this here bloggage gets more and more free everyday because shit gets on my nerves pretty regularly and I sometimes feel an overwhelming urge to go against "the norm" because most people don't even like the norm. They just do shit because they are in a rut and jump on bandwagons - political, how to raise your kids, where to work, why we work, what to eat, how much you should weigh, what to watch on tv, etc, etc, etc.} Barftasma.

Usually, I write because this blog is a creative outlet that I have to have in order to feel normal and like I can function everyday. Kind of like caffeine. I swear, without caffeine, I feel depressed and I don't want to blog or do photography or leave the house. Hell, I don't even wanna go junkin, and that is NOT normal for me. Also on the bloggy is sort of a virtual scrapbook. It's all in one little place on a URL on the web and I don't have to store all the leftover shit in a giant purple tupperware.

Sometimes, I write because something is on my heart and I need it to be out there and off my chest. Or maybe I'm pissed and it just needs to be said. Even if no one reads it.

Sometimes, I write because I need to say thank you - to God, to my family, to the world.

After the blog was around for a bit, I realized people were actually reading it. Most of you dear readers aren't "followers". It's a weird thing, for people to read what you write and then tell you so. It's hard not to write for your readers. It's hard not to worry about offending someone. Or maybe they won't think it's funny, or get where you're coming from. But, the bottom line is, you have to be true to yourself. There's only one you. And if you try to be somebody else, you'll do a shitty job anyway.

So,

Thank you all very much

Thanks for still reading even when I bitch, 

or talk crap about Carolina {go Pack!},

 even when I talk about how the south is the best place on earth to live {because it is},

even when I'm not Susie Sunshine. 

Sometimes, shit is real, and it needs to be said.

And, I figure, at least this is my blog where people can choose not to read it, unlike Facebook, where people post shit and you have to see it in your news feed and then you end up unsubscribin from their ass.

All of your comments, those of you who follow, those of you who tell me that you love reading when I see you in person, YOU MAKE MY WORLD. 

I hope to always write because I enjoy it. But, knowing somebody else enjoys it too feels awesome and makes me wanna keep on gettin ma blog on.

I love y'all! 

* all images, thanks to ma pinterest