in blogging, it’s so easy to portray this perfect life of baking cookies, making friendship bracelets, having super stylish outfits and sexy date nights. problems may arise, fewer than frequent but are easily photoshopped away. because who wants to read the ranting of some pathetically desperate housewife. bitching about their disobedient kids, distracted husbands, disarrayed house. but I do. it makes me feel normal. and apparently quite a few others do too. when I talk about my crazy, deluded or messy adventures, it seems to connect better than any recipe for the best chocolate cookie every could. a few close confidents have told me thats my niche…keeping it raw, real. obviously in an interesting and humorous way. by no means am I any sort of expert. I am completely lost and just trying to find my way home. but to a new home….beautiful, bright, uncluttered and free of all the demons I promise to leave behind. I just don’t know how to find it. yet, somehow I’m good at helping other people in ways I dream of for myself. friends, family, strangers off the street (literally, I have an invisible ‘doctors in’ tattoo on my forehead that all seem to find me…even an 83 year old psychologist comes to me for a weekly esteem boost.)
as my best friend eric will verify, I am always declaring that I’m on the ‘edge’. and this quote couldn’t be more fitting. sometimes it feels like a slipknot around my neck. but I’m still here, waking up everyday, trying to make life pretty. the end of most days lately seem to turn to shit, but I have a glass of wine (or two) and start over again and again and again. there will still be fare of family, fashion, food and fun. but I want to share more on struggles and maybe others with similar stories… probably in an alias format lol. at 38 years old, Im a wife, a mother, a makeup artist but still a girl that has yet to figure out exactly what I want to be when I grow up. maybe this is a start.