501

I have been remiss in marking off milestones but I was determined to mark this one. (It was supposed to be for number 500 but as you see I kind of spaced that one.) The idea first entered my head around the time of my oral surgery. Ya know. I had all that vicodin-induced free time on my hands back then.

First of all, I must say thank you to Gloria. She is the person who got me started in the world of blogging. Without her, this blog would not exist.

I have never been big on marking anniversaries but somehow I thought that this one was worthy. Yes, this is my 501st post here.

When I first started blogging, I thought that it was a passing fancy that would quickly fade. Little did I know. Along the way I have met some wonderful people. But there's more to it than that.

In younger days, I wrote all the time. As well as writing in my journal, I wrote a great deal of fiction. And my fiction moved people. Probably because it was semi-autobiographical. I learned this in eighth grade. My mother read the stories that moved my teachers and classmates and recognized elements of myself in the characters. I learned that if I couldn't be emotionally open, then my fiction was crap.

For years, the stories just flowed. And then one day they dried up. I had the most extreme case of writer's block. This happened sometime in college because I remember Emerald telling me that I was a wonderful storyteller. I remember sitting at parties, slowly gaining an audience as I wove whatever tale struck my fancy that night. (OK. I'll admit it. The stories were usually the lesser known tales from Hans Christian Andersen. And I always told folks the source of the tale.) It was like magic to me. And then the magic ended.

Then Gloria mentioned blogging to me. I saw it as an opportunity to once more write. And to find myself.

When I started blogging, I had reached the conclusion that I had forgotten who I really was. I thought that it would be a way for me to find my way back there -- back to the person I used to know. The person who wasn't so busy trying to make everyone else happy. Because that's how my family makes me feel. That I shouldn't say anything unless it's pleasant. And over the last four years, that's how I felt at work. My job was to go in and to act through a role that wasn't necessarily me most of the time. I came to realize that I could not escape the family thing but I could make a choice about my job. I'm tired of pretending to be someone who I am not.

And finally there was a breakthrough. And yes, I realize that some did not enjoy the post but it felt really honest. So much so that I was afraid to post it because I was so used to being someone else. And so yes, now you know the truth. The supposedly hardened partygirl is rather sentimental. (And yes, the partygirl thing is yet another defense mechanism. I am naturally a painfully shy person.) For years I have told folks that a cynic is just a hopeless romantic who has been burned one time too many.

So I would like to say thank you to all of you who have come along with me on this journey. Of course, this journey is nowhere near the end, and so I hope that you will join me for the next 500 posts -- or more. Who knows where this will all lead.