I’ll be fingering the edges of a floor-length pink dress with the most magnificent detail, and i’ll try to think ahead of when and where I can wear it to – but most of the time, I have no place that special to go.
I’l touch it, and twirl it, and try it on while I drape $6.99 jewels from Forever21 on my flushed chest and then I’ll toss it back into my closest – shutting the door before anyone has a chance to see my “one day, eventually” outfit.
I’ve been writing this blog for 3 years now. THREE whole years. A lot could happen in 3 years. You could go from single to married or childless to family of two in that time. Or you can pour of your heart out into silly little blog posts that find their way onto the computer screens of strangers as far away as Bangledesh.
Over the past 3 years, some of you have wrote me the most delicate and intimate emails.
Telling me you know exactly what you want to do or who you want to be – but you don’t know how to get there. The thought of even starting is enough to make you throw your hands in the air and plop your butt back down on the couch and get all cozy with another 13 episodes of Orange is the New Black.
I didn’t have a full-time job (I was a magazine assistant editor, in Boca Raton, whose main job was scooping up dog pop), I was living back at home with my darling parents (In my childhood room that greeted me with a hoarder’s collection of Beanie Babies and Clay Aiken posters), and I didn’t know what the heck I wanted to do with my life (I still sometimes don’t).
But I knew one thing: writing made me forgot all of this.
When I wrote, I felt good – I felt this whimsical wave of pleasure and I knew I wanted to weave that feeling into my life, somehow.
So, three years ago, I came home from eating dinner with my 92-year-old Aunt – went to WordPresss.com – named my first blog post this and started writing. I had no: ultimate game plan – no understanding of how to make a blog successful – and was totally unsure if anyone would read it (and for awhile no one did..except you, mom!) But I did it. I stopped telling myself one day I’ll do it or maybe i’ll start tomorrow and I told the monsters of excuses like “I don’t know what to write” – or “Maybe i’ll wait till i have a better Idea” – to go stomp down on someone else’s dreams.
Or, you can wake up in the morning, rub the stubborn thick yellow crud out of your eyelid and ask yourself, “What the heck am I waiting for?” I’m writing this in my favorite gold sparkly dress, eating a white-chocolate Hershey kiss that I’ve been saving in my freezer, sending out pitch emails to websites that I desperately dream of writing for.
Plus, I’m always available via email: Jenglantz@gmail.com & I’d love YOU to say hello!