I love you period.
Do you love me question mark?
Please please exclamation point!
(I wanna hold you in parentheses)
I've had that frickin' song going through my head for a week now.
Last week, Liz from This Full House honored me with a Perfect Post award. "I'm not worthy" doesn't begin to describe how I feel about that. When I read her email to me and then her post about my post (Qwillerage: Waves), I cried. I felt like I could climb Mount Everest, I felt popular, I felt like Super Woman.
Perhaps it was that huge ego boost that prompted me to email this guy about an email I had written him expressing interest in being a part of something. How's that for a coherent sentence? Sorry. The point is, I put myself out there. I expanded my horizons. I cracked my shell open a bit. I poked a toe out of my comfort zone.
I've agreed to be on the editorial board of Citizen Wausau, a local website/blog that melds together the concepts of a town hall meeting, a grassroots rally and some good, old-fashioned joe-on-the-street journalism. I'll be doing some proofreading and some *gasp* writing. Holy crap.
Tonight was the first meeting of the brand-spankin' new board. It was fun. Kind of like a crazy volley of very sarcastic, funny people with an overlay of actual, productive discussion. I was nervous as all hell, but I survived, and I contributed to the discussion.The thing is, it's a good fit for me. I have some spare time, I'm online almost all day long, I was a proofreader for 4 years, I completed a major in journalism, and I am very fond of the community where I live.
Leading up to the meeting, I felt intimidated and scared of everything about it -- meeting new people, claiming to know how to write, actually committing to something that would take my time away from my kids. After the meeting, I don't exactly feel like Super Woman, but I definitely feel intrigued and hopeful about the whole idea.
At the very least, I had an excuse to take a shower and put on very little makeup (see pic above). When I look at the picture, however, all I see is the disproportionate size of my breasts. Thanks, Anna, for preferring my right one and totally ruining my awesome lady-ness, or at least distracting from the perfection that is my shrinking body. Seriously, it's at least a cup and a half bigger.
