Once upon a time I was a blogger.
Probably you don’t remember because at the time I was pretty secretive about it, with a pseudonym and everything, back in the early 2000s, when the Internet was new, before Facebook shares boosted something called “SEO”, before the iPhone, before the MacBook Pro, before Intagram was a twinkle in its Millennial daddy’s eye — that’s when I was blogging.
I wasn’t Julie Powell or anything, but I had a pretty fair following, with regular readers and commenters. Why, once a crazy fan inexplicably tracked me down on MySpace (when MySpace was basically FaceBook, without the videos and “hard hitting interviews”) — don’t worry, she became a treasured friend because, while she is crazy, so am I. (AmI’righ, Lisa?)
Yes, I was destined to be A Writer. I had the fancy degree in English and psychology, a completed ProbablyTheNextBestLiteraryNovel all printed out and awaiting publication, and a few minor (soon to be BIG) accolades to my name. I was hot stuff. *cough*
And then in 2009, my dad died. And after a series of very raw blog posts circling the drain of an ever-growing sense that I was drowning in grief, my words too naked, too vulnerable, too everything that hurt — I decided I couldn’t write any more.
So I stopped.
I tried a few times to get back into the groove, but my “voice” hasn’t been quite the same. In losing my father, I lost something else, misplacing that brazen girl of the early 2000s who didn’t mind edgy frankness, didn’t care who got hurt when an opinion “needed” sharing, didn’t think twice about “telling it like it was”. She was replaced with a marginally older (and wiser) hesitance, a care-full intention, completely aware of humanity and its fragility. I think that girl who died, when my dad died, her death was very likely a good thing, a beautiful thing that came crawling out of catastrophe. I like to believe I’m now a kinder, gentler version of myself, and a woman I rather like (most days), scars and all.
That woman has grown some. That woman has raised babies into teenagers. That woman has traveled some, seen some, tasted and explored some.
And now, she has — I have the opportunity to begin again, blogging about Something near and dear to so many of us:
While my new blog won’t dig very deep into the recesses of my soul (probably) or discuss monumental spiritual matters (maybe), nor will it come off (I hope) as blatantly sarcastic (usually …. ) — it will give you every juicy detail (as seen through my eyes) about every nook and cranny I find myself wedged into. From Florida’s Walt Disney World to California’s Yosemite National Park, from the squares of Savannah Georgia to the chasm of Grand Canyon Arizona, from here, there, and everywhere in-between — not just the trendy surface, but scratching beneath the tourist’y layers to find rare gems and precious un-seens. Standing on every Main Street, sandy beach, and grassy field, I’m on a mission to uncover — and share! — it all. Camera in one hand, fancy iPhone map app in the other (’cause I’m super high-tech now), I plan to break in my walking shoes and take you along for each adventurous leg of the journey.
Are you ready?
Good. Let’s go.