Happy Friday to my tens of readers!
Today’s blog will be short but sweet as I am wrapping up two chapters of How to Get Divorced Without Losing Your Kids, Your Money and Your Mind: a Holistic and Practical Guide to Marital Dissolution and Family Reorganization.
Unfortunately my managers took me quite seriously when I promised said chapters by May 1.
Much like last week, I’m skipping Friday Feedback in lieu of positivity. The surly, sardonic, sarcastic and grumpy bitch you know and love will be back on Monday.
This project has been in the making for almost two years. Two years! Honestly I can’t believe it’s been that long. Since that time I have:
- Posted over 400 blogs, averaging too many words but which when totaled would equal 10 books (average American novel = 64,000 words)
- Written thousands more in communications back and forth with letter writers
- Written over half of an actual book. A book!
- Been on the radio numerous times and discovered my true passion
- Developed 2 additional book ideas which I can’t discuss because they are freakin’ genius and I don’t want you people trying to steal them from me
- Written an advice column for a local media outlet
- Quit writing an advice column for said local media outlet due to journalistic ethical issues (as in: they didn’t have any) and pride in my content v. embarrassment in theirs
- Gathered a following that extends not only all around the US and Canada, but also such far-flung places as Qatar and Ireland! Whoop whoop!
- Garnered some death threats (mostly from this: Reckless Cyclists)
- Fielded dozens of hate emails, usually anonymous
- Received hundreds of thank you and “you rock” emails from happy readers and advice-seekers
- Been selected to be a regular contributor to tennis star Venus Williams’ blog located here: Eleven by Venus!
- Been asked to be Venus’ hitting partner*
Not included in that list is the most important thing that has happened to me since September, 2013 when I decided to stop running on a treadmill to nowhere and hit life’s real road:
I found myself.
Ugh, that sounds so fucking trite. I’m cringing over here because writing those words makes me feel like a self-absorbed asshole who spends too much time poking around in her bellybutton in search of the meaning of life.
I’m stronger than I’ve ever been, emotionally and physically.
I’m happier than I’ve ever been.
I’m sharper than I’ve ever been.
And I’ve never put in anywhere near the work on any other job in my life, loving every moment.
So perhaps that’s how I ended up here yesterday:
Where is “here,” you ask?
This was my second shot on Hole #2 at Portland Golf Club yesterday. Hole #2, also known as “Long John,” is 406 yards from the Bitch Tees and a par 5 for us vagina-havers. It’s a tough hole, and I came damn close to getting a birdie but settled for a par.
It wasn’t just #2, though. Something happened to me last week, and suddenly it’s as if I finally get golf. I finally have the confidence to strike that ball down the middle of the fairway and laugh at myself when I don’t.
I finally get me.
Do you have a dream? Make it happen.
Is your life not what you want it to be? Take some personal responsibility for yourself and figure out where you want to go and how to get there.
Sorry for the corny crap but damn it: life is so fucking great sometimes, isn’t it?
Have a great weekend and Happy Mother’s Day!
*not true, except in my fantasy world