Archive of ‘Chasing Happiness’ category

It’s a New Year (Thank Goodness).

2016 unicorn

The last few years have been, well they’ve been something.

In 2013, I was all, “Look at me! I can work fulltime and freelance and be a good mom and WRITE A BOOK IN FIVE DAMN DAYS!”

In 2014, I was like, “Five days, huh? Well I can work fulltime and freelance fulltime and rewrite that first book twice and hey, write ANOTHER book (although the first draft took me a month that time) and stillbeagoodmomandwifewellokaymaybenotbutlookatmeimpublished!”

Then 2015 arrived, along with all the tools it needed to thoroughly kick my ass. Which is exactly what it did.

But, Internet, you know me. I’m nothing if not stubborn. So every time 2015 knocked me down, I got back up and kept moving as fast as I could.

In fact, it wasn’t until November, when I was downing 4000 milligrams of antibiotics a day to get rid of an ulcer and feeling like a raggedy stray cat on its last life, that I realized I was just being dumb.

I’m lucky. I’m smart, talented, and can do ALL THE THINGS. But I am not a superhero or an X-Men-type mutant (although I do have a pair of Wonder Woman socks, complete with capes).

And that means I can’t do all the things, all the time, and expect to stay healthy and sane (or do anything particularly well).

Most of you are probably going, “well, duh.”

And you’re right. It is pretty obvious—at least in retrospect. But I’ve always had to learn things the hard way. Plus, I’ve never been good at accepting limitations.

But now it’s 2016! And I’ve learned my lesson! Which means this year is going to be full of glittery rainbows and sparkly unicorns and fuzzy kittens and delicious cupcakes and, and, and… (okay, I think I just threw up in my mouth a little).

It’s going to be a good year. An awesome year. The kind of year that has me wishing for another one exactly like it when I blow out my birthday candles.

Or at least, that’s what I’m hoping. Fingers and toes crossed.

Happy New Year, everyone. May the force be with us all.




For the Love of Blogging.

glowing crystal ball on pink background

I tried to quit this place. Really, I tried.

I didn’t want to blog anymore.  I was tired of the constant pressure to get more page views, write more sponsored posts, and MAKE ALL THE MONEY.

Because let’s face it. This blog? It ain’t never going to make no cash money. I’m just not that kind of blogger.

But it turns out, I can’t quit. When I do, the words all scramble up in my brain, twisting things around, and keeping all the other words from getting out. Which is bad (especially when you make your living writing and you know, hope to publish more romance novels).

I’ve been writing myself posts in Evernote. Subjecting my poor Facebook friends to unnecessarily long rambles. And having really weird dreams.

All of which I was willing to accept. Until, that is, I went to my grandma’s funeral last week.

During the service, the chaplain took us through her life story. He told us how she met my grandfather, what she did for a living, and what she did to keep busy while raising my mom and uncle.

A lot of it was stuff I’d never heard before. Some of it was, according to my mom, not entirely true (she’s not sure when my grandma and grandpa started dating). And all of it made me sad.

How much more was there to my grandma’s life that I would never know about? What was it like living as a young married woman alone during World War II? What did she wish she could do? What was she glad she had done? Did she want to be a fashion designer like my daughter does?

I’ll never know the answers to those questions.

But my daughter (and her children) will know a heck of a lot about me.  She’ll know how I felt when she was born. What my frustrations were while she was small. How very much I love her and how glad I am that she is a part of my world. And how ridiculously stupid I get when I’m tired (or drunk).

And I’ll always have a window back to years past. When I’m 65, I’ll be able to picture those first weeks at home alone with her. I’ll remember how frustrating being a working mom could be. And why it was all worthwhile.

I want those memories to be there for my family to read. For me to remember. And for strangers to giggle over.

Why? Because I have a lot to say, and I am nowhere near as eloquent when forced to speak. Such is the life of an introverted attention whore.

And because I really do love my life, and I want the world to know that even amongst the evils of terrorist attacks, Donald Trump,  and global warming, happiness was not just a possibility, but a reality for most of us.

Here’s hoping it will continue to be for as far as I can see (and write) into the future.




The End?

two bear cubs sleeping

Once upon a time, this blog was as necessary to my existence as air.

As a new mother, it was my link to the outside my world. It provided reassurance that I wasn’t crazy. It was a place where I could laugh, scream, or cry, and know that someone (lots of someones) heard me and understood.

As an uprooted introvert, it provided me with the community I was missing in my new home. Friends were only a blink of the cursor away, and I could (and still do) reach out at any time, day or night.

As a professional copy nerd, it was my passport to career stability. It taught me a host of new skills and ensured I was ahead of my peers in the fields of social media and SEO. When people around me were dropping like flies, I hung on to my job—in part because of what I learned in this space.

As a generally insecure human being, it provided me with the confidence I needed to feel good about myself. It provided proof that I was smart, valuable, and had mad writing skillz. Even if I was sleep-deprived and anxiety-ridden.

This blog helped me develop my voice. It helped me figure out who I am, and who I want to be.

It gave me the courage to submit a proposal to the BlogHer conference (and to actually go speak when they called).

It gave me the confidence to submit an essay to the Listen To Your Mother Show (and to actually read it. On stage.).

It gave me the chutzpah to submit a chapter of a romance novel to Harlequin (but, unfortunately, it didn’t help me write the damn book when they liked it).

This blog was, and continues to be, extremely important to me. But because of the opportunities it has helped me make for myself, I don’t have much time for it these days.

And I sure can’t be bothered to play the review this/make a video of that/tweak that other thing for SEO game I need to play to be “successful” right now.

So is it dead?

Nah. Something tells me I’m not done here yet.

It’s merely hibernating for a while.

Photo Credit: BeingMyself, Flickr

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