weird to think i am working on my one hundredth post on this aimless little internet corner.

one of my very favorite coworkers is leaving. her sister and niece and nephew moved to florida several years ago, and it was inevitable that she would leave in their wake – they are all so very connected (the subject of probably another post). today we shared our favorite memories of her (mine involved tequila and dropping it like it’s hot, because i am classy, and extremely professional). she, in turn, went around and talked about each of us.

she said i am a ball of fire.

i appreciate this. i’m ok with it, by now. i used to be intensely jealous that i was not this serene, straight-haired, placid, quiet thing. don’t ask about the straight hair, it just always makes sense to me, with that image. but that is not what i am so there is no real point in trying to be it, or being envious. there’s no real point to envy, ever, i suppose.

she said she knows i question my path sometimes, and i am too hard on myself – and that i should not do either of those things, because i am a wonderful person. that was extraordinarily kind and means a lot, coming from someone i admire and respect as much as i do her.

i wish i could adequately explain what it means to live this life. that’s what all of us are trying to do here in this internet world of life-sharing, as strange and oddly comforting (and discomforting) as it can be. whether you are providing snippets or the whole shebang, you are building an image. if i were in marketing, i might call it your personal brand – but thank god, i am not. i do not fancy myself talented enough to paint you a real picture. but rest assured, what i give you is the truth in my lens.

i do not feel like a ball of fire – more often than not, i feel like an ember. mostly ash. i flounder, and i don’t do it with style or grace. i don’t, to be very honest, do much with style or grace. i have my own flair to things – hardly a soul would call it stylish, or graceful.

i’m writing more because i am swallowing a deep breath full of the idea that you might not like me. you might find me trite or silly – two things i am rather afraid of being. you might roll your eyes at what i have to say – i’ve certainly done it to things i come across. i’m wrapping my mind around the idea that i will be judged, that it might not be pretty. this will happen.

i am steeling myself not to care.

i am freeing myself from a need to please.

write as if no one is reading.