Hi. I’m this blog. I’m 8 years old today. Here is my life story so far.
I was born a poor, blogspot template and I was originally known as WeeblesWobblog. My midwives hailed from the ALI community (Adoption / Loss/ Infertility), prompting my birth and nourishing me in my early days (and now).
Within a couple of years, I grew bigger and caught the attention of a certain toy company. It sent my creator a cease and desist order which led to a name change for me. My person had already chosen her Appellation Trail name, Lavender Luz, which ultimately became my name, too, through a second and final name change.
Over the years I got to go tosomeconferences that were set up just for blogs like me, and my person got to know the people behind so many other fantastic blogs. We all had a grand old time figuring out how to grow and morph and monetize (or not) and connect, and most of all, to own and enjoy our space.
When I was almost 5, I found out I was going to have a younger sibling. Not a brother, not a sister, not even another blog, but a book!
Which is not news. I tend to have a glass of wine each evening. It’s as much a treasured daily ritual as my morning cup of coffee is.
The news is who I drank wine with (or maybe the shorter list would be who I didn’t drink wine with). In October, I got to drink wine with far-flung friends in Seattle, Portland, Eugene, San Francisco, and right here at home.
I was a girl who struggled with friendships back when I was my daughter’s age. I was shy, bookish, and I played in the band (not a cool kind of band but a 5th grade concert band — think Target commercial cacophony). I liked getting grounded on the rare occasions I misbehaved because it meant that instead of playing outside with other kids, I could be inside reading the “L” edition of the World Book encyclopedia (it was a relatively skinny one, unlike the massive “M”).
But you know that line from The Sound of Music, in which Maria and the Captain sing to each other in the gazebo? They mention their wicked, miserable pasts but conclude that
Somewhere in my youth or childhood | I must have done something good.
Somehow in the intervening years I have become rich in friends. I mean really, really great people kinda friends. Folks who are good-hearted, smart as whips, and generous in so many ways.
Close friends contribute to our personal growth. They also contribute to our personal pleasure, making the music sound sweeter, the wine taste richer, the laughter ring louder because they are there. — Judith Viorst
I thought something was up several weeks ago when my husband, Roger, said to me, “I want you to do something to make you feel good about yourself. Why don’t you make a list of all of your friends?”
So I did and I showed it to him. See? I have friends in the computer and friends not in the computer and friends who exist in both places.
Then my sneaky husband colluded with my sneaky sister, my sneaky mom and a sneaky friend to throw me a sneaky surprise party.
Roger and I had just finished having a romantic dinner downtown and were discussion our after-dinner options. We’d decided on going home to watch a movie on demand. On the way to the car, Roger casually asked if I wanted to step into the dueling piano bar that was straight ahead, just past our car. I shrugged and said, “Sure,”* thinking I’d love to sing a little song, dance a little dance and drink a little drink before we turned in for the night.
When we walked into the door of the venue, I saw a slew of familiar faces. People from my family (Mom and Dad in a bar I was too old for!). My entire Vino Support Group. My local blogging friends, an ALI blogging friend. A friend from a job long past, a yoga friend, a friend from my meditation class. It was like basking in 360 degrees (arc, not heat) of love, accompanied by music from all my decades. All my worlds colliding in such a celebratory way
As you can see, I thoroughly enjoyed myself.
Even though this isn’t a perfect moment post (those will go up on December 31 — get yours ready), I had so many perfect moments that night and into the next day as I daydreamed about My Special Night.
I can’t wait ’til the next milestone.
But I will.
* What would have happened if I’d said, “Nah…I’m tired”?