Soooo, this is it.
The new digs.
Infinitely less packing and tape than changing residences, but filled with it’s own set of worries and angst.
Will anyone still read?
Am I screwing myself up by quitting my already established blog for this shiny newness?
Does this blog make my butt look big?
ANGST, I tell you!
Trust me, I flip-flopped on this decision for months…why would you leave a blog that has a respectable readership, unflagging support and pretty much IS your identity?
H4P had its own built-in audience who deeply cared about Peyton’s treatment and wanted to know how she was doing.
I am taking the chance that those same people will totally lose interest with a change of venue.
And then? I realized that besides a new name and pretty new look, not a whole lot is going to change.
If only a move to Georgia or a switch of blog could alleviate my fears and anxiety for Peyton, I would do it a thousand times.
I still have the same three kids….who threaten each other with scabby band-aids and put the kitteh in dresser drawers.
I still have the same husband…who answers my detailed instructions with, “ok, let me get this straight, what I heard was ‘blah blah blah’.”
I am still the same person…with the same crooked sense of humor…total lack of filter and common sense….and slightly off-kilter love for all things Star Wars.
So, to alleviate any worries that I will suddenly start spouting words of wisdom or begin a vlogging series called “My Vagina and Me”…fret not, those things just aren’t my style.
It’ll just be me. Here. Doing my thing. Undefinable and uniquely mine.
I hope you’ll be here with me.
****************************
If you don’t want to miss out, make sure to grab my feed or have posts sent to your email.
****************************
Also? Announcing the launch of another blood-sweat-and-tears effort. Please to be checking out Aiming Low, a new blog for the people who are too lazy for those pesky high expectations that so many others seem to have. Yup, I’ve started my own gang…with any luck I’ll be able to talk them into matching jackets.
And here we are
Soooo, this is it.
The new digs.
Infinitely less packing and tape than changing residences, but filled with it’s own set of worries and angst.
Will anyone still read?
Am I screwing myself up by quitting my already established blog for this shiny newness?
Does this blog make my butt look big?
ANGST, I tell you!
Trust me, I flip-flopped on this decision for months…why would you leave a blog that has a respectable readership, unflagging support and pretty much IS your identity?
H4P had its own built-in audience who deeply cared about Peyton’s treatment and wanted to know how she was doing.
I am taking the chance that those same people will totally lose interest with a change of venue.
And then? I realized that besides a new name and pretty new look, not a whole lot is going to change.
If only a move to Georgia or a switch of blog could alleviate my fears and anxiety for Peyton, I would do it a thousand times.
I still have the same three kids….who threaten each other with scabby band-aids and put the kitteh in dresser drawers.
I still have the same husband…who answers my detailed instructions with, “ok, let me get this straight, what I heard was ‘blah blah blah’.”
I am still the same person…with the same crooked sense of humor…total lack of filter and common sense….and slightly off-kilter love for all things Star Wars.
So, to alleviate any worries that I will suddenly start spouting words of wisdom or begin a vlogging series called “My Vagina and Me”…fret not, those things just aren’t my style.
It’ll just be me. Here. Doing my thing. Undefinable and uniquely mine.
I hope you’ll be here with me.
****************************
If you don’t want to miss out, make sure to grab my feed or have posts sent to your email.
****************************
Also? Announcing the launch of another blood-sweat-and-tears effort. Please to be checking out Aiming Low, a new blog for the people who are too lazy for those pesky high expectations that so many others seem to have. Yup, I’ve started my own gang…with any luck I’ll be able to talk them into matching jackets.