(Disclaimer there will be foul language in this one – sorry Mum)
Writing the blog earlier today, as I have to go to work this afternoon.
I had a beautiful morning making kokedama, (it’s a plant wrapped in sphagnum moss and string) at a morning tea held for a friends birthday.
Funny story- This said friend, she is one of the Wednesday coffee, school mums. We have had some great conversations, have shared barbecue dinners at a mutual friends place (my bestie), and I have seen her around the school for years. ANYWAY, my school is having a school reunion, I was looking at the Facebook group one day and this comment pops up from my friend. I was like what? How is she in the group? I immediately clicked on her name and stalked her Facebook account and what do you know, it was my friend from Wednesday coffee. I sent her a private message, pretty much saying what the fuck. I didn’t use the “f” word, because she is so divine and doesn’t cuss like a sailor, like I am known to do. And she has 4 blonde haired little angels that don’t hear that word, and I try to be very conscious around not to swear near them. After a long conversation, we discovered we did in fact go to school together but never knew each other. So that is our own special friendship story. It was her birthday during the week and this awesome house wife and incredible mother to 4, who has a degree, a heart of gold and the most amazing baking skills, celebrated her birthday with friends and family. And in her true style gave us a gift to take home, even though it was her birthday.
The feature photo is me a complete tired, emotional, raw mess this morning – I wasn’t going to take this photo, because it is so hideous (with tears and I think there is snot hanging off the end of my nose). But, this was the relief that I felt when I read the comment that Peta’s mum left on the blog post. I posted another #mesistertribe feature last night on my friend Peta Hughes. As I read her mum’s comment, the thought that automatically popped into my head was, thank god I didn’t fuck it up and that she recognisers her daughter in my writing.
I am in a real love /hate relationship with these features. I love interviewing and chatting to the women that I feature. The writing for me is stressful and I agonise over it, as I am fearful that I won’t do the story justice. Then I post the feature and I literally, am in bed all Friday night, tossing and turning and thinking about sentences and changing words and my shocking grammar. This whole process is fucking with my head. The 100 day writing challenge is making me feel completely splayed open and raw, and the selfies every day make me nervous. It is definitely, helping me deal with some of my insecurities and I feel like I am changing for the better, but sweet Jesus. My heart and mind is a mess.
I was so naive going into this I thought that I would be able to just write and post these entries and I may get some likes or comments but, I never thought that I would get the interest, the likes, comments and increase in followers that I have received. This week with the blog it has completely pushed all of my fearful buttons.
End of day 22
I actually made something crafty this morning and it looks good – not Pinterest good but still good. (craft is not my thing – but I had a hoot this morning)
I need to stop writing and get ready for work.