A few of my friends have been reading Anne of Green Gables lately--which is one of my all-time favorite series, by the way--and so I've been in "Anne" mode just a little bit. Everything around me in nature seems just a hint more lovely and magical. I want to tack the words, "dear", "lithe", "sweet", & "willowy" onto all my descriptions from bare tree limbs to young girls. The view from my living room window at sunrise (which I saw before the time change, not anymore) sent me into "absolute raptures". I use italics waaaay too much. I got itchy feet to go traipse around the countryside gathering ferns and golden leaves for my own little house of dreams. But, like my best friend told me years ago when I was on another such "Anne" kick, "Jenna, you're not Anne."
And, sigh, she was right. And sometimes I think it's so hard being me. NOT that it's actually hard to be me, I mean, I don't even have a job. And I'm perfectly healthy, my husband sweet, my family's wonderful, we don't lack for anything. No, what I mean is, it's hard being… Me. Because sometimes I'm not sure who "me" really is, and who is the one trying to be like someone else, no matter how beautiful their descriptions of cherry trees are. Savvy?
I try to be myself on this blog. (Whoever that is…) I think most of the time I am, if a little edited and bland. And for aesthetic and personal reasons, I don't always share the nitty-gritty of everything (trust me, you wouldn't want to know.) But I hope I'm real. I hope I'm genuine. I hope you don't think I'm nicer\smarter\better\glamorouser than I am. And grrr, if this sentiment isn't something cropping up on blogs all over the country, but I mean it!
And they say you look like me .,,,,, I think I'm insulted!!!
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