My name is Jennifer. I am forty-eight years old, and still very much in love with my husband of 29 years. I am a Mom (daughter - 29 and son - 23) (and now, as of 2010, a son-in-law!) working toward edging ever closer to the empty nest stage of life. I used to make my living in the world of words and corporate marketing. Now, in a nod toward slowing down to smell the musty pages, I make my living in another world of words, as manager/book buyer/event coordinator for a locally owned independent bookstore. I am a sports fanatic and a music lover. I like to create, to travel, to read, to write, to listen, to party, to play, to learn, to rest, to laugh, to love.
I live, to the fullest extent of my abilities.
I discovered the world of blogging in February of 2004 and have been addicted ever since. I've met the most amazing people through this little hobby of mine. The entire journey has proven more rewarding, more time consuming, more thought provoking, more immensely pleasurable than I ever dreamed it would.
I had my first blog for a little over a year before I had to abandon it and move. That day ranks among the hardest in recent memory, and that's no exaggeration. Open Book is a new space, feeling a little more like home every day. Especially since so many of my 'friends' - old and new - moved right along with me.
To be honest, I have no idea why you good people come by here, although I'm grateful, and humbled, and thrilled that you do. The interactivity is something that took me a bit by surprise. That someone would see fit to respond to the daily dumpings here; that I would come to relish the feedback. So, again, I've no idea why. But I thank you, just the same.
In the scheme of things, this blog, this journal, means exactly nothing to anyone.
But this place means exactly a little bit of everything to me. It has become a found thread, woven tightly into the fabric of my life, capturing the texture of the tapestry of it all. A place I've become dependent on, for its reflective qualities, for its willingness to absorb the contents of my head and, therefore, set them free.
I wrote this about my blog shortly after I started it:
"Even when I think I have nothing to say, I come here and it pours out of me in an uncontrollable wave of words, a stream of consciousness that won't be dammed. I pull up the blank 'create new post' page and rather than be intimidated by the vast white emptiness, I'm driven to fill it full, emptying the dizzying contents of my head into some semblance of rational commentary on the page. And I wonder why?
I think it's this. That I can be myself here, truly, without reserve, and have conversations with myself that I wouldn't necessarily have with anyone who knows me. Because they are introspective conversations, meant to be one-sided. Because they seem egotistical, almost selfish, in being about ME. Because the words would come out decidedly different if I tried to verbalize them to another human being, rather than pour them on the written page.
So, why then, do I post these written words here, for all the world to see, when I have no intention ever, or at least until I'm dead and gone, of sharing them with those who love me? I think it's this. That I have a need to share the words with someone, without judgment or repercussion. That I seek out validation, or comment, or rebuttal, of the things I think and feel, from minds who have no stake in it.
...That's part of the point of having this a public place. So, I don't mind, so much, as it invites new minds to enter here, read a bit and leave a thought, feedback or the occasional email. This in turn makes me think, or re-think, and fuels me to go on with this exercise in figuring out just who I am and where I fit in the scheme of things.
I like to believe when I'm taking my daily stroll through the lives of the bloggers I've come to know (and adore) that I'm seeing them as they see themselves. Most probably in a way that few of the "real" people who know them can. I like to believe I'm learning what makes them individuals, what separates them as selves, and yet, at the same time, what links us all together.
I guess I hope I'm learning the same things about my own self, and sharing it, too, as I go. And that's what draws me to this place."
Every word of that old post holds as true for me today as it did then. As long as that remains the case, I'll continue to put myself out there, in here. And my heart will be happy if you're here to share it with me.
But the reality is, I'll still be doing it for an audience of one.
