Happy Birthday Blog

Four years and two days ago, I started the Sand Palace. I came over here to blog in "anonymity" after the debacle that was my first blog. (Quick back story: I was angry and bitter and the internet seemed like SUCH a nice place to vent. People responded! And they were nice! Except that I sort of forgot how many people read that damn thing and then it all went to hell. I got e-mails and anonymous comments (OF COURSE THEY WERE ANONYMOUS) from people saying they were praying for me because of that blog and they weren't those positive, "Let me lift you up, my sister" kind of messages. More of the, "You're such a screw up, only God can help you now" kind. Which, why did no one ever say, "Child, you need a therapist but quick?" I look back and it is so obvious how insanely depressed I was back then and how it escaped the notice of so very many people watching me, I do not know. (I am going to stop typing about this now because this is no longer a quick back story, but a deep dive into the analysis of my past.) Anyways, I posted some, ahem, colorful entries in which I was not very kind to others and people got upset and then I got upset and then people I didn't want to know those things knew things and I gave up and just shut the whole production down before any more damage could be done.)

I kept that first infamous blog for about a year or so, which means I've been blogging for a good five years now (possibly six, because I really think I started blogging in 2003). That makes me feel very, very old. I went back to check the date of my first post on this here URL and I had an INSANELY strong urge to begin deleting posts, but I chose not to. Pretty much all of my old entries make me cringe. (Although I do need to go back and erase some real names I used back in the day.) (Why? Why did I do that? Was I considerably more stupid back in 2005? PROBABLY.) But I left them there because I wrote them. That was me, then. Not a pretty picture, that's for sure. I was bouncing around aimlessly and trying so desperately to connect with people that my attempts at expressing things on the internet are just plain old embarrassing. BUT it is who I was and helped shape who I am today. Not that I am the picture of stability and happiness and growth at the ripe old age of 28, but I've come a very long way from the lonely, pathetic 24-year-old who thought she knew it all even though she was still scrambling to figure things out after the rug has been ripped out from under her a FULL YEAR BEFORE. That girl was dumb. This girl is slightly less dumb. And that feels good to realize.

Oh yeah, and our crib came in today. Alex just drug it into the house. (We both went the first time pick it up and OOPS, it didn't fit in the Vue. So we had to go drive back home to pick up the truck, at which point I said, "When we get home, I'm taking my pants off. Sorry." So now I'm morally supporting him with my feet propped up while he wrangles it up the stairs.) I'm so glad to finally have it in our posession.

And just as an FYI, I originally logged on here to talk about American Idol. But then I remembered it was February and I ALWAYS miss my bloggiversary, so I chose this semi-heartfelt post instead. In case you're curious, my AI post was going to mainly consist of: I hate Danny Gokey and Anoop was robbed, but that Alexis Grace girl has caught my eye. Only there were going to be more words than that.

So yeah, American Idol and musings on my psyche. That sounds about right for a good blog post. Happy Birthday, Sand Palace. Here's to four more neurotic years.