|Courtesy Mad Penguin Creative|
How, you ask, can I be afraid of such a genteel, well spoken, witty, talented, fairy tale of a woman. Uh...because she IS all that and because she has a blog that you'd probably really rather be reading! Let's face it. She has pictures to die for and a Marlboro man and kids riding horses and photo contests and publicists and books and recipes and cool clothes, and a speaking itinerary, and cool friends following her. Do I need to go on? In fact, you probably aren't even here any more because you got to the part about sweating and bounced on over to her site because she probably never makes you think about sweat!
Then, there's me. I have 4 posts counting this one and a few hits. When I say “few”, let me draw you a picture. Few means: not even 1/1,000,000,000 of the number of hits that you-know-how has had. But, whose counting besides me? Maybe the 3 brave souls who have signed on as my official followers, God bless 'em. The way I see it, it is me against Ree Drummond. And today, she is winning!
My learning curve is HUGE. She set the class curve before I had a clue about the power of the blog. Don't you remember HATING the kid that messed up the grading curve? G-R-O-A-N. (Insert image of me slapping my head on my forehead in a sudden epiphany regarding where I am on the bloggers hall of fame curve.) Now, don't get me wrong...I love her. I admire her. I want to BE here when I grow up. But, today, she made me afraid. I'm appalled at myself for rejecting my fraidy cat core and deciding to do what does NOT come naturally—ignore the fraidy cat within.
Well, you know how fears are, don't you? Once one jams its foot in the door, it holds the door ajar so that all its buddies can come piling in like sand pouring thru an hour glass. So, I woke up afraid of Ree Drummond and before I knew it, I was laying at the bottom of an hour glass filled with little sandy critters of fear. I decided to have some coffee because you know what they say, “Wake up and smell the coffee.....” Apparently, one cup of coffee was not enough because the wider awake I got, the heavier became the weight of all those sandy critters. It was Tuesday – meaning the glow of my stint at the rehab/writer's conference was beginning to wane.. And it was raining. And I was up late last night dealing with a teenager in the throes of being a teenager.. And, I woke up afraid. G-R-O-A-N.
I can see you. (But the story of my special powers is a story for another day, doncha know?) I know YOUR dirty little secret. The one behind the mask you wear. You are afraid too. Because as weird as I am, I'm not that weird. I know because my counselor told me so! And, I trust her to tell me the truth!
So, come on troops. It's time to face the day. Or night. Or tomorrow based on whatever time you read this blog...after you bounce back over from Ree Drummond's. Let's do this thing together. We can call ourselves Fraidy Cats Anonymous and dig out from the sandy bottom together. Here's a shovel for you:
|Courtesy Mad Penguin Creative|
And to show you I mean business, I'm going on out into the day and face my fears. I'm going to interview a couple of folks with uncommon courage. Come back and see what they have to say! Will ya?