Just having that up as the post title and I risk having my site crash.
Saying you've never heard of The Bloggess is like Paul McCartney believing Heather Mills when she turned to him and said, "The Beatles? I never heard of them."
Yeah. Suspect. Like that.
The series I've been doing this month highlighting the Great Depression Slayers of 2010 is now down to the second last living hero in my life: Jenny Lawson, The Bloggess. It took only two weeks back in 2008, when I first found out about blogs and bloggers to land at Jenny's site. Picture a woman, a quiet introspective over analytical woman who has been feeling like she fell off the face of the earth since she began staying home with her children in 1995. Feeling different and unlike the other SAHMs she's met. Hiding the truth about her depression, anxiety, and just pick a card already...they'd all apply.
Then she clicks over to a site and the post she finds there reads as if her brain has just been pulled out and transcribed. That woman would be me, mouth all agape, and spending close to 3 hours clicking on post after post at a blog called The Bloggess. Finding more and more words that make me feel like I found my tribe. The commenters there, hundreds of them, all saying the same thing: we have found our Mother Ship, and her name is Jenny.
I followed Jenny Lawson over from a passing mention on another site, it read "...like something you'd see at The Bloggess'." Lackadaisical like that, as if we should all just know The Bloggess. After clicking over, I couldn't leave.
Because this is the thing about The Bloggess. She has this we're all in this together feeling in her writing. And it's sincere. You can't convince me otherwise. You feel her love for you, her compassion and you know if you needed her, for whatever reason, she'd do anything to get you the right words you needed to hear to make it through just one more day.
That's one thing about The Bloggess. The other is that she makes you just want to hop on a plane to Texas and be her bestie.
To hell with your Fear of Flying.
Jenny, for the four years you've given me, and the many more years you've given everyone else who has fallen so easily in love with you, Thank You for loving on us. For taking us into your fold and whispering, shhhhh...it's ok, you'll make it -- I'm making it, look at me. Giant metal chickens named Beyonce knocking on my mofo front door and all.
I'm making it, Jenny, and you've helped me, by giving me a place where I feel I belong.
I love you, Jenny Lawson.
|Photo of The Bloggess by Karen Walrond|