I Hate Goodbyes.

I started this blog something like six years ago for two reasons: To feel like I was being heard and to impress a girl. Those are two big reasons people do anything.

Early on-- 7 blog posts in-- I realized that only two of my close friends were reading and I was clearly impressing no one. I continued writing because I was facing a lot of uncertainty/awkwardness/randomness/absurdity at the time and everything I was encountering highlighted for me that the ridiculous should be documented.

I owe a lot to uncertainty/awkwardness/randomness/absurdity. Whenever I sense them I know something worth noticing is present. If I had a muse she'd probably sweat a lot and struggle to order refreshing beverages because she could not for the life of her say "Arnold Palmer" aloud.

Blogs are pretty awesome. They're like the diary you always hoped someone would find-- not sharing everything, just enough so that you look interesting.

This blog helped me figure out the link between what I like to write about, and what people might find amusing. My goal was always to point out the ridiculous in hopes of smiling at it, and it felt amazing when it worked. I received calls from my mom when she laughed. I heard from my Grandma when she liked a post. My sisters shared with friends and buddies of mine asked with enthusiasm when we laughed about something, "Will this go on the blog?!" (Note: People will read your blog if you write about them.)

Perhaps the greatest example of the power of the blog came when I moved to NYC. I was at a birthday party for Brina's friend when a girl charged at me with an incredible smile and a hug I will never forget and said enthusiastically, "I read your blog!"

It was a big deal for me. HUGE. It blew my mind that someone I didn't know read this. (I was still very unclear at this point as to how the internet worked.)

For months after, I wrote for two big reasons: To be heard and to impress this girl. I wanted nothing more than to make her laugh. I wrote for her. If I received a message that she had liked something, the day was marked a success. She inspired me and we barely knew each other. Blogs, man.

Years later, by chance, fate, whatever you want to call it, we ended up living in the same city again and fell in love. Cliff Notes synopsis of that chapter of my life: Amazing.

Sadly and shockingly, that chapter recently ended. This has been a difficult year for me and I suppose it proved to be too difficult for the relationship. I try to hold onto the idea that things happen as part of a larger story, but that's hard to do when you're eating huge blocks of brie and watching a Long Island Medium marathon on TLC while sobbing. Sometimes when you catch a breath and feel that cheese pain resting in your belly, and that hurt pain resting in your chest, you wonder how the Long Island Medium fits into your larger story.
She would probably know.

So it's bittersweet and maybe even appropriate that this blogs ends now. I'm feeling a lot of uncertainty/awkwardness/randomness/absurdity right now and I know that means something new is on the horizon. I'm working on a second book and I'll keep you posted through my author page about future plans for a new blog. Follow here.

Here are some lessons learned over the years of this blog:
-Life is too funny to be ignored.
-When given the option to laugh or think, I'd prefer both.
-You should love somebody.
-I've never heard better advice than what my mother used to yell out to us as we boarded the school bus in the morning. "Be kind!"
-If you want to write a book, do it. People will read it. Promise.
-Happiness is people-watching, a cup of coffee, and remembering something nice.

I want to thank you for reading this, high-five you for commenting, and wish you all the best. When you see something ridiculous, smile. Life just winked at you.

-Jess